Chapter 4
S evyn lay in bed, her face buried in the pillows, surrounded by crumpled, snot-filled tissues. The morning sun spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her luxury penthouse, but she barely acknowledged it.
She had barely acknowledged anything for the past month.
After catching Braxton cheating—with her best friend, in their bed, in their home—she hadn’t been able to stomach staying there. The betrayal ran too deep, the walls felt tainted, and the air was suffocating with memories that now felt like lies.
So she left. Packed her shit, moved into a penthouse just outside the city.
But even with the fresh start, she was still here—curled up, brokenhearted, drowning in emotions she couldn’t outrun.
She had loved Braxton. Believed in him. Saw a future with him. And Ariel? She had trusted her with everything.
The pain doubled because the betrayal had come from both sides.
Harper and Dorian had been doing their best to drag her out of this funk, but Sevyn couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on her chest. She was the one people came to for healing.
Now, she was the one needing to be healed.
Braxton had been calling non-stop, leaving voicemails, sending texts, begging to talk.
She ignored every single one. There was nothing left to say.
She sighed, turning over, attempting to shut out the sun and drift back into the empty solace of sleep—
But the sound of her phone ruined that plan.
She groaned, blindly reaching for it, barely glancing at the screen before answering.
"Hello?" she muttered, her voice thick with sleep.
"Don’t ‘hello’ me, bitch." Harper’s sharp tone cut through the receiver, making Sevyn close her eyes. "Get your ass out of bed and come get a workout in."
Before Sevyn could respond, she heard Dorian’s voice in the background .
"Tell that hoe to stop moping over that sorry-ass nigga!"
Sevyn rolled her eyes. "I’m not in the mood for a workout." She buried her face deeper into the pillows, ready to hang up.
Then— BAM.
Her bedroom door burst open. Sevyn damn near jumped out of her skin, her heart pounding as she shot up in bed.
"Get your ass up." Dorian stood in the doorway, arms crossed, Harper right behind her.
Sevyn’s eyes widened. "How the hell did y’all get past security?!" Dorian smirked. "You forgot I’m on your emergency contact list?" Sevyn groaned, annoyed at her past self for making that decision. "Get up, girl!" Harper strode forward, gripping the covers and yanking them back.
Sevyn screamed, clutching the sheets against her chest. "STOP! I’m naked!"
Harper rolled her eyes but let go. "Well, get your ass up and put some clothes on. You’re working this little funk out. We’ll be downstairs."
Harper walked out, but Dorian stayed behind, her eyes narrowing as she took in Sevyn’s exhausted, tear-stained face.
Her voice was calm, but there was an edge of steel beneath it. "Braxton’s hoe-ass—nor Ariel’s trifling-ass—is worth this much energy."
Sevyn swallowed hard, staring at her cousin.
"I know you hurt right now. But fuck both of them." Dorian’s voice softened slightly. "Start putting you first again."
She didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t need one. She simply turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Sevyn sitting in the bed, clutching her sheets, feeling the weight of her words settle deep in her chest.
Sevyn let out a long, exhausted breath, sinking back into her pillows. She knew she didn’t have a choice.
Harper and Dorian weren’t playing with her.
Dragging her out of bed was one thing, but if she didn’t get up on her own, they’d make it their mission to physically throw her ass into workout clothes and haul her out the door.
And she didn’t have the energy to fight them. With a heavy sigh, she forced herself up, her body moving like it carried a thousand pounds of heartbreak with every step.
She shuffled into the bathroom, turning on the lights and staring at herself in the mirror. The woman looking back at her didn’t feel like her. Her eyes were dull, rimmed with exhaustion, holding onto a sadness she couldn’t shake. She didn’t know love could hurt this bad.
Didn’t know betrayal could feel like being gutted, left bleeding with no way to stop it .
She had given everything to Braxton. Every part of her—her trust, her love, her vulnerability—and he had taken it for granted. Thrown it away like it was nothing.
And Ariel? She didn’t even have the words for that kind of betrayal.
Harper and Dorian had been relentless in trying to pull her out of this darkness, doing everything in their power to make her forget.
The drinking. The club nights. The constant distractions.
But none of it helped. No amount of music, alcohol, or forced laughter could drown out the ache inside her.
She felt hollow.
Sevyn exhaled sharply, shaking her head before pulling her hair into a high ponytail.
She changed into a burnt-orange workout set—a sports bra that hugged her breasts perfectly and high-waisted leggings that curved around her body just right.
