Page 17 of Forbidden Fruit

But he just smiled again, that cold, heartless smile that made my blood run cold.

“You should have stayed out of it, Raya,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “But now, you’re going to pay the price.”

Chapter Eight

MAXWELL

I paced the length of my office, the phone still clenched in my hand, its cold surface groundingme in the reality of the situation. Raya was in danger—serious danger. I could feel it in my bones. Burt's death wasn’t just a random act of violence, but a deliberate move in a game where the stakes were far higher than either of us could have imagined. And now Raya was caught in the middle of it.

Burt was small-time compared to whoever was really pulling the strings. The kind of people Burt had to answer to didn’t care about legalities or FBI protocols—they cared about power, control, and maintaining their dominance by any means necessary. Raya might not have even realized what she’d gotten herself into. She might not have known what she’d discovered, or why it was so important, but that didn’t matter to them. All that mattered was that she was close—too close—and they’d stop at nothing to silence her if they thought she was a threat.

I leaned against the edge of my desk, trying to piece it all together. There had to be something linking us all—Johnny, Burt, Raya, and me. Something we all had in common. The connections were murky, entangled in a web of deceit and hidden motives, but there was one common thread I couldn’t ignore: Sweet Cocktails. The bar was the place where our lives had intersected, where things had started to spiral out of control.

And then it hit me—Zayn Cole. Raya had mentioned she had a meeting with the owner. The realization sent a jolt of fear through me, and I felt the blood drain from my face. Zayn had always been too slick, too confident, always a little too comfortable in his position at the bar. I’d never liked him, but I hadn’t thought he was capable of something like this. Now, though, I wasn’t so sure. If Zayn was involved, then Raya’s life was in immediate danger.

I couldn’t waste any more time. I had to get to her before it was too late.

The drive to Sweet Cocktails passed in a blur. The city lights streaked past me in a haze as I pushed the car to its limits, my mind racing with every possible scenario that could be unfolding inside the bar. I replayed our last conversation over and over again in my head, trying to pick up on anything I might have missed, anything that could give me an edge when I confronted Zayn.

I had never felt so helpless, the thought of Raya in danger eating away at me like acid. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel as I sped through the city, my only focus on getting to her in time. The bar loomed ahead, a beacon of neon lights, and I could already feel the tension coiling in my muscles as I pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine on my Lamborghini. The air felt heavy, oppressive. I could sense the danger lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to strike.

I pushed through the front door, my pulse echoing in my ears as I scanned the place for any sign of Raya.

And then I saw her.

She was standing near the back of the bar, her body tense, her eyes wide with fear. Zayn was close, too close, with a gun in his hand. The sight of that weapon aimed at Raya sent a cold, deadly fury coursing through me, my vision narrowing as I locked onto Zayn. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready to spring into action, but I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my emotions in check.

“Maxwell,” Zayn said, his voice smooth and taunting as he acknowledged my presence. He smirked, as if he’d been expecting me all along. “Right on time.”

I took a step forward, my gaze locked on Zayn, every instinct screaming at me to tear him apart. But I couldn’t afford to lose control, not with Raya’s life on the line. I needed to be smart, strategic, and not let my anger cloud my judgment. “Let her go, Zayn,” I said, my voice calm, controlled, despite the rage simmering just beneath the surface.

Zayn’s smirk widened, his grip on the gun tightening. “Oh, I don’t think so. You see, Raya here has been quite useful. She’s gotten me closer to you than anyone else has been able to.”

Raya’s eyes darted to me, filled with a mixture of fear and guilt. “Maxwell...I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“It’s not your fault,” I said, my gaze never leaving Zayn. “This isn’t on you, Raya.”

Zayn chuckled, shaking his head as if the whole situation amused him. “Isn’t it, though? She was so easy to manipulate. All I had to do was push a few buttons, and she was right where I wanted her.”

My blood boiled, but I forced myself to keep my emotions in check. “You’re a coward, Zayn. Hiding behind a gun, using people like pawns. It’s pathetic.”

Zayn’s expression darkened, the smirk fading as he stepped closer to Raya, pressing the barrel of the gun against her side. “You don’t get it, do you, Maxwell? This is bigger than you. You’re just a piece in a much larger game. But you’ve always known that, haven’t you? You, of all people, should understand what it means to be caught in the web of something you can’t control.”

Raya’s gaze flickered between us, confusion and fear etched on her face. “Maxwell, what is he talking about?”

I took a deep breath, knowing that this was the moment when I had to lay everything out, to reveal the truth I’d been keeping from her. “Raya, there’s something you need to know about me. I come from a cartel family overseas. My father was a brutal man—killings, kidnappings, atrocities committed in the name of power and money. When I found out what he was capable of, I wanted no part of it. I cooperated with international authorities who helped me relocate to the U.S. in exchange for what I knew about my father, and I assumed a new identity. I was able to put my business acumen to use in the agricultural export industry where I now run several companies. But that’s not all. I work closely with my network and the authorities to track and catch sex traffickers who capitalizing on our shipping routes for their own nefarious operations.”

Raya’s eyes widened in shock, her breath catching in her throat. “You…you’re not involved with the cartels?”

“No, I’m not,” I said, my voice firm, wanting her to understand the gravity of the situation. “But Zayn is.”

The bar owner laughed again, the sound cold and devoid of any warmth. “Burt was a fool. He thought he could play both sides, but in the end, he was just another pawn. I paid him to get information on Maxwell’s contacts and routes for the cartels. But when Johnny showed up, things got complicated. I couldn’t risk him screwing up my plan to use you, Raya. And when Burt wanted out, well…I couldn’t let that happen.”

The room seemed to close in on us, the tension thickening with every passing second. My eyes never left Zayn, my mind racing as I tried to figure out how to get Raya out of this alive. The anger inside me boiled over, but I kept my voice steady, controlled. “This ends now, Zayn.”

Zayn raised the gun, aiming it directly at me. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

But Raya was faster. With a swift, desperate kick, she knocked the gun out of Zayn’s hand. It clattered to the floor, the metallic sound echoing through the bar as I lunged at him. We crashed to the ground, fists flying as we grappled for control.

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