Chapter 22
H assan paced his living room like a caged animal, every breath heavy with guilt and rage.
It had been an hour since Sevyn left—her tears still etched into his memory, the red marks of his fingers still burning on her throat, and that look…
That look in her eyes when she realized he wasn’t there with her anymore.
That he couldn’t recognize the woman he loved when his demons took over.
Now, he was unraveling.
He’d never feared anything in his life. Not death.
Not blood. Not the lives he’d taken without blinking.
But this? This fear—the fear of losing Sevyn—had him in a chokehold.
He had destroyed damn near everything in the room trying to release it.
Furniture overturned, glass shattered across the floor, and rage pulsing through every vein in his body.
“FUCK!” he roared, slapping a lamp off the stand, the crash echoing like gunfire in his ears.
The shattered pieces on the floor mocked him. A reflection of her. Of what he did. His hands—meant to protect—had turned into weapons. And if it weren’t for his mother’s spirit stepping in, he would’ve taken the one woman who truly saw him—loved him—out of this world.
The weight of it dropped him to his knees. He had no control. No peace. Just the constant replay of her face, the sound of her voice, the soft kiss she left on his cheek before walking out like it might be the last time.
The doorbell rang. A sharp knock followed.
Hassan froze, breath caught in his throat. His security hadn’t called. Only Roman and Harper had access without alert. A small sliver of hope flickered in his chest—maybe it was her. Maybe she came back. Maybe she was ready to talk.
He swung the door open fast—too fast. And just like that, the flicker died.
Harper stood there, and the scowl returned to his face like a reflex.
Not because he didn’t love her—but because she wasn’t Sevyn.
And right now, all he wanted in this fucked up, broken world… was S evyn.
Harper stepped into the house, eyes glued to her phone as her fingers moved rapidly, shooting off yet another text. She didn’t spare Hassan a glance as she passed him, irritation and concern practically radiating off her.
“Harper, what the fuck are you doing here?” Hassan asked, his voice low and sharp, his eyes already weighed down with emotion.
Still focused on her phone, Harper replied flatly, “Looking for Sevyn. She’s not answering my calls, and it’s our movie night.
We never miss that shit.” She tapped the screen again, her thumbs flying as she tried Sevyn for the tenth time.
“I figured she might be here— locked in your room or some shit.”
The mention of Sevyn’s name sent a sharp pang through Hassan’s chest, making it damn near impossible to breathe. Just an hour ago, he had his hands around her throat. Just an hour ago, he lost her.
“And don’t think I don’t know y’all fucking,” Harper added with a dry laugh, still texting. “Dorian slipped up. I put two and two together at the hospice. It’s whatever—just tell her to come out, it’s my turn with my best friend tonight.”
When she finally looked up, her smile died instantly. Hassan wasn’t standing in front of her like himself. He wasn’t composed. He wasn’t cold. He looked… broken. His shoulders sagged with shame. His face was tight with pain. And for the first time in her life, Harper saw tears swelling in his eyes.
“Hassan?” Her tone shifted, panic creeping in. “What the hell happened?”
She took a step closer, only now noticing the wreckage—broken furniture, shattered glass, chaos in every corner of the room. And Hassan hadn’t said a word.
Before he could even open his mouth, the front door slammed open.
Dorian stormed in, Roman right behind her. Dorian looked murderous. Roman looked confused, but ready for whatever.
“What the fuck did you do to my cousin?!” Dorian screamed, rushing past Harper and straight at Hassan. Her tears matched the fury on her face.
Harper stood there, stunned. “Wait—what? What’s going on?!” Dorian didn’t wait for answers. She threw a punch, hard and fast.
Her fist cracked across Hassan’s jaw, but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t raise a hand to stop her. He just took it.
Roman moved to grab her, but Hassan held up a hand—calm, quiet, surrendering. Let her hit him. Let her scream. Let her get it out.
Because he deserved it.
Dorian kept swinging, her fists pounding against his chest and arms, sobs breaking through her rage. “You hurt her!” she cried. “You fucking hurt her!”
Hassan stood tall, silent, guilt etched into every inch of his face.
He didn’t fight back.
Because she was right. And the truth was eating him alive.
“Aight, Dori! That’s enough!” Harper shouted, grabbing her arm and yanking her back.
Dorian snatched away, eyes blazing. “This nigga hurt her! Did something to my cousin—and this ain’t near enough!”
“I’m just as confused and worried about Sevyn as you are,” Harper snapped back, her voice shaking, “but Hassan is still my blood, and you not about to stand here and beat on him like he’s a fuckin’ punching bag.”
