Chapter 10 #3
Sevyn watched the shift in Xavier’s body language—the way his shoulders loosened slightly, the way his smirk carried the weight of an unspoken truth. The session had taken an unexpected turn, and now she was even more intrigued.
"You ever met somebody that don’t take you serious?" Xavier asked suddenly, shaking his head with a dry chuckle.
For the first time during their session, Sevyn smiled. "Tell me about her."
Xavier scoffed, rubbing his hand down his face like he wasn’t sure if he was amused or frustrated.
"Her name’s Harper. She’s my new trainer.
Cold as hell at what she does, knows her shit, but she don’t mess around.
I mean, I try to flirt, crack jokes—she don’t even blink.
Just hits me with some ‘Focus, Sanders’ like I ain’t even say nothing.
" Sevyn’s eyes widened slightly. Harper? Now that was interesting.
She knew Harper had recently taken on a new NFL client, but she hadn’t put two and two together until now.
This was gold. She couldn’t tell Harper what Xavier said—client confidentiality and all—but that didn’t mean she couldn’t read Harper’s energy next time they talked.
"And that bothers you?" Sevyn asked, keeping her tone neutral, but her curiosity was piqued.
Xavier scoffed again, shaking his head. "Nah, just… not used to it. Women usually—" He stopped himself, shrugging like the rest of the sentence didn’t need to be said.
Sevyn arched a brow, already knowing exactly how that sentence was supposed to end. "Usually throw themselves at you?"
The smirk on his face was all the confirmation she needed. "Something like that."
Sevyn chuckled, tilting her head as she studied him. "And Harper doesn’t. That’s why she’s in your head."
Xavier’s smirk faded slightly, his jaw flexing like he didn’t like being read so easily. But she could see the truth in his expression. He wasn’t used to being the one chasing.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Sevyn leaned back in her chair, studying Xavier’s body language like she was piecing together a puzzle. She had him now—right at the edge of something real. “And let me guess—you don’t like not having control. ”
His eyes snapped to hers, something tightening in his jaw before he exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. “She different. Not impressed by the fame, the money, none of it. Just trains me like I’m any other dude.”
Sevyn nodded, already knowing that was Harper to the core. No bullshit. No ego-stroking. Just results. “Maybe that’s why you like her.”
Xavier didn’t respond right away, just shifted in his seat, his smirk fading into something more unreadable.
“You ever thought about why this gets under your skin?” Sevyn asked gently. “Why being ignored or dismissed makes you feel like you have to prove something?”
Xavier tapped his fingers against his knee, thinking. His breath came out slow, measured. “…Yeah. But I don’t like thinking about that shit.”
Sevyn nodded, her tone even, no pressure. “That’s fair. But if you want control over your emotions instead of letting them run you, we gotta start there.”
Xavier leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor for a moment before finally meeting her gaze again. His expression was serious, his walls still up—but a crack had formed. “So what now?”
Sevyn tilted her head slightly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Now, we break it down. Figure out where this need to prove yourself comes from. Find ways to work through the anger before it explodes. And maybe… talk a little more about Harper.”
Xavier let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
Sevyn smirked, closing her notebook as the session wrapped up. “I’m patient.”
For the first time, Xavier actually seemed open. His body was still tense, still guarded, but something had shifted. It wasn’t much—but it was a step. And for Sevyn, that was all she needed. She’d be waiting for the next one.
???
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Sevyn gathered her things, exhaling slowly as she prepared to leave for the night.
The office had emptied out, only a few lingering goodbyes exchanged before she stepped out into the cool evening air.
Her heels clicked against the pavement as she made her way to her car, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders.
She slid into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel before glancing over to the passenger side.
His jacket was still there, draped casual ly as if it belonged.
The sight of it made something inside her tighten.
She could’ve sent it back through Harper, could’ve left it somewhere for him to grab—but that wasn’t what she wanted.
She needed to see him.
The thought alone sent a rush of nerves through her. He might not even want to see her. Hell, after the way she snapped at him, he probably didn’t. But if she didn’t try, she’d never know.
The further she drove toward his casino, the more second thoughts crept in. Sevyn, what are you doing? The little voice in her head screamed at her to turn around. He doesn’t want to see or talk to you. Girl, you about to get yourself killed .
