Page 23 of I See You

"Yeah, it was."

Harper huffed, rolling her eyes, knowing arguing was pointless. "Now come on," Hassan said, already turning toward the exit. "I’m walking you and your girls out."

Because whether she liked it or not—

She was his blood. And no one was touching his family.

The group exited the club in silence, the cool night air settling around them as Hassan led them to Harper’s car.

"Thank you, Harp, for tonight… but it didn’t fix shit."

The woman with the resting mug—spoke for the first time, her voice low, edged with exhaustion.

"Sorry, Sev. Really thought good-ass vibes would do the trick." Harper sighed, pulling her into a hug. "You and Dorian get home safe, okay?"

Sevyn hugged her back before stepping away, glancing once more at Hassan before turning back to Harper.

"You good?" she asked, her tone protective. Hassan smirked, letting out a low chuckle.

Hewasn’toffended—notatall.Ifanything,herespectedhow protective she was over Harper.

"Yeah, I’m good, sis." Harper reassured. "Let me know when y’all make it home."

Sevyngaveaslownodbeforewalkingtowardhercar,Dorian trailing beside her.

Hassan’s gaze followed as she slid into the black Maserati.

Hisnodofapprovalwassubtle—justasmalltiltofhischinin respect.

The woman hadn’t said two words to him, yet somehow, she still had his attention.

Harper sighed, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You gonna kill him?" she asked flatly, though they both alreadyknew the answer.

Hassansmirked,thatdevilish,ice-coldgrinspreadingacrosshis face.

"He’s already dead."

Harper rolled her eyes. "You and Roman need a new hobby. He just wanted my number, San. You didn’t have to kill him."

Hassan leaned against the car, unbothered. "That nigga should’ve never put his hands on you. He chose his fate—that’s on him. No nigga puts his hands on you and walks away. Ever."

His voice was sharp, final.

Harper exhaled, shaking her head. "You need help."

The words weren’t meant to be harsh, but they were true. Hassan’s jaw flexed. "I’m good."

Shedidn’tmissthesharpnessofthewayheslammedthecar door shut, how it held just enough force to let her know she’d hit a nerve. Harper rolled down the window, about to apologize, but Hassan stopped her with a look.

"I know I’m fucked up, Harp." His voice was quieter now, but the edge in his tone made it clear he wasn’t playing. "I’m dealing with my shit. But you and Madea need to chill with that ‘therapy and getting help’ shit."

Harper sighed, nodding slightly. "I apologize for overstepping… we just worry about you, San."

"I’m good, Harp. Stop worrying." They both knew that was a lie.

But Harper also knew there was nothing she could say that would get through to him. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

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