Ahmir
The jet cut through clouds like a scalpel through silk. I shed the jacket, rolled sleeves to the elbow, and let the engine’s hum settle into bone. My phone pulsed with reports I’d usually devour in one pass. I ignored them. My head was still at her house.
Not the signature—that was inevitable. Systems go live; levers pull; outcomes follow. I have watched hundreds of hands sign my terms. None trembled like hers and still managed to look like a coronation. It wasn't the victory I felt, it was an alignment.
I told myself I went for business: stabilize Legendary, extract inefficiencies, give a queen a throne with a guardrail. That’s the story you write on paper. The truth? She resists order while aching for it. Most people collapse under pressure. Imani rebuilds herself mid-fall and
