Chapter 24 #2
Everything clicked.
“The same bitch Braxton cheated on Sevyn with,” Hassan muttered, voice low, jaw locked. “Her so-called best friend.”
“So why would Braxton and his goofy-ass baby mama be stealin’ from the same nigga that’s supposed to be helpin’ him?” Roman asked, still trying to make sense of it.
“Maybe Carlos don’t know shit,” Jules said calmly, watching them. “Maybe he not helpin’ Braxton at all.”
They both looked at him.
Jules leaned forward. “Look at it this way—Braxton’s a greedy- ass nigga.
Always been. He the type that want his cake, and everyone else’s too.
If this was only about revenge, Sevyn wouldn’t be the bait.
He would've caught Hassan slippin’ plenty of times and handled it then. But this? This feels personal.”
“This shit not clicking,” Roman muttered again, frustrated. “Didn’t Braxton and Sevyn date?” Jules asked.
Roman nodded. “Yeah, but she left his sorry ass.”
“Then he finds out she with you,” Jules said, eyeing Hassan. “You took that nigga’s daddy and his bitch.”
Hassan’s eyes snapped up, sharp and lethal.
“My bad,” Jules corrected, hands up. “Didn’t mean no disrespect.”
Hassan didn’t say a word, but the temperature in the room dropped.
“This bigger than revenge,” Jules continued. “That nigga want Sevyn back. He obsessed. And I bet that Ariel bitch—his baby mama— is helpin’ him launder that stolen money into private accounts. Braxton don’t want war. He tryna disappear. Run off with Sevyn like she his.”
“And he know killin’ Hassan damn near impossible,” Roman added. “So he lettin’ Carlos handle that part.”
The room went silent, everything clicking now.
And Hassan? He just sat there, still as a loaded gun, but his mind was moving fast. Every second they wasted, Sevyn was in danger. And now he knew—this wasn’t just business .
It was personal. Real fucking personal. And Braxton was gonna bleed for it.
"I need to see this hoe," Hassan said, standing abruptly, his tone cold as hell. He was talking about Ariel. Roman was already on it, dialing Von, who was still holding things down with Dorian and Harper at the vacation house, Bully posted with them too.
“What’s the word?” Von answered smoothly.
“Aye, we need a location on Ariel Caldwell,” Roman said, glancing over at Hassan, who stood like a ticking bomb, waiting.
“There’s three Ariel Caldwells in the system living in Memphis,” Von responded, already pulling data.
“Her pops owns Caldwell Credit Union,” Hassan added without blinking, his voice tight with heat and intent.
“Bet. Got her,” Von said seconds later. “East Memphis. Just sent the address.”
Both Roman and Hassan’s phones buzzed.
“Aye, how my baby and cousin doing?” Roman asked, smirking a little as he leaned back.
“They straight. Complaining about being bored, and now they won’t stop harassing me about doing my nails,” Von said, amused.
“And the gift?” Roman asked, referring to Celine.
“She woke up a lil’ while ago. Dorian went to check on her. Whatever she slipped in that tea knocked her right back out. Nigga, I was impressed.” Von chuckled low.
“My thugga baby,” Roman said proudly.
Hassan stood silent. Awkward. Wishing like hell he could be on that phone talking to his baby too.
But he had no clue where she was or what condition she was in.
Just the thought of Sevyn’s name, her voice, the feel of her skin—it had his jaw locking and his blood on fire.
“Yeah, ya’ll left me with they crazy asses,” Von said, but the smirk in his voice gave him away—he was enjoying it.
“Is that my cousin?” Harper’s voice rang from the background, bold and sweet all at once.
“Nah, Roman, love,” Von answered, his tone dropping a level, smoothing out like velvet.
Hassan clocked the change in his voice. He knew Von was feeling Harper, and from what he could tell, Harper was feeling him back— quiet, unspoken, but real. Hassan didn’t mind. Von was solid. Loyal. He could trust him with his life, so trusting him with his cousin? That was nothing.
But still, if Von ever played with her heart… Hassan would have him buried beneath the damn city.
And Von knew that too.
“Can I see the phone?” Harper asked, and seconds later, her voice rang c lear through the speaker.
“Hey, Roman. Is my cousin by you?”
Roman glanced at Hassan, who stood stiff, his hands buried in his pockets, eyes cold, jaw tight. He shook his head, silently mouthing no. “Nah, he out,” Roman lied casually, but Harper wasn’t buying that shit.
“Nigga, you always been a bad liar. I know he standing right there, hands in his pockets, ready to kill somebody.”
Roman chuckled, because damn—she was dead on. That’s exactly how Hassan was standing.
