Page 43 of I See You

Her fear was for him. Because Hassan was seconds away from making Xavier his next victim.

Xavier clenched his jaw before snatching his keys off the couch. He took one last look at Sevyn, then back at Hassan, who hadn’t moved a muscle—except to take a single step forward.

Slow. Deliberate. A movement laced with danger.

Sevynmovedoninstinct,steppinginfrontofHassan,usingher bodyas a physical barrier, her back pressing against his chest. She barely registered the slight brush of her ass against him—until she felt him.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She was too close. Close enough to feel the slow shift of his body, the hardness growing against the fabric of his jeans, pressing right into the curve of her ass.

Her muscles tensed, her body locked in place as heat flushed through her. The material of her dress, snug against her curves but still professional, suddenly felt too thin.

She swallowed, her hands clenching at her sides, fighting to ignore the way he felt against her, fighting to focus as Xavier finally walked out, not saying another word.

Only when the door clicked shut did she feel the tension in the air shift.

Hassan hadn’t moved.

Sevyn turned around slowly, her expression sharp, her patience gone. The look on her face made it clear exactly how annoyed she was.

But Hassan?

His face was unreadable, his eyes cold, his entire expression stoic. Like he hadn’t just pressed up against her. Like he hadn’t just let his dick get hard right there in the middle of her office. Like none of this shit affected him at all.

"You can't just come in here, barge into my office, and interrupt my session like that. Make an appointment with Micah if you're looking to talk." Sevyn’s voice was sharp as she walked back to her desk, grabbing her clipboard like she was actually going to get back to work.

Hassan still hadn’t said a word. His silence only made her irritation grow.

She looked up again, mugging him hard. "So you interrupted my session just to stand there and look at me?"

Hassan didn’t move, didn’t blink, just watched her, his gaze unreadable, but intense. He was looking at her like he was reading her, like he was admiring her—but not in the way most men did. This wasn’t lust. This wasn’t desire. This was something else entirely.

And that made her feel exposed. Vulnerable. Then, finally, he spoke.

"What do you see?"

His tone wasn’t hard or cold like before—it was soft, laced with something that made her body still.

She had felt his energy when he walked in, knew he had come with questions, with curiosity, with some type of need for answers. But now, she heard it too.

"What are you talking about, Hassan?" she asked, keeping her tone distant even as her stomach tightened.

His jaw flexed.

"Sevyn, stop fucking playing with me, mane."

His voice was deeper, controlled, but there was something else in it—something that made heat shoot straight between her legs.

She clenched her thighs, trying to shake the feeling, but her body had already betrayed her. Her panties were soaked now, and it was all because of his fucking voice.

She hated that. Hated how his presence alone had her reacting in ways she didn’t want to admit.

"Hassan, you're gonna have to tell me more than that." She rolled her eyes, keeping her voice calm, but there was a thickness in the air now, something she couldn’t ignore.

She watched as he rubbed a hand down his beard, his frustration evident. This wasn’t normal for him. She knew it. He didn’t do this. He didn’t come to places like this. Didn’t talk about feelings. Didn’t even acknowledge they existed. He was fighting everything in him right now.

And yet—he was still here.

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