But even as she defended him, Harper’s eyes drifted to her cousin—and what she saw only made her stomach twist. Hassan wasn’t fighting back.
He wasn’t mouthing off. He looked gutted, his whole body caving in under the weight of something unforgivable.
And the tears in his eyes—real, silent tears—told her this wasn’t just about Sevyn leaving.
This was deeper. Darker.
“Hassan… what the fuck did you do?” Harper asked, her voice trembling now, fear threading through her anger.
“I—” he started, but the words choked out before they could take shape.
“You what, nigga?!” Dorian barked, getting in his face again. “Spit the shit out!”
Roman stepped in, wrapping his arms tight around her before she could swing again. “San, what the fuck is goin’ on?” he asked low, calm—trying to keep the room from detonating.
Hassan stood frozen for a long moment. His jaw clenched, his shoulders heavy with shame. And then finally—he broke.
“I hurt her,” he said, barely above a whisper. But his voice cracked under the weight of the words, slicing the air like a blade.
The whole room fell silent.
Harper’s heart dropped. “What the fuck do you mean you hurt her?”
“Let me the fuck go, Roman!” Dorian snapped, fighting against his grip, ready to swing again.
Hassan’s voice came in a rush. “I thought—” he swallowed, the guilt eating him alive. “I thought she was my pops. I blacked out. I didn’t know it was her…”
Harper blinked, stunned. But the pieces clicked before he could say another word.
“You hurt her… because you were hallucinating,” she finished quiet ly, the realization making her breath catch.
Roman’s jaw tightened. He looked away, shaking his head. Because they knew. They knew this side of Hassan. The blackouts.
The rage. The moments where his bipolar disorder dragged him into a past he couldn’t escape.
Harper had once locked herself in a closet as a teenager while Hassan tore her room apart.
Roman had gone toe to toe with him more than once when Hassan mistook him for someone else during a spiral. But Sevyn?
Sevyn was the one person who saw him through it all—who never flinched, never ran. And now, she was the one who paid the price.
And by the look on Hassan’s face… he didn’t know if he’d ever get her back.
"I need to call Sevyn," Harper said, already dialing as panic started to creep into her chest.
"Roman, I swear to God—you’re gonna be laid up in a grave next to this crazy-ass nigga if you don’t let me the fuck go!" Dorian snapped, thrashing against Roman's hold. But Roman tightened his grip, refusing to let her fly off the handle again.
The room went silent as Sevyn’s call went straight to voicemail.
Tension thickened.
"She’s not going to answer!" Dorian shouted, her voice breaking. "She was on the phone with me when she left this bastard’s place— crying, shaking, barely holding it together. Then I heard a scream… and the line went dead."
Harper’s breath hitched. Hassan froze, his entire body locking up.
"A scream?" he asked, his voice suddenly low and dangerous.
"Yeah, mane," Dorian said, softer now. "She was panicked… asking if I still had her location. Next thing I knew, it went silent. That’s why we rushed here."
Roman nodded. "We figured if she wasn’t answering, you’d know something."
But Hassan didn’t. And the realization ripped through him like a blade.
His heart thundered in his chest as he yanked out his phone and dialed Von. The call barely rang once.
"Track Sevyn’s car. Now," Hassan barked. His voice was cold, trembling with urgency.
Von paused, and Hassan’s heart dropped. "Boss…"
"Mane, spit that shit out!" Hassan growled, pacing now, his fury boiling over.
Von sighed heavily. "I tracked it—not far from your place. Closest traffic cam caught it. Her car’s crashed into a tree off the side of the highway. It’s smoking. Might be on fire."
Silence fell like a bomb .
"The fuck?" Roman muttered, disbelief and horror flooding his voice.
Tears welled in both Dorian’s and Harper’s eyes. Dorian’s knees nearly buckled.
"I checked the footage from an hour ago," Von continued.
"A black Escalade was following her. Looked like she noticed and tried to lose it.
But when she took a sharp turn, they rammed her—hard.
Sent her spinning into a tree. Cameras cut out right after that.
Like someone wiped the scene. No footage of her getting pulled out.
No license plate. No face. Just… smoke and silence. "
Hassan didn’t wait. He grabbed his keys and bolted for the door like a man possessed.
Everyone else followed, hearts pounding, tears falling, dread swallowing them whole.
Hassan didn’t care about Braxton. He didn’t care about whatever war was brewing around him.
He only cared about one thing now— Finding Sevyn. Alive.