Chapter Five

RAYA

The moment I saw Johnny Gabino step into Sweet Cocktails, my heart plummeted to the floor. My hands trembled as I tried to pour a drink for a customer, the liquid sloshing over the edge of the glass. I muttered an apology, wiping the counter down with shaky hands, but my eyes kept darting back to him.

Johnny was the one person I never thought I'd see again, the one person I'd hoped I'd left behind for good. But there he was, leaning against the bar, looking at me with that same twisted grin he always had. He was taller than I remembered, leaner too, but the dangerous edge was still there, etched into every line of his face.

I felt sick to my stomach. All the memories came flooding back—the drugs, the nights I can barely remember, the way he used to control me, manipulate me, like I was his personal puppet. He'd promised me the world, but instead, he'd dragged me down into the depths of hell. And now, after all this time, after everything I'd done to get away from him, he was here, in the one place where I thought I was safe.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I needed to get out of there, needed to get away from him before he ruined everything. I mumbled something to Zayn about taking a break, not even waiting for his reply before I slipped out from behind the bar and headed for the back door.

The alley behind Sweet Cocktails was dimly lit, the shadows long and ominous. The air was thick with the smell of garbage and stale beer, but I didn't care. I just needed to get away, to catch my breath and figure out what the hell I was going to do. I leaned against the brick wall, my chest heaving as I tried to calm down, but it was no use. The panic was clawing at me, tightening its grip around my throat.

"Raya."

His voice was smooth, too smooth, and it sent a shiver down my spine. I looked up, and there he was, standing at the end of the alley, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket. He looked just as dangerous as he always had, his eyes glinting with something dark and sinister.

I forced myself to stand up straight, to face him head-on even though I wanted nothing more than to run. "What are you doing here, Johnny? How did you find me?"

He sauntered toward me, his grin widening to reveal a new gold-capped tooth as he closed the distance between us. "Wouldn't you like to know? It wasn't easy, but I'm glad I did. I've been looking for you, Princess. You didn't think you could just disappear, did you?"

My heart was racing, my mind spinning as I tried to figure out what to do. Johnny was dangerous, more dangerous than anyone else I'd ever known, and now he was here, in my life again, threatening to ruin everything. "What do you want, Johnny? Why are you here?"

He stopped a few feet away from me, his eyes raking over me in a way that made my skin crawl. "I want what you owe me, Raya. You think you can just walk away from everything we had? From everything I did for you?"

My blood ran cold. I knew exactly what he was talking about—things I'd done that I'd tried so hard to leave behind. If that got out, if Maxwell found out…I couldn't even think about what that would mean. It would destroy everything.

"I don't owe you anything," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but I could hear the tremor in it. "You ruined my life, Johnny. I'm done with you."

His grin faded, replaced by a sneer. "Ruined your life? I made you, Raya. You'd be nothing without me."

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "I'd be better off without you. I am better off without you."

He took another step closer, crowding me against the wall. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from my face, and I flinched at the touch, disgust curling in my stomach. "Is that what you think? You think you're better off? You think you can just run away and start over, like none of it ever happened?"

I stared at him, refusing to let the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes fall. "I did start over, Johnny. You're not part of my life anymore."

His hand moved to my throat, not squeezing, but the threat was there. I could feel his breath on my skin, and it took everything in me not to shrink away. "You're never going to be free of me, Raya. You belong to me, and I'm here to collect."

My heart pounded in my chest, my pulse racing as his words sank in. "What do you want from me?"

He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Money, Raya. You're going to give me money, or I'll make sure everyone knows exactly who you are and what you've done."

My blood ran cold. I knew exactly what he was talking about—the drugs, the prostitution, everything I'd tried so hard to leave behind.

"I don't have any money," I said, my voice shaking despite my efforts to stay calm.

"You'll find it," he hissed, his hand tightening on my throat just enough to make me gasp. "You'll bring it to me tomorrow night. There's a motel on Fifth, room 212. Be there at six with the cash, or I'll blow your whole new life to hell. Remember you're nothing but a whore deep down, Princess, and that's all you'll ever be."

He stepped back, releasing me, and I nearly collapsed against the wall. He gave me one last look, a twisted grin on his face, before turning and walking away, leaving me shaking in the alley.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, trying to get my breathing under control, trying to process what had just happened. I couldn't believe Johnny had found me, couldn't believe he was here, threatening to destroy everything I'd built. But I knew Johnny well enough to know he wasn't bluffing. If I didn't do what he said, he'd go straight to the press, and my past would be splashed across every headline.

I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let Maxwell find out. I didn't know what was happening between us, but I felt as though I wanted to hide it, protect it like the delicate bud of a flower, until I could see which way it grew.

