Chapter 23
IMANI’S POV
The screech of tires tore through the air, slicing the quiet like a blade. My body jerked forward, the seatbelt locking tight across my chest as Gerald slammed on the brakes. The car shuddered violently before coming to a halt, the smell of burning rubber rising into the air.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” Gerald’s voice trembled slightly as he turned to me. His hands still clutched the steering wheel.
I pressed a palm against my chest and took a slow breath before answering. “I’m fine.” The word came out steadier than I felt. My pulse was racing, but I ignored it. My eyes lifted to the windshield, landing on a flash of bright pink.
I should have known. Only one person in this city would be arrogant enough to drive something that loud in color.
The door opened, and there she was, stumbling out of the car in all her glittering, nauseating glory. Her heels clicked sharply against the road as she turned to inspect the bumper. Her hands flew dramatically to her hair as if the car’s minor scratch was a mortal wound.
“Are you insane?” she shrieked, her voice shrill enough to cut glass. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Gerald glanced at me nervously. “I’ll handle it, ma’am,” he said before stepping out of the car.
I stayed quiet, watching through the tinted window as he approached her with calm professionalism.
“Ma’am, please relax. You appeared suddenly from the corner, and—”
A sharp crack filled the air.
My jaw clenched. She had slapped him.
“Do not talk back to me!” she shouted, jabbing a finger toward his chest. “Do you know how much this car costs? It’s custom made! Someone like you could never afford to breathe near it, let alone touch it!”
I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to stay seated. Gerald didn’t deserve this.
Through the glass, I saw her shove him aside and storm toward my car. She hit her palm against the window once, then again, harder this time.
“Whoever is in there, come out right now!” she yelled.
That was enough.
I opened the door and stepped out. Her face twisted when she saw me. For a brief second, her expression faltered before hardening again.
“Imani?” she said, her tone dripping with disdain.
“Shela,” I replied evenly. “Still having trouble understanding how traffic lights work?”
Her mouth fell open. “You were the one that hit me,” she said sharply. “Your stupid driver nearly destroyed my car.”
I turned to glance at the so-called damage. It was barely visible. A faint scratch on the bumper that could have been wiped off with polish.
“It’s just a scratch,” I said flatly.
Her gasp was theatrical. “Just a scratch? This car is worth more than your entire life!”
“Gerald,” I said
He straightened immediately. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Bring my chequebook.”
Ashley blinked, confusion flickering across her face. “What?”
When Gerald returned, I took the chequebook from him, opened it, and began to write. The pen glided smoothly across the paper, the ink forming perfect strokes.
I tore out the page and held it toward her. “One million dollars,” I said calmly. “That should cover the car and your oversized ego.”
Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You can’t just throw money at me and think—”
Before she could finish, I reached into my purse and pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill. I flicked it toward her, and it landed at her feet.
“And that’s for your hair,” I said. “Buy a mirror. It looks like a raccoon died on your head.”
For a moment, she just stood there, staring at me as if she couldn’t decide whether to scream or cry. The wind caught her hair, tangling it further, and she looked every bit as ridiculous as her car.
I turned and walked back to the car. “Drive,” I told Gerald once I was seated.
He didn’t hesitate. The car glided forward, leaving Ashley behind in a cloud of her own outrage.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke. The city lights reflected across the windows, washing the leather interior in gold and silver.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Gerald said quietly. “You didn’t have to do that. Most people would have blamed me or worse.”
I watched the streetlights flash by, my reflection calm in the glass. “No one deserves to be humiliated for doing their job,” I said softly.
He smiled faintly but didn’t reply.
I leaned back, letting the quiet settle. My thoughts began to wander, drifting through the years to the faces of people who used to look down on me. The ones who whispered behind my back, the ones who thought I’d never be anything more than a poor scholarship student.
They had power then. Now I did.
I would never let anyone take it from me again.
My phone buzzed beside me, cutting through the hum of the engine. I picked it up, glancing at the message.
Him again.
I’m sorry, mama. Please, I didn’t mean it. I miss you.
I rolled my eyes and dropped the phone back onto the seat.
If he wasn’t such a good distraction, his contract would have ended long ago. But he served his purpose. Most of them did, until they started catching feelings. That was always their mistake.
There were rules.
Do not fall in love.
Do not contact her outside of agreed hours.
Obey without question.
Once they broke those rules, they became problems to be removed.
I crossed my legs, sinking deeper into the seat as the city skyline came into view. The lights glittered like a crown in the distance, proud and untouchable.
Power. Wealth. Beauty. Control.
I had all of it now.
But I knew better than to let my guard down. Love was a luxury for the weak. I had no room for it. Not anymore.
My reflection in the window stared back at me, calm and cold, lips curved into a faint smile.
The woman I saw there was no longer the girl who used to beg for approval or crumble under rejection. She was the one who learned how to make people kneel.
And no one would ever make her fall again.