Chapter 11 #3
She saw him—really saw him. And instead of running the other way like any sane person should, she kept stepping closer. That kind of shit was dangerous.
His phone rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen before answering. Von. His hacker, the man who could find out anything about anyone with a few keystrokes.
“What’s the word?” Hassan answered, his voice sharp as he switched lanes.
“I’m still digging into that Braxton nigga,” Von started. “So far, it’s just what we already know. But you know every nigga got skeletons, no matter how clean his record looks.”
Hassan didn’t respond. If Von didn’t have anything useful yet, he wasn’t interested in the filler.
“Now, about the bitch—”
“Watch that shit, nigga.” Hassan cut in, his jaw clenching.
“My bad, boss. Didn’t mean no disrespect.
” Von quickly corrected himself before continuing.
“She’s clean, through and through. Born and raised here, but her parents?
Filthy rich. Her father, Steven Love, is basically the godfather of real estate.
Used to be involved in some illegal dealings back in the day but straightened out.
Her mother, Trina Love, was a doctor before he retired her.
Now she’s big on charity work, hospitals and shit. ”
Hassan barely reacted. He didn’t care about her parents or their money. His only concern was Sevyn.
“Now, as for Sevyn Love… she’s just like them. Clean-cut. Dominating in her field. Behavioral therapist, top of her class at University of Memphis, got her master’s. Nothing shady, no dirt on her name.” Von paused before adding, “Except for that Braxton nigga being her nigga.”
Hassan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his patience thinning.
“Aight. Keep me updated.” He pulled into his driveway, shutting off the engine .
“You got it, boss.”
Hassan had one more thing to add. “And let me know if you see that nigga around her. The minute you spot them together, you call me.” His voice was sharp, leaving no room for questions.
Von was silent for a moment, and Hassan knew he was wondering why this woman mattered so much. But Von wasn’t stupid enough to ask.
“Say less.”
Hassan hung up, sitting in his car outside of his house. He didn’t know why the idea of Braxton anywhere near Sevyn pissed him off as much as it did, but he wasn’t about to sit around and analyze it.
One thing was certain—Braxton had already hurt her once. That wouldn’t happen again. Not while Hassan was watching.
Hassan exhaled deeply, the weight of too much shit on his plate pressing down on him.
His grandmother’s words, Sevyn’s presence in his mind, Braxton snooping around, and now Hendrix fucking Gaines making his way back into town—it was too much at once.
And if there was one thing Hassan didn’t tolerate, it was loose ends.
He pulled his phone out and dialed Von again.
The line barely rang before Von picked up, always ready for whatever Hassan needed.
“Aye, Von. Look into Hendrix Gaines,” Hassan said, his tone cold and razor-sharp.
“I need to know that nigga’s every move.
The second he steps foot back in Memphis—I want to know.
Nothing that nigga does gets past me. Nothing. ”
Von didn’t hesitate. “Aight. I got you.”
That’s what Hassan liked about him. No questions. No dumbass curiosity. Just straight execution. Von was the best at what he did, and that’s why Hassan kept him close. Roman might’ve been his right hand, but Von? Von was the eyes and ears, the one who made sure Hassan always had the upper hand.
And when it came to Hendrix, Hassan wasn’t leaving shit to chance. That nigga had already caused enough damage in his lifetime. Now, he was back, and Hassan wasn’t about to let him disrupt shit. If Hendrix thought he was just gonna pop back up and move around unnoticed, he had another thing coming.
Hassan leaned back against the headrest, gripping the wheel as his thoughts twisted into a storm he couldn’t shake. He wasn’t the type to be caught slipping—not in business, not in the streets, and sure as hell not with a woman. But Sevyn? She had blindsided him in a way no one ever had.
At first, looking into Braxton was just business.
The nigga was poking around, and Hassan had to stay ahead of the game.
But the deeper he dug, the more he realized that Sevyn was connected to him, which meant she had to be looked into, too.
He couldn’t risk letting his g uard down—not when so much was at stake.
Von had found nothing, and that should’ve put Hassan at ease.
But it didn’t. It just pissed him off more.
No one was ever that clean, not in his world.
People always had dirt, hidden agendas, something they were scheming on.
But Sevyn? She was exactly who she said she was.
No secrets. No skeletons. No ulterior motives.
A force. A dangerous force.
