Page 52 of Invisible Bars
“I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you,” Imanio voiced softly, brushing a strand of hair off my face.
I nodded sleepily.
Before he exited the room, I cautiously asked, “Imanio, can… can you go back to my room at Blu’s and g-g-get my teddy bear?”
My right hand twitched as I said it—fingers curling then flicking outward like I was tossing something invisible away.
He reared his head back a little, brows pinched in confusion. “Teddy bear?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, sheepishly but firm. “It-it has my grandmother’s voice recording in it. It was given to me after she passed. I keep it close when I’m anxious or scared. I need it with me… especially right now.”
Imanio’s face softened. For a split second, that dangerous edge he carried everywhere dulled around the edges.
He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll get it.”
“Oh, and… and my phone. I left it too.”
He cocked his head. “Nah. Now you pushing it.”
That little glimmer of hope I had almost vanished until he said, “I’ll think about it.”
“T-Thank you,” I whispered, sinking deeper into the bed, but one last question itched at the edge of my mind.
My neck gave a slight jerk, and I whistled low, involuntarily.
“One more thing. H-how do you… know my name?”
Imanio, already halfway to the door, paused.
“I saw your photos in your room that night.”
“Oh. O-okay.”
With his hand on the light switch, he gave a small nod and concluded, “Get you some rest.”
I nodded, biting my lip, trying to suppress another twitch.
Imanio flipped the switch, cloaking the room in a warm shadow, and pulled the door just enough to leave it cracked. A sliver of hallway light filtered in—but not much. The blackout blinds drawn tight over the windows ensured no sunlight would sneak in. The room felt sealed, protected… like a quiet cave made just for sleeping. It was the first time I didn’t feel fully exposed.
As I snuggled into the bed, the soft sheets kissed my skin—cool and freshly laundered, smelling faintly of lavender and something expensive. The comforter, heavy and plush, hugged my frame like it had been waiting for me to surrenderandrest. And for the first time in damn near three days… I did. Sleep finally came—deep, overdue, and silent.
Honestly? I was grateful Imanio had the chef slip something in my drink. He probably should’ve hit me with a tranquilizer at that point, because I’d been running on fumes and nerve endings. Whatever they gave me—Ambien, Melatonin, billionaire-grade NyQuil—I didn’t care; it worked.
Chapter Nine
IMANIO “GATEZ”
“Ms. Shirley, I’m about to head out,” I informed her, adjusting the cuffs on my sleeves as I stepped into the foyer.
“Okay! You look nice! But I thought you weren’t going into the office today?”
“I’m not. I just have a few errands to run.”
I didn’t need a boardroom to play power—just daylight. As long as the sun was up and it was the weekday, I had to move like Imanio Kors: respected, untouchable, and dressed in control.
“Gotcha.” She nodded with understanding. “Do you need me to keep an eye on the girl?”
“Nah.” I held up my phone with the live feed already pulled up. “I’ve got eyes on everything. I’m always watching. But I appreciate you, though.”
