Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
IMANIO “GATEZ”
T he hallway outside of the ballroom was dim and quiet, padded with plush carpet and soft and expensive lighting. But there was nothing soft about my steps as I approached Aaliyah.
She stood near the double doors, phone in hand, probably refreshing her Instagram story for reactions. Aaliyah must’ve felt my presence because she turned around smiling too easily.
“Well hello there, CEO? I noticed your wife leaving. I hope it wasn’t about that little accident?—”
I stepped forward so fast her breath caught.
“You think that shit was cute?” I gritted.
Her smile faded.
“You think spilling wine on a custom silk gown was an accident ? You leaned over a woman you don’t even know—who ain’t never said a word to you—and you just so happened to fumble your glass?”
“It was an accident!” she snapped, then tried to recover her tone. “I promise. I tripped a little. The carpet?—”
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Aaliyah.”
I didn’t raise my voice—I didn’t have to.
“Look, I’ma say this in the harshest way possible so you finally get it.”
I stepped forward just slightly.
“Aaliyah, you were never anything but a few forgettable nights. We didn’t date. We didn’t talk. We didn’t build shit . You were a distraction—a placeholder. Noise in a season I barely remember and don’t care to revisit.”
Her eyes lost their shine, like the truth had finally hit bone… but I didn’t stop there.
“And now you show up to my event, looking for attention like an unpaid intern, and try to humiliate my wife in a room full of investors? For what—clout? A quote tweet? A few gossip blogs to remember you exist?”
She blinked, visibly rattled now. “I don’t need clout; I have followers?—”
“You don’t have respect,” I rudely interrupted. “And in my world, that’s the only thing that keeps people breathing in certain circles.”
Aaliyah’s expression slipped somewhere between humiliation and realization, finally realizing who she was talking to.
“I don’t give a damn what fantasy you’re feeding yo’ lil’ internet fanbase. But here’s the truth. You don’t belong near me, and you damn sure don’t belong near her .”
“Imanio—”
“Don’t. Say. My. Name.”
The walls felt closer; like the hallway itself wanted to hold its breath.
I moved in closer, allowing my presence to do all the shouting I didn’t have to.
“You see, my wife, she’s the only woman I’ve ever taken seriously. The only one I’d bleed for and build a life with. Hell, I’ll burn this entire fucking industry to ash before I let a glorified selfie merchant like you try her again.”
“Selfie merchant?!” she retorted, offended.
“Yeah. You take pictures for likes. She walks through life being stared at, judged, and laughed at—and still shows up like royalty . You couldn’t carry her shadow.”
Aaliyah’s mouth opened, but nothing made it past the hesitation sitting in her throat.
I leaned in, letting every syllable drip like acid.
“You move messy again, Aaliyah, and I won’t just blackball you; I’ll make sure every brand you’ve ever tagged forgets your name. I’ll have your endorsements running for cover like rats in a flood. You’ll be back doing Fashion Nova hauls in your mama’s living room, wondering what went wrong.”
Her eyes darted once. She glanced off to the side, like maybe the exit sign would save her.
“Now keep yo’ distance before you find out how much darker I get when I’m protecting peace.”
I turned without waiting for her reply and ended up bumping into Chi, who was leaned against the entrance door, obviously eavesdropping.
“I was wondering how long you were gonna keep it corporate before snapping,” Chi said with a grin as he sipped from a champagne flute.
I didn’t smile… not right away.
“You saw that?” I asked.
“I saw the spill, the setup, and yo’ ass go from zero to hellfire just then.”
I exhaled.
“Bro, I’m sick of that bitch,” I muttered.
“Just say the word.”
I nodded then replied, “I didn’t think yo’ ass was coming here.”
“Bro, you know wherever Dess rolls, I’m there. Plus, I couldn’t miss your big moment, Mr. CEO . You sounded real grown up in there.”
I smirked, tired. “That obvious?”
“You dropped the ‘Gatez’ tone for once… used real words. Had Malcolm looking proud enough to levitate.”
We both chuckled.
Chi glanced toward the door Aaliyah had exited through. “She gone?”
“Hell if I know.”
Chi nodded. “Well, shid, forget about her. Focus on what just happened in there. This was your night… this was y’all’s night.”
I nodded slowly, my thoughts lingering on the events that had just unfolded. “I know. It’s just?—”
“She stained a dress. That’s silk, my nigga; it can be replaced, no problem. But the way Naji carries herself? That kind of confidence? You can’t buy that.”
