Chapter 7 #2
Dorian smirked, her eyes dancing with that signature fire as she stepped in just enough to make him feel her presence. Her voice came out low, sultry, laced with playful confidence. “Let’s get something clear, Roman—I don’t match men. I make them wish they could match me.”
Roman’s grin stretched slow and wide, amusement and desire flickering in his eyes. She didn’t just challenge him—she thrilled him.
“Yeah... I definitely met my match.”
Then, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to feel personal. "I’m about to take these niggas’ money. I’d love to have an extra lucky charm beside me."
Dorian’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she recovered quickly.
She let a smirk curl at her lips, her confidence never slipping. "Well, be prepared to make these rich niggas—and bitches—mad as hell."
Roman let out a deep chuckle, his smile bright, as he took her hand and guided her away toward the high-stakes tables.
Before disappearing into the crowd, Dorian glanced back at Sevyn and Harper—her eyes gleaming, her smirk teasing.
Both women grinned, knowing exactly what was about to go down.
Now it was just Harper and Sevyn, standing together as they moved further into the casino’s heart.
The music was smooth, the energy electric, but all Sevyn could think about was the fact that he was here.
"I see Hassan. "
Harper’s voice was casual, but Sevyn’s stomach flipped as she followed her gaze, spotting him instantly.
Standing over the railing above, watching everything, controlling everything, Hassan wasn’t just present—he commanded the entire space without moving a muscle.
Even dressed elegantly, wrapped in that tailored black Dior suit, his cold, lethal presence still clung to him, like an aura that warned people to step lightly.
Harper started to move toward him, but Sevyn grabbed her arm, stopping her. Her voice was slightly nervous now, something Harper never heard from her.
"You think he’s gonna want to see us?" Sevyn swallowed, her voice lower. "Well, me—I know he won’t hurt his own cousin."
Harper laughed, completely unbothered. "Girl, relax. Hassan is probably over that." She waved it off like it was nothing.
Sevyn wasn’t convinced.
"What if he’s not?" Her voice was soft, but her words held real hesitation.
Harper turned to her with a pointed look. "If Hassan wanted to kill you, Sev? You’d already be dead."
Sevyn’s stomach dropped. Because Harper wasn’t exaggerating. "Now come on, so I can officially introduce you to him."
Before Sevyn could protest again, Harper grabbed her hand, leading her up the stairs with effortless confidence.
Sevyn’s heart pounded in her chest with each step. Closer.
Closer.
She could see him more clearly now—the cut of his suit, the gleam of his watch, the unreadable look in his eyes as he remained fixed on the crowd below.
She had to keep her walls up. She couldn’t let him get to her like he did last time. Couldn’t let him ruin her. So she forced herself into that distant, calculated demeanor, masking the butterflies that tried to erupt inside her.
"San!" Harper’s voice rang out as they reached the top of the stairs. Hassan took a second longer before finally turning to face them.
And fuck. The second his blue eyes landed on her, her entire body reacted. Her heart jumped. Her breath hitched. But she masked it. She had to.
As he pulled Harper into a hug, his gaze never left hers. And Sevyn? She didn’t back down either. Her eyes stayed locked onto his, her body still, unreadable. Like they weren’t both fighting the same pull in the middle of a crowded casino.
She saw the coldness in his face, the emotionless mask he always wore. But she felt something else entirely. Something deeper. Something he didn’t want her to see. And she knew he felt it too, because the moment their eyes locked, he looked away too fast.
Sevyn’s lips curled into a small smirk, knowing she had just as much of an effect on him as he did on her.
"You remember my friend Sevyn, right?" Harper asked casually, and Sevyn’s eyes never left him as he finally turned back toward her
And the second he did, her confidence wavered.
The way he was looking at her—dark, unreadable, intense—made her grip her clutch a little tighter, trying to play it off.
"Yeah." His voice was calm, smooth, effortlessly controlled.
But she knew better. She chuckled to herself, low and barely noticeable, but knowing damn well he was feeling something on the inside.
Harper formally introduced them, but it felt pointless. They had already crossed a line—long before tonight. And when their hands touched, she felt it.
The slight shift in his body. The way he relaxed at her touch, even if it was barely noticeable. The way her own body heated up, the warmth spreading like fire through her veins. They pulled away quickly, both of them too aware of what just happened, neither of them willing to acknowledge it.
