Chapter 8
(TWO Days later)
S evyn found herself walking toward Braxton’s office, each step heavy, her stomach churning the closer she got.
She hadn’t seen him since Roman’s birthday party at Hassan’s casino, and the way his jaw had tightened, the way his eyes burned into her when he saw her with Hassan—it was seared into her mind.
She couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at her lips.
She wanted him to be jealous. She wanted him to feel even a fraction of the hurt he had given her when he fucked her so-called best friend.
No matter how much she tried to bury it, how much she wanted to move past the betrayal, there was still a piece of her that needed answers.
But that wasn’t the only reason she was here.
Braxton had come to Hassan for a reason, and she needed to know why.
The type of business Hassan was involved in, the kind of man Braxton was— they didn’t mix.
They were opposites. Worlds apart. And that worried her.
She knew she should mind her business. But when it came to Hassan? It was damn near impossible. Because as much as she wanted to save him emotionally, she also wanted to protect him physically. And the psychotic part about it was—she didn’t even know him.
Sevyn reached Braxton’s secretary’s desk as he looked up and smiled at her arrival. "Ms. Love, it’s a pleasure seeing you here." Gavin spoke politely, his voice smooth and professional.
"Hey Gavin, is Braxton here?" Sevyn asked, keeping her tone casual since she hadn’t informed Braxton she was coming.
"He’s in a meeting right now, but it should be over in a few. You can wait in his office, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind his beautiful woman surprising him." Gavin smirked, the teasing edge in his voice making Sevyn chuckle lightly even though nothing about this moment felt warm to her on the inside.
"Thank you, Gav," she replied before stepping into Braxton’s glass-walled office.
The second she entered, she could feel his presence everywhere .
His personality bled into every inch of the space, the things he loved on full display.
Signed basketballs from his favorite professional players sat enclosed in glass cases along the large window seal, a framed and signed Kobe Bryant jersey hanging in the corner.
A massive shelf lined with vintage and new music vinyls filled another side of the office, his love for music showcased effortlessly.
Pictures of his family hung on the walls, reminders of a life that once felt perfect.
Sevyn walked around his desk, her fingers trailing along the edges until they stopped at a framed picture. She picked it up, her heart tightening at the image. It was the two of them, caught in a moment of laughter on one of their anniversary dates.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes, but her grip on the frame tightened. Her mind betrayed her, drowning her in memories of a love that had once been free, easy, and real. A love Braxton had killed in one night, shattering not only her heart but her trust.
A single tear slipped before she wiped it just as quickly, forcing herself to put the picture back.
"Sevyn?" His voice was soft, careful, hesitant.
She looked up, her breath catching for just a second as their eyes locked.
Braxton stood in the doorway, his gaze flickering with something she couldn’t quite place as he slowly stepped toward her.
The closer Braxton got, the further Sevyn moved, finally settling into one of the seats across from his desk while he sank into his chair. "You look good." His voice was smooth, admiring, his gaze sweeping over her like he had the right.
Sevyn didn’t acknowledge it. She knew she looked good.
The maroon dress hugged her curves perfectly, professional yet striking, paired with a matching trench coat for the crisp weather.
Her Dolce & Gabbana heels clicked against the floor when she crossed her legs, and her Christian Dior purse sat on her lap, a silent symbol of the woman she had become—one who never needed him.
Even though just looking at him made her blood boil, she kept herself calm, poised, untouchable.
The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken things, before Braxton finally spoke again.
"So, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you…" He trailed off, eyes raking over her once more, his voice dipping. "Because I am. More than anything right now. But I’m sur—"
"Why did you cheat, Braxton?" Her voice cut through the air like a blade—calm, distant, but demanding an answer.
The admiration on his face disappeared in an instant. His expression shifted, his lips parting as he sighed, dragging a hand over his jaw. "I’ve been stressed, Sev. I— "
"Did you not trust me enough to come to me when you were stressed?" Her voice cracked, just slightly, before she quickly pulled herself back together.
