Page 196 of I See You

Braxton’sjawticked.Withoutwarning,hebackhandedher acrossthe face. Her head snapped to the side, but she didn’t cry out. She turned back slow, the sting dancing on her skin, her eyes blazing. “Thatbitchinthemaskhitharderthanyou,”Sevynmuttered, blood pooling in her mouth, but she spit it to the side like venom.

His jaw clenched tighter. “You won’t be talking to me like that for long.”

“You’re right,” she said through gritted teeth. “Because my nigga is coming for me. And you? You gone be six feet under before he even asks questions.”

Braxton laughed, but the cold glint in his eyes said he heard her. “You think that nigga cares enough to come for you? You think he even know where you at? He’s out there spiraling, and you in here… with me.”

He leaned in close, so close she could smell the cologne she used to love but now made her stomach churn.

“You need to forget about him, Sevyn. That little fantasy you built with him? That’s over. You were mine before him, and you gon’ be mine again.”

He reached for her legs, spreading them with a roughness that made her body jerk, but she was too weak to fight him off. Her muscles screamed, but the drugs in her system made them useless.

“Don’t touch me,” she croaked, panic rising in her chest.

Braxton stopped, just long enough to tilt his head and study her face. “I’m not gon’ hurt you, baby. Not like that. I’m not a monster. I just missed you. Missed the way you taste, the way you smell… that sweetpussy you kept from me all these months.”

His hand moved to her cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking down the wet trail her tears left behind. She flinched hard, turning her head away.

“That scent… it’s still stuck in my fuckin’ head,” he whispered, voice thick with obsession. “You don’t even realize what you do to a man. I been chasing the memory of you like a fiend since the day you walked away.”

He leaned in toward her pussy, breathing her in like it was the only air left in the room, his face close enough to feel the heat of his breath through the fabric.

Sevyn’s body went rigid, her mind racing, heart threatening to crack her ribs.

“You still smell like mine,” he whispered against her skin, voice twisted and tender in a way that made her want to scream. “And I won’t stop until you remember who you belong to.”

She kept fighting, kicking, screaming—whatever her body could muster—but it was useless. Braxton’s head was buried between her thighs like he was starving, like she was the only thing keeping him alive.Her stomach turned with every second his nose stayed there. The taste of bile clawed its way up her throat, and all she could do was cry. Cry and pray.

Her mind ran straight to Hassan. Her light. Her anchor. Her only fucking hope.

She prayed like he could hear her, like he was out there tearing the world apart just to get to her. Because here she was—drugged, chained, humiliated—while the man she once trusted violated every inch of her dignity.

“Braxton... please stop,” she cried, voice barely above a whisper.

He finally lifted his head, eyes glassy like he was high off her, a sick smile stretched across his face like he just won the lottery. Sevyn turned her head toward the ceiling, the tears rolling faster, her chest heaving.

“Hassan,” she whispered like a prayer, like a desperate call for salvation. “Please... find me.”

The moment his name left her lips, everything shifted.

Braxton’s smile vanished. His jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might snap. Without a word, he reached into his back pocket, pulled out a knife, and before she could even scream, he dragged the blade across her stomach.

Sevyn’s scream ripped through the room like a siren. The pain was white hot. Her skin tore open as her blood soaked the sheets beneath her.

“Don’t you ever say that nigga’s name like he your savior in my fucking face!” Braxton snarled, his voice unrecognizable—drenched in venom and jealousy and something unholy.

Her cries turned guttural, raw, and uncontrollable. Blood spilled fromherbody,butitwasn’tjustthepainthatbrokeher—itwas the realization. Braxton wasn’t just obsessed. He was fucking gone. Unhinged. Possessed by some twisted idea of love.

Compared to the monster in front of her, Hassan was a fucking saint.

Braxton stood like nothing happened, wiping the blade on his pants, then picked up the sandwich from the tray like they were having a fucking picnic. “Now, you need to eat,” he said coldly.

Sevyn was too tired, too broken, too fucking hurt to resist. Her body trembled, blood seeping from the gash on her abdomen, but she chewed slowly, swallowing bits of the sandwich just to keep him calm. He handed her a cup of water and she sipped enough to wet her throat, her eyes never leaving his.

When she finished, he didn’t speak. He just picked up the syringe, tapped it like it was some casual routine, then stabbed it into her thigh.

Sevyn gasped, her limbs twitching as the drug hit her bloodstream. Her vision blurred, her breathing slowed, and the room tilted sideways. Her voice cracked, one last whisper slipping past her lips.

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