Still, she didn’t stop.
Because beneath all the doubt, something deeper pushed her forward.
The need to apologize, to explain—to just be near him again.
When she finally pulled up, Hustle & Flow was alive with energy, packed even on a Wednesday night.
The lights glowed against the dark sky, illuminating the steady flow of high-rollers, businessmen, and familiar faces from the underworld.
She took a breath, grabbed her purse and his jacket, and stepped out.
Her posture was poised, her stride controlled, even as her pulse thrummed beneath the surface.
She walked inside, the heavy scent of cigars, money, and whiskey thick in the air.
Security posted at the front clocked her immediately, their sharp gazes assessing her every move.
“Umm… is Hassan here?” she asked, voice smooth despite the nerves creeping in.
The man closest to her—one of Hassan’s head security—tilted his chin, looking her up and down. His expression didn’t change, his stance unreadable. “He’s in a meeting,” he said flatly.
Sevyn’s fingers curled around the fabric of Hassan’s jacket, but her expression remained composed. “I just came to drop something off. He knows I’m here.” It was a lie, but she delivered it with effortless confidence.
The man’s gaze lingered, his eyes flicking from her face down to her body in silent admiration before he spoke again. “What’s your name?”
She swallowed, but didn’t let it show. “Sevyn. Sevyn Love.”
A slow nod. Then, after a beat, he stepped aside, clearing a path toward the stairs.
“He’s in his office.”
Sevyn exhaled, steadying herself before making her way up. She didn’t know what she would walk into, but she knew one thing for sure.
She wasn’t leaving without facing him .
Sevyn released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as she ascended the stairs to Hassan’s office. Reaching the door, she took a deep inhale, steadying herself before walking in—forgetting to knock.
What she saw made her pause, though her face remained unreadable.
Hassan, head slightly tilted back, his expression impassive, while the obscene sounds of sloppy head filled the room. His cold blue eyes lifted, locking onto hers, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t look the least bit apologetic.
And Sevyn? She didn’t react either.
Without a word, she stepped fully inside and calmly shut the door behind her, watching the flicker of surprise in his gaze. The woman on her knees turned, finally noticing the intruder, her eyes meeting Sevyn’s in shock. Sevyn simply smiled and gave her a small, taunting wave.
The woman scrambled up so fast, she nearly stumbled. “What the fuck?!” she shrieked, eyes darting between Hassan and Sevyn.
Hassan, still silent, adjusted his pants with unbothered ease, his gaze never leaving Sevyn’s. She met his stare, her expression cool, composed.
“Who the fuck is this, Hassan?” the woman demanded, voice shrill with misplaced entitlement.
Hassan finally looked at her, his gaze turning sharp, lethal. “None of your fucking business. Now go, Nova.” His voice was cold, controlled, final.
Nova hesitated, her eyes flickering back to Sevyn, who stood patiently, still unfazed. There was no jealousy in her stance, no anger—just quiet amusement as she waited for Nova to leave so she could speak with Hassan privately.
But Nova, desperate for some form of validation, refused to go quietly. “So you kicking me out for this bitch? She your woman or something?” she spat, her tone dripping with jealousy.
Sevyn chuckled, the sound low and amused, but Hassan’s gaze darkened. If looks could kill, Nova would’ve been dead already.
“Nova,” he said, his voice like ice, “get the fuck out. You know I don’t repeat myself.”
That was all it took. Nova huffed, yanking on her clothes with sharp, angry movements before stomping toward the door. But just as she passed Sevyn, she stopped, attempting to size her up. “You can’t suck his dick like me,” she sneered. “He’ll always know where home is.”
Sevyn let out a slow, almost pitying chuckle, shaking her head. “I’ve seen enough,” she said smoothly, tilting her head slightly. “Word of advice—use two hands. ”
The smirk on Sevyn’s lips and the casual dismissal in her tone hit a nerve. Nova’s face twisted in rage before she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
And just like that, the air in the room shifted.
Sevyn turned back to Hassan, still holding his unreadable gaze. Neither of them spoke. The energy between them was charged, heavy, laced with something unspoken but undeniable. And despite everything—despite knowing she shouldn’t—Sevyn smirked.
“So… that was interesting.”