She didn’t feel fine, but she at least looked it. That had to count for something.
Stepping out of her room, she walked down the sleek white marble stairs, her eyes landing on Harper and Dorian, both lounging on her couch, occupied with their phones.
The moment they looked up and saw her, Dorian’s face lit up. "That’s a fine-ass bitch right there!" she hyped, making Harper laugh.
Sevyn cracked a small smile, chuckling along with them—even though inside, she felt different.
Felt empty.
They left her penthouse, getting into their separate cars and heading to Harper’s gym, TrapFitness.
Sevyn drove in silence, gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. Her mind wouldn’t shut up.
Braxton. Ariel. Their betrayal. Her pain. She was seconds away from breaking entirely. And if this workout didn’t help…
She didn’t know what would.
Sevyn, Dorian, and Harper were deep into their workout, the burn settling into their muscles as they pushed through a set of weighted squats.
The only sounds in the gym were the steady rhythm of their breathing and the clinking of weights—until Harper’s voice cut through their focus.
"Sevyn, are you still taking new clients?" Her tone was hesitant.
Sevyn finished her set, grabbing her water bottle and taking a long sip before glancing at Harper with curiosity.
"Yeah, always. You got someone in need of my services? "
If there was one thing keeping her sane through the mess of her broken heart, it was work. Helping people. Fixing their minds when she couldn’t even fix her own.
Harper shifted slightly, clearing her throat. "Uh… yeah. My cousin." Sevyn raised a brow, instantly catching the unease in Harper’s voice. Then—
"The nigga that basically killed that man at the club with his bare hands."
Sevyn’s eyes went wide. She knew exactly who Harper was talking about.
Vividly.
The man was fine—but terrifying all at the same time. Yet, it wasn’t just what he did that night that stuck with her. It was how he looked at her. Like he saw right through her. Those blue eyes—cold, unreadable, dark—should have sent chills down her spine.
But they didn’t.
Because what intrigued her most was that beneath the ice, she saw something else. Something deeper. Before she could respond, Dorian beat her to it.
"Girl, your cousin is fine," Dorian said, wiping sweat from her forehead. "But I like the one with the braids. Something about him— both of them, actually—just screams they be rearranging bitches’ organs with their dick."
She winked, and Sevyn burst into laughter as Harper groaned. "Dorian, shut up!" Harper rolled her eyes, but she was grinning too. "Roman and Hassan are like brothers to me. I don’t even want to picture that."
Sevyn chuckled, shaking her head before steering the conversation back.
"So… he’s actually looking into therapy?"
Harper’s smile faded, her tone softening. "Well… not exactly." Sevyn’s brow lifted again.
Harper exhaled. "I told you about my grandmother—the one who raised me. She’s sick… dying."
Sevyn’s heart clenched. She remembered that conversation. She remembered how much fear Harper had in her voice when she talked about losing the only real mother she ever had.
"Before she leaves, she asked all of us to do something for her. And for Hassan… she wants him to go to therapy."
Harper’s voice wavered slightly, but she pushed through. "He’s been through traumatic shit his whole life. He’s hurting, Sev, but he refuses to get help."
Sevyn sighed, leaning against the squat rack.
"I’m a miracle worker, Harper, but I can’t force someone to take my help."
Her tone was firm, practical.
"Especially someone like your cousin. We all saw what he did to that man at the club with his bare hands."
She paused, folding her arms. "I’m not trying to be his next victim."
Harper chuckled slightly, shaking her head. "He’s not going to hurt you."
"Yeah? Tell that to his body count."
Sevyn wasn’t scared of him. But she was smart.
And men like Hassan Gaines didn’t let anyone close—especially someone who wanted to peel back the layers and see what was buried underneath all that cold-blooded ruthlessness.
"I saw the way he looked at you at the club the other night," Harper said, her voice steady but knowing. "His eyes never soften for anyone except me and Madea. If you just let him know how much therapy could help him, I know he’d at least consider it."
Sevyn froze.
"Wait… you want me to convince him?"
Her voice pitched in disbelief as she pointed at herself, like there had to be some mistake.
Harper nodded.
Sevyn scoffed, shaking her head. "And he didn’t look at me anyway. If anything, he was looking past me."
She said it like she was sure, but the nerves creeping into her body told another story.
Hassan had a presence—the kind that made it very clear he didn’t tolerate bullshit. Approaching him with an idea he was completely against was like asking to die.