Hassan turned back to Harper, refocusing his attention, like nothing had happened.
But Sevyn saw the way Harper’s eyes narrowed slightly, like she had caught something in the exchange but was choosing not to comment on it.
Sevyn, on the other hand, kept herself poised, her demeanor calm, collected, unbothered.
She listened as Hassan and Harper continued talking, their banter easy, joking like siblings instead of cousins. She laughed, entertained by their energy, but she missed the way Hassan’s gaze kept returning to her.
And even when she did notice—
She didn’t look away. Didn’t pretend she wasn’t studying him, admiring the way he looked in that black tailored suit, the sharp cut of his features, the sheer weight of his presence.
His aura was too magnetic.
She had never been able to look away from him.
When they said their goodbyes, she lingered, staying a second longer than necessary, like she was reading him one last time.
And he let her.
Then, without a word, she turned and walked away with Harper, leaving him standing there .
But Hassan? He was still watching her.
They made their way to the bar, ready to indulge in expensive, strong drinks—the kind that tasted like money and burned in the best way. Best part? It was all free.
Harper slid onto a barstool, smirking. "I told you he wasn’t hanging on to that shit no more."
Sevyn rolled her eyes, taking a slow sip of her martini, letting the liquor sit on her tongue before swallowing. "That’s ‘cause he don’t have full proof that we tried to set him up. But once he finds out? I’m dead."
Harper laughed, shaking her head. "Girl, he knows what we did. He just acting like he don’t. He ain’t trippin’ over that shit no more. Just let it go."
Sevyn nodded slowly, even though her body disagreed.
Did Hassan really let it go? She wasn’t so sure.
They went back to drinking, laughing, playing a few games, letting the atmosphere pull them in. They eventually met back up with Dorian, who was posted up next to Roman at the high-stakes table.
And damn.
Sevyn couldn’t deny it—Dorian had to be his lucky charm, because Roman was killing the people at the table, stacking wins like the cards were rigged.
Sevyn watched with amusement, swirling the last of her drink in her glass, until she felt it—
The touch. Fingers at the small of her back. Light. Possessive. Her entire body locked up.
Then—
"Come here."
The deep voice was low, spoken just behind her ear, carrying a weight that only one man could hold. Hassan.
The coldness in his tone sent a slow shiver down her spine. But before she could even register her own reaction, he was already walking away, his presence shaking everything in her like he hadn’t just commandeered her entire body with two words.
She turned slightly, catching sight of him standing by the bar, waiting.
Harper and Dorian were locked in on the game, oblivious to what just happened. Sevyn exhaled slowly, gathering herself, before following.
When she reached the bar, she placed her empty glass on the bar—leaned back against it just like he did, mirroring his stance, her eyes scanning the crowd, pretending like she wasn’t affected.
But the silence between them was thick, stretching too long, making her pulse beat louder than it should .
Hassan lifted a finger, signaling the bartender, who nodded immediately and started pouring his usual.
Then, finally—
"Want anything?" His voice cut through the tension, making her finally look at him.
For a second, she considered it. Considered drowning the heat coursing through her, the nervous energy coiling in her stomach.
But she shook her head. She had already had enough drinks with Harper—drinks that had her just tipsy enough to let her guard slip if she wasn’t careful.
And with Hassan this close? That was dangerous.
"No, I’m good. Thank you." Her voice was soft, controlled, her eyes flickering back to the crowd, trying to focus on anything but him.
But it didn’t matter. Because she felt him beside her. And that was enough.
Hassan turned, leaning his back against the bar again, his posture completely at ease as he took a slow sip of his cognac. The glass hovered near his lips, the rich, amber liquor coating his tongue, smooth like every one of his movements.
Sevyn inhaled, catching the scent of his expensive-ass cologne, the deep musk wrapping around her like a warm blanket. It was rich, intoxicating—a scent that lingered long after he left the room.
She knew he had called her over for a reason. And though it both made her curious and a little nervous, she kept herself calm, poised. She wouldn’t let him see what he did to her.
"So why aren’t you playing any games?" she finally spoke up, deciding to break the silence since he still hadn’t said shit.
"I don’t gamble. Not in this way, at least." His voice was low, his words measured as his eyes stayed ahead, like he was watching her and his back at the same time.
Sevyn let out a light chuckle, her gaze sliding to the sharp cut of his jaw before looking away again.