One that cracked through the steel walls he built for everyone else like they were nothing.
That realization sat heavy in his chest, tightening something inside him he didn’t want to acknowledge.
He’d spent his whole life avoiding vulnerability, making sure no one got close enough to reach the parts of him he buried deep. But with Sevyn, it was different.
He hated it.
Part of him wished she was dirty, that Von would’ve found something—anything—that gave him a reason to shut down, push her away, and go back to the cold-hearted nigga he’d always been. But Sevyn wasn’t giving him that out.
She was making it impossible.
Hassan exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he stepped out of his Bentley and headed inside. He was done thinking about this shit. He needed a break, a moment to shut his mind off.
And that was another problem.
Because relaxing? That wasn’t something he did.
???
Sevyn stepped out of her car, Dorian right behind her, nerves tangled in knots as she made her way up her parents' long driveway. She had been avoiding this moment for weeks, not ready to tell them about her breakup with Braxton, dreading their reaction. The disappointment, the questions, the inevitable lectures—she wasn’t ready.
But she couldn’t keep dodging them forever.
Thankfully, Dorian agreed to come with her, a much-needed buffer in case things went south.
Taking a deep breath, she used her key to unlock the door, her heels clicking against the gleaming marble floors as she stepped inside.
The house was exactly as she remembered—warm, familiar, untouched since childhood, except for the subtle updates her mother insisted on every few years.
Despite their wealth, her parents always preferred simplicity over extravagance.
As she walked further in, the sound of basketball filled the air, and the rich aroma of food drifted from the kitchen, signaling her mother was cooking. The sight of her father, comfortably reclined in his favorite chair, brought an unexpected wave of comfort .
A smile tugged at her lips, momentarily easing the tightness in her chest. “The favorite is here!” Sevyn announced, her voice light, teasing.
Her father, Steven Love, snapped his head up, a broad grin spreading across his face.
Despite being in his fifties, he didn’t look a day over thirty-five.
His rich chocolate skin remained smooth, glowing effortlessly under the warm lighting.
Bald and unapologetically proud of it, he leaned into every spoiled bald dad joke known to man, a running gag in the Love household.
Standing at 6’3 with a solid build, he remained disciplined with his workouts, a fact that only added to his commanding yet welcoming presence.
Steven Love had everything—looks, wealth, an undeniable aura that could command any room—but the only woman he ever wanted was Trina Love.
“Hey, Miracle,” he greeted, standing to wrap her in a tight hug. The moment she was in his arms, the last of her nerves settled. She inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne, lingering in the embrace before they finally pulled away.
His eyes took a moment to admire her before shifting to Dorian. “Thug Dizzle!” he hyped, making both of them laugh.
“Wassup, Unc!” Dorian grinned as they dapped each other up, then embraced in a hug.
Right on cue, Trina Love emerged from the kitchen, a warm smile lighting up her face. “Baby girl!” she gushed, moving toward Sevyn with open arms.
“Hey, Ma,” Sevyn greeted, wrapping her in a hug, feeling the familiar warmth of her mother’s love.
“Niecey-Pooh!” Trina turned to Dorian, pulling her into an embrace just as tight.
As they all settled into the living room, Sevyn exhaled quietly, bracing herself. The moment felt calm now, but she knew the storm was coming.
“How’s everything been?” Steven asked, his deep voice carrying its usual authority mixed with genuine curiosity.
Sevyn offered a small smile, but Dorian, always attuned to her, caught the hesitation before she even spoke. Sensing the shift, she jumped in, effortlessly steering the conversation away from the tension bubbling beneath the surface.
“The shop’s doing great. More clients by the day,” Dorian answered, her tone light and easy. “And when I’m not working, I’m looking after this one.” She nudged Sevyn playfully.
Laughter rippled through the room. Everyone knew how inseparable they were—more like sisters than cousins. Being born just hours apart, Dorian had taken her role as the ‘older one’ seriously since day one, always playing protector, even when Sevyn didn’t ask for it.
The moment passed quickly, though, and the air thickened again as Trina’s sharp gaze landed on her daughter. “Now, you’ve been avoiding us, and I want to know why.”
Sevyn’s stomach tightened. She had known this was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier. She cleared her throat, gathering the courage to finally tell them. It wasn’t the truth itself that made her anxious—it was their reaction, especially her father’s.