"No… yes." Braxton stumbled, flustered, his usual confidence slipping.
Sevyn mugged him, her patience wearing thin.
"It’s just… Sevyn, you’ve been working a lot.
We both have, but you’ve been taking more clients, spending more time at the office than usual.
And now, with you trying to build your own clinic, I felt like you were just drifting further and further away from us.
" His voice was laced with frustration, like his cheating was somehow her fault.
Her expression hardened.
"Braxton, you work more than I do. You don’t come home until damn near midnight, sometimes one, two in the morning, because of work." Her voice was sharp, cutting through his excuse.
And then her mind went back to what Ariel had said over lunch, days before she found them.
"That’s because of this case—"
Sevyn laughed, but it wasn’t out of humor. It was sharp, bitter, devilish.
And then, before she could stop them, tears fell. Unwilling.
Unwanted.
The sight of them made Braxton’s heart drop. But it was too late. He had messed up beyond the point of no return. Because in that moment, Sevyn put the pieces together.
And nothing he said now could fix it.
First Ariel talks about how busy Sevyn’s schedule is, how she’s not spending enough time with Braxton. Now Braxton is sitting here, telling her the same exact thing, as if his cheating was her fault. These niggas had been plotting on her.
"How long have you been fucking Ariel?" The tears wouldn’t stop, burning down her cheeks, but her voice was sharp, slicing through the space between them. Braxton opened his mouth, but she saw it in his eyes—the hesitation, the lie forming before he even spoke.
"You betta not fucking lie, either." Her tone was low, but there was nothing calm about it, her patience running razor-thin.
Braxton exhaled, running a hand over his face like it would somehow fix what he had done. "Sevyn—"
"How long?" Her voice was steady, but the storm inside her was anything but.
He hesitated. She knew why. If he told the truth, she’d snap. If he lied, she’d snap worse. His grip on his desk tightened, his body locked in place like he was bracing himself. The silence between them stretched, suffocating, pushing the air out of her lungs .
"HOW FUCKING LONG?!" Her voice cracked through the office, raw, splintered, her fury seeping into every syllable.
"A month."
Her world stopped.
Everything around her, the room, the air, even the weight of her own body, collapsed in on itself. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but the burn in her chest. Her heart shattered, and every single piece left inside of her sliced through her like glass.
"A month?!" The disbelief choked her. She stood so fast her chair scraped against the floor, the sound ringing through the room. Braxton stood too, hands slightly raised like he really thought he could calm her. "Sev, calm down. We at the office."
Sevyn’s head snapped toward him, her expression darkening into something he had never seen before.
He was standing in front of her, telling her to calm down, after betraying her for a month with someone she called a sister?
She wanted to rip him apart, wanted to drag his ass through every layer of hell he had thrown her into.
"Fuck your fucking office!" Her breathing was ragged, her body trembling, but no matter how many times she tried to steady herself, her rage kept climbing, swallowing her whole.
She squeezed her eyes shut, forced herself to take the same calming breaths she had spent years teaching her clients, but nothing worked.
She needed to release, needed to feel something other than this heartbreak crawling through her veins.
Then she saw it.
The bat. It stood in the corner of his office, leaned against the wall like it was waiting for her.
Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked toward it, slow, purposeful. The tension in the room shifted, thickened, suffocating them both. Braxton followed her movements, his body shifting, his voice desperate, scrambling for anything to hold onto.
"I know I fucked up, Sevyn. I was overwhelmed with this case, and I couldn’t come to you because of lawyer-client shit. But I needed an escape, and you were working a lot. Ariel was there."
Her fingers wrapped around the bat, its weight familiar, solid, powerful in her hands.
His voice blurred in the background, excuses spilling from his mouth like he could somehow explain away the knife he stabbed into her back.
Ariel was there? What the fuck did that even mean?
She was there because they both wanted her to be.
They both plotted, both waited for the moment Sevyn was too distracted with work to see what was happening behind her back.
She turned the bat in her hands, gripping it tighter.