The Crown And Her Shadows

chapter 36

"Fadeelah, you need to let the family know what happened to their son. It's not fair to them."

Halima’s voice was firm, cutting through Iman’s already frayed nerves. She held the phone to her ear, her other hand gripping the wheel tightly.

Iman sighed, heavy and unsure.

"Stop sighing. If you don’t tell them, I will," Halima snapped, then hung up without waiting for a response.

Iman sat at the red light, her fingers drumming restlessly on the steering wheel. The city buzzed around her, cars honking and street vendors yelling in the background, but all she could hear was her own breathing shaky and uneven.

Halima had been on her neck for the past month. Telling Ayman’s family about his death was the one thing Iman had managed to avoid, and it haunted her every day. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready for the grief in their eyes… or the accusations.

And now, as if life wasn’t already draining enough, she had to chase Nassim for a silly PPA slip. He had "forgotten" to drop it for her. Typical. Their relationship had been stuck in a cold, tense limbo ever since everything happened. Nassim tried he really did but Iman wasn’t done punishing him. Maybe because deep down, she was still punishing herself too.

She pulled into Maitama and parked in the public lot, intentionally avoiding the underground space reserved for family and executives. She wasn't in the mood to explain anything to anyone.

Her outfit was simple yet striking a deep green and navy adire dress with short bell sleeves, paired with a soft gele tied lazily at the back, letting her thick ponytail spill down. The gold in her earrings glinted under the sunlight. Her dark green Oran  leather sandals clicked sharply against the polished marble floor as she entered the building.

She didn’t glance at the stylish décor or the curious stares. Her eyes locked on the receptionist.

"Hi. How you doing? I’m here to see the CEO," she said, voice flat and bored.

The receptionist blinked, startled. "Do you have an appointment with him?"

Iman let out a short, sarcastic laugh and hissed under her breath. "I don’t have time for this."

Without another word, she turned on her heels and walked straight to the elevator guarded by a uniformed officer. She gave him a tight-lipped smile and hit the button, her heel tapping an impatient rhythm on the floor.

Five minutes passed.

"Is this thing not working?" she asked dryly, side-eying the officer.

He didn’t flinch. "No, ma. You’ll have to take the stairs."

"Well, thank you so much for nothing," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Turning around, she spotted a larger, sleeker elevator tucked away near the corner of the lobby one she hadn’t noticed before. Of course. That’s his, she thought. She strode toward it with purpose and pressed the button.

The elevator doors opened instantly.

"Sorry, ma. That one’s for private use only!" the receptionist called out in alarm.

Iman stepped inside, cool as ever, and just before the doors closed, she casually stuck out her hand and gave the receptionist a slow, deliberate middle finger.

The ride was smooth and silent.

She pressed the top floor the number Nassim had texted her and leaned back, arms folded, refusing to let herself feel anything.

When the doors opened, she was greeted by Adil, two security guards, and a wave of tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

She blinked at the scene, unbothered. "Really?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

Adil looked like he was on the verge of a migraine, massaging his temples in slow circles. "Why would you call me for this?" he muttered to one of the guards.

"That’s his wife, you bastards." The words came out as a hiss, barely above a whisper, but laced with fury. He didn’t wait for a response just turned and stormed off down the hall, muttering curses under his breath.

Iman rolled her eyes and brushed past the dumbfounded security team like they were furniture, her footsteps echoing confidently in the quiet corridor. She wasn’t here to play nice.

She just wanted her damn slip.

And maybe just maybe to figure out how to face the ghosts that wouldn’t stop following her.

Iman stepped into the office, not bothering to knock. Nassim was perched on the edge of his desk, flipping through a file. He looked up briefly.

"My slip," she said bluntly, skipping all formalities.

He didn’t miss a beat.

"My darling wife, how are you? How’s the baby? You look radiant. I’m doing fine, thank you for asking," he replied, his voice soaked in sarcasm, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, standing there with her arms folded across her chest. Yes, she was pregnant she had found out a month ago after her visit back home she is four months in, but that didn’t mean she was in the mood for small talk.

"Ina wuni," she muttered.

"Lafiya," he responded sweetly, giving her an innocent smile.

"Wai, you’re still angry?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

She didn’t answer. He exhaled through his nose, stood up, and walked over to the door. With a click, he locked it.

"We’re not leaving this office until you stop being mad at me."

He turned to her, arms crossed now, the air between them taut.
"So tell me are you still upset about what I said in Katsina, or did I offend you in some other way?"

She shook her head slowly. "It’s not that."

"Then what is it, azizim?" he asked, softly but firmly.

A silence settled in the room, stretching uncomfortably until she finally spoke.

"I wanted to make you feel what I felt."

He didn’t interrupt, only nodded, urging her to go on.

"When you shut me out… it nearly killed me. It’s still eating me up. But I thought… at least, for once, you should feel it too." She exhaled deeply, eyes fixed on the floor.

He studied her, amused yet empathetic.
In his mind, he sighed: Oh Iman… when will you grow up?

But instead of saying that, he stepped closer and pulled her into a gentle hug. She stiffened for a moment habitual defense but then melted into him, breathing in his familiar scent.

"I’m sorry," he whispered into her hair.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s silence. Then he leaned back slightly.

"So… how’s our baby boy doing?"

She pulled away with a raised brow. "Wai, who told you it’s a boy sef?"

He shrugged confidently. "I just know."

"Hmm," she hummed, a hint of a smile teasing her lips.

"The slip, please. I’m tired. I want to go home and sleep."

"Ah, the same person that was shouting 'I want to work, I want to work'?" he teased, handing her the envelope.

She snatched it with a roll of her eyes. "I will work. Just… not today."

He chuckled. "We cool now?"

She opened the door and glanced over her shoulder, mimicking him.
"Yeah, we cool."

Then she walked out, leaving behind the tension and a little piece of her stubborn pride.

******
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Short Chapter buckle up cause shit is about to go down 😜😜💅

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