18

18

The next morning, Imani made breakfast herself.

Which was rare. The nanny usually did it, but today Imani needed to feel normal. She needed to watch her son eat pancakes and spend time with him.

Jaden sat at the kitchen island, his little legs swinging, syrup all over his mouth.

"Mommy, more," he mumbled.

Imani smiled and poured more. Then she tried to sound casual.

"Jaden, baby... that watch on your desk. The silver one. Who owns it?" She asked casuallly, the question had been weighing on her mind.

Jaden didn't even look up. He kept chewing.

"Uncle Killian gave it to me," he said, matter-of-factly.

Imani's fork froze mid-air.

"What?"

"Uncle Killian," Jaden repeated, finally looking up with syrup on his chin. "He came to pick his cousin in school, he played with me and gave me! He said it was a big boy watch. He said when I grow up, I can be like him."

Imani's heart dropped straight into her stomach. She choked on the bite of egg in her mouth, coughing hard.

"Mommy, are you okay? Do you need water?” Jaden patted her back with his tiny sticky hand.

Imani nod, “Yeah, sweetie, mommy need to go now,” cleared her throat and stood up so fast her chair screeched.

That man. Why the hell does he have that watch? Why is that initials in it?? Killan—he can’t—That insane, arrogant, boundary-less man.

Before she could grab her phone to call Killian and throw questions at him, the gate bell rang.

The nanny checked the intercom. "Ma'am, it's Mr. Luke."

Imani frowned. "What is he doing here?"

Outside, Luke Anderson stood leaning against his old Mercedes, looking completely different from last night. Clean-shaven. Hair combed. Wearing a fresh navy suit. Holding two coffees and smiling like the old Luke.

"Good morning," he announced as Imani stepped out, still in her silk robe. "I thought I'd offer to help you get to work."

Imani stared at him like he was crazy. "What are you doing at my house, Luke?"

"Driving you," he said smoothly. "Your driver called in sick, didn't he? I... I spoke to Emily. She said you might need a ride for the shareholders meeting. Consider it my first act of good faith. For our deal."

Imani's eyes narrowed. "You spoke to Emily?"

"I'm trying to be useful, Imani," Luke said, his voice softening, playing the victim perfectly. "Let me help you. Let me prove I can be trusted again."

Imani didn't have time to argue. She just stared at him, “Fine. But didn’t try this ever again, I’m letting it go because the shareholders meeting is a critical moment for me,” She told him and went back into the house.

Before the door closed, Luke managed to see a kid’s toy scattered around the house. He knitted his eyebrows, “Does a kid lives here?” He mumbled to himself and wanted to go in when the guards blocked his path.

He moved away slowly, “Tsk, once I win Imani back…y’all will be begging me for your jobs,” He muttered.

---

3PM — IMANI TECH BOARDROOM — 14TH FLOOR

The room was cold. Twenty shareholders, all old, all men, all looking at Imani like she was a child who had broken their favorite toy.

"Ms. Shawn, our stock is down 18% in two days," one of them barked. "The press is saying you used company funds to employ proxy workers and steals others ideas? Is that true?”

"Ms. Shawn, we need assurance—"

Imani stood at the head of the table, calm, but her hands were sweating under the table. “I believe all false accusations has been proven wrong. I have made myself clear that I work solely on truth. What else do I need to do to make you believe me?”

“Ms Shawn, we are scared you’d steal our money.”

“Your Tech company just started blooming! How can we be sure it will keep blooming with its stocks that has gone down?”

Everyone threw questions putting Imani on spot, she wished to answer everyone of them but the tension was too much. Just right then, the door opened. Luke walked in, like a knight in a shinning armor.

"Gentlemen," he said, with that his sharp smile. Immediately he stepped in, everyone kept quiet.

Luke walked to the whiteboard, picked up a marker, and became someone else entirely.

He didn't beg. He didn't stammer. He pitched.

"You're looking at this wrong," he said, drawing a sharp graph. "The press says Imani is unstable? Good. Let them. Volatility is attention. And attention is currency. While they are watching her fight her ex, they are not watching what Shawn Tech is actually doing — which is acquiring three smaller fintech startups at 40% below market value this week."

He clicked a remote. Numbers filled the screen — real numbers, from Imani's private files. He had studied them overnight.

"The freeze on Anderson Holdings wasn't revenge. It was strategy. It was Shawn Tech calling in a bad loan to prove to you — its investors — that it doesn't tolerate debt. That it protects its assets. That's not emotional. That's ruthless business. And that's why you should trust her."

The room went quiet.

Then one shareholder slowly nodded. Then another.

"That... actually makes sense," someone murmured.

"The acquisition news — is that true, Ms. Shawn?"

Imani, stunned, quickly recovered. "Yes. We were going to announce it Friday. Mr. Anderson... accelerated the timeline."

Luke smiled at her. A conspirator's smile.

Within twenty minutes, the mood had completely shifted. The shareholders who had come to demand her resignation were now shaking her hand, reassured, and apologizing for not trusting her.

"We were worried for nothing, Imani. You have our full support."

"We trust you once again."

The meeting ended with applause. Applause that was for her, but won by Luke.

As the room emptied, Imani let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

“That—that was incredible.” she whispered to Luke.

"I told you," he whispered back. "I know how to make them believe in you."

They walked back to her private office, still buzzing from the win. Emily rushed in with two coffees to celebrate — and tripped on the carpet.

"Watch out!" Luke shouted.

The hot coffee flew — straight toward Imani. Luke saw it coming, he smirked “Time to let you fall for me, Imani,” He whispered.

In a split seconds, Luke didn't think. He lunged forward, throwing his own body in front of Imani’s, his back taking the full splash of scalding hot Americano.

"AH!" He hissed in pain, his shirt instantly soaked, steam rising from his back.

"Luke!" Imani screamed, her eyes almost popping out of its sockets, she grabbed him. "Emily! Get cold water! Get the first aid box!" She yelled at Emily.

Emily ran out, panicked while Imani pulled Luke to the couch, her hands frantic. "Take off your shirt, take it off, you'll burn!"

Luke gritted his teeth, his face pale with pain, and peeled off his shirt. His back was bright red, blistering already.

Imani's eyes watered. "You... you idiot. Why would you do that? Are you trying to leave a scar?!" She almost screamed at him.

Luke smiled softly, "Because you would have been burned," he gasped through clenched teeth, looking up at her with those soft, suffering eyes. "I couldn't let you get hurt, Imani. Never."

Imani heart sank, ‘what’s he doing? Why is he looking at me with those flirty eyes?’ Series of questions ran through Imani’s mind.

Emily came back immediately, Imani quickly grabbed the burn ointment Emily brought and knelt behind him.

Emily left the room.

Imani’s fingers were gentle, trembling, as she squeezed the cold ointment and slowly rubbed it onto his burning skin.

"Does it hurt?" she whispered.

"A little," he murmured, leaning into her touch. "But it's better when you..." He suddenly turned back and held her wrist, his thumb stroking it.

"Imani, I—"

The office door flung opened, Killian Morgan stood there and Emily behind after she had tried not to let him in. He had a file in his hand — the real partnership proposal he had promised to bring, no dates attached. He had come to stop by, to support her after the shareholder meeting.

He stopped dead when he saw them.

Imani — on her knees — behind a shirtless Luke, her hands on his bare back, his hand holding her wrist, both of them breathing hard, close, intimate. Killan mind went blank.

He wasn’t expecting that kind of posture.

Killian's face went blank. Then dark, suddenly the file in his hand crumpled slightly as his fist tightened.

“Seems like I’m interrupting something?" he gritted through his teeth, his voice so cold it made the air freeze.