Chapter 47 #2
Chiamaka hurried up the elegant stone steps.
Once she entered the foyer, her eyes darted around in awe at the opulence surrounding her—the polished marble floors gleaming under the sunlight, the gracefully curved staircase leading to the second floor, and the stunning chandelier cascading from the ceiling, each crystal catching the light and scattering it like rainbows.
When Chiamaka reached her room, her jaw dropped all over again.
The walls were a soft beige, adorned with delicate gold accents that added an air of sophistication.
At the center of the room, a plush king-sized bed beckoned, draped in sumptuous velvet pillows and covered by an inviting faux fur rug.
A mirrored vanity caught the light perfectly, hinting at the glamour of the space.
“I’m not dreaming? This is mine?”
“It’s yours,” I assured her, beaming with joy at her reaction. "Now let’s go officially meet my husband."
We made our way to the patio, where Imanio stood on a phone call, exuding a relaxed confidence. He was dressed casually in a fitted black t-shirt and slacks, yet his commanding presence filled the space.
Chiamaka hesitated, suddenly feeling shy as we approached him.
Once he noticed us, he quickly ended his call and gave us his undivided attention.
“Imanio,” I said softly, gesturing toward Chiamaka, “I’d l-like for you to officially meet my sister, Amaka.”
He stepped forward, extending his hand with a warm smile.
“Welcome. Whatever you need, we got you covered. You’re family now.”
Imanio wasn’t big on words—especially not with strangers. Well, unless he was angry. Honestly, I was shocked he even got out a full sentence without grunting.
Chiamaka took his hand, eyes wide. “Thank you.”
“I’ll introduce you to the s-staff tomorrow,” I added, squeezing her hand. “You’re gonna love Ms. Shirley—our chef. But I have to warn you—don’t ask her for too many sweets.”
Chiamaka shook her head in disbelief, a smile spreading across her face. “I can’t believe this is my life!” She twirled around again.
“Believe it,” I replied with a warm smile. “Welcome home.”
I flopped onto the bed with a soft thud, my limbs splayed out dramatically like a starfish. Moments later, Imanio emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped casually over his shoulder and a teasing glint in his eyes as he raised an eyebrow.
“That bad, huh?”
I rolled over onto my side and groaned, “What the h-hell did I just sign up for?”
He smirked. “Sisterhood.”
I let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Sounds like it could get e-expensive.”
With a gentle gesture, he came over and pressed a sweet kiss to my cheek. “I got you.”
I smiled. “I know.”
Once we were settled in bed, I shifted to face him, my thoughts racing.
“So… I was thinking.”
Imanio’s smirk widened, his eyes half-lidded in amusement.
“Here we go,” he said, as if anticipating the wild journey of my imagination.
Ignoring his playful jab, I began to tap my fingers nervously on his chest.
“W-what if I had my own car?”
He raised a brow. “You do… the eight outside located in the garage and the roundabout.”
“Those are yours," I protested, rolling my eyes dramatically. "And t-t-hey smell like your cologne and secrets,” I added, fighting a tic. “What if I had one that screamed me ?”
He chuckled low. “What does you scream like?”
“Soft pink. Butterfly doors. A twinkle in the paint job. Maybe… a glitter steering wheel.”
Imanio smirked. “A glitter steering wheel, Naji? Really?”
“Yup! And r-r-hinestone cup holders that sparkle in the sunlight, plus a trunk big enough to hide away all my dramatic overreactions,” I said, my imagination running wild.
My fingers twitched in midair—quick, repetitive flicks like I was casting invisible spells. My lips parted before I could stop it.
“ Pink makes the world safer! Glitter heals trauma! Don’t be a joy thief! ” I declared, eyes wide with exaggerated wisdom.
Imanio tilted his head, looking at me as if I had just spoken some ancient, mystical language.
“Did you just say—glitter heals trauma?”
“Not technically , but yes. Write it down! I want my c-car to look like Lisa Frank had a baby with luxury. I already picked the name. Princess Push-Start.”
Imanio burst out laughing. “You know what? I’m afraid… but I’m a lil’ intrigued.” He rested a hand on my thigh. “So you want a cute car, huh?”
I nodded eagerly.
“Fine. But it’s gon’ be bulletproof, trackable, and loud enough to scare any nigga thinking of stepping too close.”
I grinned. “So that’s a yes to Princess Push-Start?”
He sighed like I’d just pulled one over on him. “I hate how much I love yo’ pretty ass.”
“ Princess Power! ” I blurted with a dramatic clap and a tic that shot my arm sideways. “ Butterfly mode—engage! ”
I leaned in and kissed him—nastily, with too much tongue and way too much aggression.
“You’re the best!” I sang in a sugary voice, pulling back for just a moment before kissing him again.
He smirked back at me, cockiness radiating from him.
“Always welcome, baby. Just don’t put lashes on the headlights; that shit is ghetto as hell.”
“No promises,” I replied, already daydreaming about pink rims and glittery custom plates.