25

25

Imani got back to the office at 12:04 PM than usual, she headed straight to the company’s restroom, splashed water on her face, and told herself to get it together. “Oh Imani, I can’t believe you did all that this morning and last night” She scolded herself as she stares at herself in the mirror.

She suddenly agrees with herself mentally “Well..I’m the CEO, I should lay down good examples..isn’t it?” She mumbled.

Even if she did it out of kindness and consideration…what the hell is that salty soup she fed Killan?? She face palmed herself just by thing about it again.

But the back and forth between herself washed off the moment she stepped off the elevator on the 32nd floor, Luke Anderson was already waiting there.

Clinging onto her like glue.

“Where have you been?” he asked, falling into step beside her, too close. His hand brushed her lower back. “I called you four times. Emily said you had an emergency with your investors but then Emily’s back and you weren’t. I was worried.” He told her.

“I’m fine, Luke,” Imani said, walking faster toward her office.

He’s the least person she wants to talk to right now.

He followed her right inside, closing the door behind him even though she didn’t ask him to.

“You don’t look fine. You look tired,” he said, his eyes scanning her face, her hair. Then his eyes dropped to her collar.

He reached out — without asking — and touched the edge of her white shirt.

“Wait, what’s this?”

Imani froze, she looked down to her shirt.

There was a tiny, yellowish drop of ginger soup on her collar. She must have splashed it while reheating it in Killian’s kitchen.

Luke rubbed it between his fingers, sniffed it. “Ginger? Chicken soup? Did you... cook this morning?”

Imani’s jaw tightened. She stepped back sharply, out of his reach.

“Perceiving a lot, aren’t you?” she said coldly.

Luke smiled, that charming Anderson smile that used to work on her. “I’m just saying, you don’t cook, You hate cooking. So who—”

“I said mind your business,” Imani cut him off, her voice low and sharp. “And get out of my office. I don’t think I need you to preach to me,”

Luke’s smile faltered for a second, he tried to touch her.

“Imani, come on—”

“Get out of my office, Luke.”

She said it louder this time, looking straight at him. Her look was giving, ‘I’m your Boss, Do as I say,’

Luke looked at Imani one last time, he saw she was already working so he walked out of the door, closed the door behind him, his hands in his pockets. But his eyes never left hers through the glass wall. He stood outside her office for a full minute, just watching her pretend to type, pretending not to see him.

And he found himself smiling. A small, possessive smile. Because she was flustered. And Imani Shawn only got flustered when she was hiding something.

“What are you this time, Imani?”

He pulled out his phone while still staring at her, opened the tracking app he had secretly downloaded ever since they became partners,

He checked her location history from this morning. His brows furrowed together as he saw the location, “Where is this place? Who is she meeting?”

He zoomed in, it was a residential building.

He frowned. “Where the hell is that?”

He took a screenshot then sent it to an unknown number, “Find who owns this house,” He texted then finally left.

———-

Killian Morgan was still sitting on his couch, staring at the two bowls on his coffee table.

One empty. One full.

His empty bowl — the salty soup he ate all of without complaining, because she made it. Because she stayed.

He was still reminiscing on what Imani did for him last night. Even in his sleep, he could still recall how she treated him so sweetly. He smiled to himself, he’s seeing another side of Imani.

The way she whispered “Don’t you dare sick after telling me to mind my business.” The way her hands felt on his forehead.

He touched his forehead now, as though he could still feel her there.

He had never had anyone take care of him since his mom died. Not like that. Not without wanting something.

A smile started to form on his cracked lips — a real one, small, stupid.

When his doorbell rang.

Ding dong.

His head snapped up and his lips broke into a wider smile as his heart jumped.

He got excited, too fast, thinking Imani had come back. Maybe she forgot her bag….Maybe she forgot the key. Maybe she came back for him? Hope filled him that moment.

He stood up too quickly, still dizzy, and yanked the door open, already saying, “You forgot—”

He stopped, his little bundle of joy shattered in a seconds. The Hope broke in an instant.

It wasn’t Imani.

Standing in his doorway, in a black leather jacket, with the same eyes as him but a scar on his left eyebrow. A face he never expected to see…A man he’s not on good terms with.

His brother.

Roi.

Roi Morgan leaned against the doorframe, smirked, and said, “Well, well. Look who’s still alive?”