We shared a brief moment of levity, but Chi’s eyes narrowed, the seriousness creeping back in.
“But if she steps back outta line again,” he said quietly, glancing around, making sure no one was eavesdropping, “I already know you got the shovels lined up… and the ground picked out.”
I nodded.
“Damn right. And I ain’t afraid to get my suit dirty.”
Chi nodded in agreement, his face grave but understanding, reflecting the bond we shared as brothers in arms.
He lifted his glass. "To brotherhood. To power. And to women who challenge us and make grown men like us better.”
I grabbed a flute filled with champagne from a passing waiter, then lifted mine in salute. “I’ll drink to that.”
And we did… For Naji, the empire and the kind of love that didn’t just survive heat, it turned it into fire.
The black Maybach rolled silently through the city as I headed home. But my mind was roaring. I stared out the window, jaw locked.
Aaliyah had stepped over the line and tried to play with something sacred. I’d seen women like her before—drunk on likes, desperate for relevance, hiding insecurity behind highlighter and captions.
But that? That shit was different.
Aaliyah didn’t just come for Naji’s dress; she came for her presence. And if she had the nerve to do that in public, she might try something worse in private.
I tapped a finger against the armrest.
If she tried anything else—crossed that invisible line again? I would turn her entire digital empire to dust, erasing everything she had built with ruthless efficiency.
No warning. No conversation. Just silence, heavy and suffocating, accompanied by unforgiving consequences.
I pulled out my phone, tapped a note, and saved it under one word.
Aaliyah… strike one.
The house was silent when I stepped inside, and the lights dimmed to shadows.
My footsteps were slow due to the alcohol that hummed low in my veins, but not enough to dull my focus.
As I moved quietly through the familiar space, I assumed Naji was asleep—and upon glancing toward the bedroom, I realized I was right.
There she was—curled under the covers in nothing but a silk wrap.
One leg was bent just above the knee, while her lips were slightly parted, a perfect blend of innocence and temptation.
I didn’t dare speak or try to wake her with lightening; I simply stood at the doorway, transfixed, watching her breathe softly in the stillness.
A strange tightening in my chest unfolded—a visceral need, an unquenchable ache. It was not only for her body, which I craved, but also for the instinct to protect her. To shield her from the wickedness that lurked just outside our sanctuary.
I pulled off my jacket, then loosened my shirt to savor the moment.
Kicking off my shoes, I moved with quiet intention, each step bringing me closer to her.
Sliding into bed beside her, I felt the warmth radiating from her body and bare skin against hers, as the sheets rustled softly around us.
I leaned in close, my lips brushing against her delicate neck, planting a slow, tender kiss that ignited a rush of desire.
Naji stirred in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her lips, her breath catching momentarily.
I leaned even closer, my voice low and slightly slurred as I whispered against her skin, “Hold still.”
With gentle determination, my hand eased over her thigh, lifting it and positioning her just how I needed. Then I entered her slowly.
Naji gasped, not fully awake, but not resisting.
I closed my eyes as I sank deeper into her, every inch of her warmth dragging a groan from my throat.
“Damn,” I murmured.
I rocked into her like she was home, voice low and tender, but heavy with meaning.
“I’ll kill for your silence and burn this whole damn world down for your peace.”
Naji whimpered in her sleep, soft and instinctive. Her body responded to the sound of my voice… to the weight of my promise.
I slid deeper, moving with purpose— slow, hard, claiming —like I needed her to feel what I couldn’t say loud enough. Every stroke was a vow, and every breath between us was a boundary breaking.
Naji’s breath hitched, back arching ever so slightly beneath me, and I didn’t stop.
I took my time rolling my hips into hers with purpose. Naji’s name slipped out like a curse I couldn’t stop repeating. I devoured her slowly, like she was the only prayer I knew how to whisper.
“F-Fuck—Imanio—wait—” she moaned—loud, broken, already unraveling.
My voice dropped into a growl, dark and low. “Don’t tell me to stop now, Naji.”
“I’m not—I’m just—I can’t?—”
“Oh, you can ,” I growled, slamming into her harder, the bed jerking beneath us like it was trying to hold on. “And you will .”
I didn’t let up. I gave her everything—deep, brutal, deliberate.
“Take it,” I snarled. “Every fuckin’ inch. You feel that? That’s mine .”
Soon, the world outside ceased to matter—no noise, no past, no future. Just skin, breath, sweat, and that dangerous kind of love that makes men ruin kingdoms just to protect what's theirs. We were wrapped in it… and I wasn’t letting go.