IMANI’s POV

“You’ve only been here for two days and you’re already causing a stir.” His rustic voice rang through the phone.

“I haven’t even started yet.” I replied, a cold smirk on my face.

“You’re going to make a lot of enemies that way.” He warned, his voice filled with concern.

“So I’ve been told.” I said, my tone unbothered.

“But that’s not going to stop you, is it?” He asked, knowingly.

“The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, don’t you agree?” I retorted.

He laughed, “I believe so.” There was a slight pause, like he was thinking of his next words.

“When are you coming back to Europe?” I was expecting him to ask that.

“I’ve barely touched the grass as it is… I’d like to explore a bit more.”

“You could have gone anywhere else in the world. Asia, Africa– so why go back there?” He pressed.

My chest tightened, “The US market will be profitable for business. It’s a smart strategy.” I replied firmly, betraying what I felt inside.

“So you’re there only for business?” He questioned, his doubt clear.

“Why else would I come back here?” I asked, my voice flat.

He sighed, “I find that hard to believe. But whatever your reason may be… she wouldn’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way.”

I chuckled darkly, the dull ache in my chest growing. “I cannot be achieve anything substantial without taking risks, I’m sure she’d understand.” I said sharply.

“What more do you want to achieve, Imani? Youve established yourself as a global image, even without my influence… is that not enough?”

I clenched my fist, “She wanted me to be everything and more… so why should I settle?” My voice hardened.

“Youre just like her–stubborn and unrelenting.” He sighed in resignation, “But keep in mind that she would be so proud of the woman you’ve become… and so am I.” His voice was filled with warmth, as always.

“Imani!” Justin called me from inside.

“Is that a man’s voice I hear?? Thank you Jesus.” He teased.

I cackled, “It’s Justin, and he’s very much gay, incase you forgot.”

“I’ll keep praying for you, I need grandchildren soon.” He said with playful exasperation.

“Just adopt some babies dad, youll be fine.” I rolled my eyes.

“But you need a man in your life, because–“

“Hello? I can’t hear you? Hello?” I said faking bad reception, then I cut the call.

I always hated when he spoke about marriage and all that nonsense.

And lately, it’s been an increasingly prominent topic in our conversations.

“Imani!!!” He came out to the balcony, a wide smile on his face.

I narrowed my eyes, “What’s with the smile?” My tone skeptical.

“You recieved a mail!!” He exclaimed, tapping away on his iPad for a moment, before shoving it in my face.

“Why are you so excited over a mail?” Once I saw the contents of the mail, I frowned.

“Youve been invited to the annual Laufeux Charity Gala!!” He squeeled.

“I’m not interested.” I dropped the iPad in his hands and walked into the living room.

“What?? What do you mean you’re not interested??” He cried in disbelief.

“I’d rather do something more productive.” I sat on the couch and rested my head back.

“Productive??” He shook me by the shoulders dramatically, “This is the high society event in the US!! The 1% will be there, and you want to miss it??”

“I couldn’t care less about ‘elites’ or high profile douchebags coming together to frivolously flaunt their riches under the guise of charity.” I replied, contempt lacing my words.

I never went to these shams of charity events. The real charity was done by unpopular, small NGO’s. With the little they were able to raise, they would help as much people as possible.

My mother and I were one of those people.

“How do you plan to dominate the US market if you don’t even involve yourself with the ‘douchebags’ that literally hold it by the balls?” He reasoned.

As much I hated to admit it, he was right. No matter how it irritated me, it was needed… for my plan to come to fruition.

I sighed lightly, “When is it happening?”

“In three days, we have enough time to prepare!” He jumped up and whipped out his phone.

He began to pace, “Hello…yes…Imani Rodriguez…yes…can we get it in two days?… okay we’ll be right there.” He ended the call and turned to me.

“We have an appointment with Shela couture in twenty minutes.” He picked up his iPad, and yanked me off the couch.

“You know, you could just go in my place.” I suggested as he dragged me by the hand out of the penthouse.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t even think twice, if I could.”

He held my hand as we entered the elevator, and our humming ritual began.

Once the elevator opened, he led me outside to where the car parked. It was a sleek Mercedes this time.

“Good afternoon ma’am.” The driver tipped his hat to me, and opened the door for us.

“Afternoon Gerald.” I replied politely, entering the

car, Justin following immediately.

As the car moved, my eyes turned towards the streets.

“You keep looking outside like you’ve never seen it before.” Justin noted, his eyes regarding me briefly before turning back to his iPad.

“It feels like it…” I murmured.

It was something I did unconsciously now, looking and searching for something, anything that would trigger my memory.

Anything that would make me remember the fragments that had been lost.

In about fifteen minutes, we arrived at a neon pink building with ‘Shela couture’ sign plastered across the front.

If I didn’t know any better I’d have thought it was a strip club.

When we walked in, it was like a pink clown had thrown up all over the place.

The only thing that wasn’t pink was the hardwood floor and some chairs.

Everything else was pink – it was an eyesore.

I grimaced. Why would Justin bring me to such a place??

Ignoring the displeasure on my face, Justin walked up to th secretary, “Excuse me, we have an appointment with Shela?”

“Name?” She asked, without looking up from the screen.

“Imani Rodriguez.” I answered calmly.

Her wide eyes flew up, “Oh M-miss Rodriguez… Please have a sit, she’ll be with you shortly.” The secretary replied nervously.

I nodded lightly and lowered myself into one of the black chairs, crossing my legs out of habit.

I glanced at my watch, “If I have to wait longer than five minutes, I’m leaving.” I said impatiently.

“She’s aware of our appointment so she won’t–“ Suddenly, a high pitched voice cut him off. A voice I hadn’t heard in eight years.

My blood burned with sizzling anger.

“Miss Rodriguez!! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Her irritating voice rang as she walked towards us.

I eyed her from head to toe.

Unlike Cody, she had changed quite a lot–she looked nothing like the Ashley I knew.