“Hassan, I know you don’t want to talk… so just listen,” Harper said softly. “I talked to Madea. She asked about you and Sevyn. I didn’t tell her what happened, but she sounded worried. I tried to keep my voice calm, but I’m worried too.”
Hassan’s jaw tightened. He didn’t want to feel anything right now. Emotions clouded his thinking, and he couldn’t afford that—not with Sevyn gone. But it was hard not to feel when the one woman who broke down every wall in him was out there, hurting.
“You’re gonna get her back, San. I know you think this is all your fault, but it’s not.”
Roman nodded in agreement, but Hassan clenched his fists. He was sick of hearing that.
It is his fault. If he hadn’t gone looking for revenge, if he hadn’t stayed in the streets, if he hadn’t pulled Sevyn into his world—none of this would’ve happened.
“I love you, cousin. And I know Sevyn does too,” Harper continued, her voice trembling now. “I know you, Hassan. I know you’re thinking about leaving her after you save her. You did the same thing to me after what Hendrix did.”
Hassan shifted, his body tense, haunted by the memory.
“You blamed yourself for not protecting me, even though it wasn’t your fault. You stayed by my side, but you left me emotionally. You shut down. And I know if I wasn’t so damn clingy—begging you to stay—you would’ve disappeared because of that guilt.”
He exhaled, slow and tight, his throat aching. “This isn’t your fault either.”
He wanted Roman to hang up. He wanted to walk out. But Sevyn’s voice echoed in his head—“ Listen, Hassan.”
“So don’t leave her. Don’t shut down on her. She needs you, and not just now—but after this. Don’t hurt her again by walking away.”
Hassan’s chest tightened. His jaw clenched harder, like it was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart.
Everyone kept telling him not to leave her. And even though that was the last thing he wanted to do, he didn’t know if staying was safe .
“I love you both… even you, Jules,” Harper added, trying to lighten the heaviness in the room.
Jules chuckled in the background as Roman smiled.
“We love you too, Haz. Kiss my baby on the cheek for me. And you two get some damn rest—it’s three in the morning.”
Harper laughed. “Yo ass so in love. I can’t believe you actually settling down with one woman.”
“Dorian’s all the two wives I need,” Roman said without hesitation. “You’ve seen both sides of her. I can’t handle another woman even if I wanted to.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I’ll cut that dick off and feed it to you if you try,” Dorian yelled in the background, making them all laugh.
“Aight, Roman, ya’ll be safe. Wait…” Harper paused. “Did he listen to what I said?”
Roman smirked, glancing at his brother who hadn’t moved since the call started.
“Every word, cuh.”
Then the line went dead.
“We can move on her ass tomorrow. It's late… and nigga, you need some sleep,” Roman said, standing up from the chair.
Hassan looked at him like he’d just said the dumbest shit in the world. “You expect me to sleep without my baby?” he bit out, voice low and laced with venom.
Roman held up his hands. “Nah, that’s not what I meant, San—”
“She out there hurt. Tortured. Probably cold as fuck in some basement, and you want me to lay in a comfortable-ass bed like everything’s okay?” Hassan stepped forward, his chest rising with fury.
Roman didn’t back down. They stood toe to toe, tension thick. “Nigga, you ain’t gon’ be strong enough to save her if you don’t sleep or eat something. You ain’t did either since she left—”
“She didn’t fucking leave!” Hassan roared, cutting him off, his voice cracking from the pain. “She was taken, snatched from me—and I’m not eating shit or closing my eyes until she back in my fucking skin!”
His fists clenched, chest heaving. The rage couldn’t hold back the tears burning behind his eyes. “I can’t lose her, bruh… she my peace. My air, my fucking lifeline!”
His voice broke mid-sentence, and the weight of it all came crashing down. Roman didn’t hesitate. He pulled him in, and for the first time in his life, Hassan let himself fall.
His body shook in his brother’s arms, his cries guttural and raw. Roman held him tight. “We gon’ get her back, nigga. I promise you that,” he whispered, his voice firm but filled with emotion .
Hassan didn’t say a word. His tears said enough. His body burned with grief, his soul starving for Sevyn’s touch.
They left Jules’s gym in silence. Hassan didn’t go home. He couldn’t.
He drove straight to Sevyn’s penthouse, parked outside like he had every night since she’d been taken.
He stared up at her window, refusing to let go of the fantasy that she was in there.
That she was doing her nightly routine, walking around barefoot in that silk robe, her curls wrapped, face glowing, peace radiating from her like always.
But she wasn’t. She was somewhere dark, maybe starving, maybe cold, maybe—
No.
He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He couldn’t let his mind go there.
The only time he went home was to shower and change, and even that felt like betrayal. He couldn’t enjoy the warmth of clean water or fresh clothes knowing Sevyn might still be wearing the same outfit they kidnapped her in.