The thought of Maxwell sent a fresh wave of panic through me. What if Johnny was already planning something? What if he was watching me, waiting for the perfect moment to strike? I couldn't just sit back and let him take everything from me again. I had to do something. I had to find a way to protect myself.

My mind raced as I considered my options. I couldn't go to the police—not with my record. And I definitely couldn't tell Maxwell. That would only make things worse. The only person who might be able to help was Burt Stamford.

I didn't trust Burt, not really. He was using me just as much as Johnny had, and I knew that. But right now, he was my only shot at getting out of this mess. He had connections, resources. Maybe he could help me deal with Johnny, make him go away for good.

With a deep breath, I straightened up and headed back inside. I couldn't afford to lose my cool, not here, not now. I had to keep it together until I could figure out my next move.

The rest of my shift passed in a blur, my mind elsewhere as I went through the motions of serving drinks and pretending everything was fine. But inside, I was falling apart, the weight of Johnny's threats pressing down on me like a vise.

As soon as I was off, I texted Burt and got the thumbs-up to pay him a visit at his temporary worksite. After receiving the address, I made a beeline for my car, my heart pounding as I fumbled with my keys. I needed to talk to Burt, needed to tell him about Maxwell's secret office, about everything I'd seen. Maybe if I could prove to him that I was still valuable, that I was still useful, he'd help me with Johnny. Maybe he'd protect me. And then I could figure out what to do about Maxwell after that.

The drive to the nondescript building where Burt's temporary office was located felt like it took forever. My hands were shaking as I parked and made my way inside, my mind racing with a million different thoughts. What if Burt couldn't help me? What if he turned me away? I didn't know what I would do then. I was running out of options, running out of time.

When I finally reached the suite, I knocked on the door, trying to steady my breathing. A moment later, the door swung open, and the smooth-talking agent stood there, looking as calm and composed as ever.

"Raya," he said, his voice low and measured. "Come in."

I stepped inside, feeling the chill of the sterile, windowless room. Burt's makeshift desk was cluttered with papers and folders. An open laptop sat on top, its screensaver displaying colorful bubbles that floated across a black background as though a child had just blown them from a fairy wand. He gestured for me to sit, and I did, my nerves on edge.

"What brings you here tonight?" he asked, settling into his chair and leaning back, his sharp eyes studying me.

"I found something," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "In Maxwell's estate. A secret office. There were documents, photos, all kinds of things. I couldn't get pictures, but I saw it all."

Burt's eyes narrowed, a flicker of interest passing over his face, and he scratched the stubble on his chin. "A secret office, you say? Interesting. Tell me more."

I hesitated, trying to remember everything I'd seen. "There were files, documents with names and numbers. It looked like some kind of ledger. There were photos too—of people, places. I couldn't make sense of all of it, to tell you the truth."

Burt leaned forward, his fingers steepled in front of him. "And you didn't get any camera shots?"

"No," I admitted, shame creeping into my voice. "I didn't have my phone with me."

Burt studied me for a long moment, and I could feel his disappointment, even though he didn't say anything. Finally, he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "You did well, Raya. Very well. This is valuable information. We'll look into it."

Relief flooded through me, but it was short-lived. I still had to deal with Johnny, and I didn't know how to bring it up to Burt without sounding desperate.

"Burt," I began, my voice hesitant. "There's something else. Something personal."

He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "My ex-boyfriend, Johnny Gabino, he found me. He showed up at Sweet Cocktails tonight. He's threatening to go to the press, to expose my past unless I give him money."

Burt's expression hardened, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind. "Johnny's in town? That wasn't part of the deal."

I gasped. "What deal? Wait, was he the one who told you about me?"

Burt glanced away briefly before meeting my eyes again. "I had to know who you were to make sure you'd cooperate with our mission. But showing up was against the rules."

I nodded, my throat tight. "I don't know what to do. I can't let him ruin everything I've worked for. I can't let him go to the press."

Burt was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered my words. Finally, he nodded. "I'll see what I can do. But remember, Raya, Maxwell is no fool, and neither is Johnny. You need to be careful. Very careful."

I nodded, the weight of his words settling over me like a heavy blanket. I knew he was right. I was in way over my head, and if I wasn't careful, I was going to drown.

"I understand," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Burt leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. "Good. Now go home, get some rest. We'll deal with Johnny, and we'll keep an eye on Maxwell. But you need to stay focused, Raya. Don't let your emotions get the better of you."

I nodded again, feeling a mix of relief and dread. I was grateful for the FBI agent's help, but I knew that this was far from over. Johnny was still out there, lurking, and Maxwell…Maxwell was a whole other problem. One I was no longer sure I could handle.

***

The next morning, I woke up with a heavy sense of dread, knowing I had to face the reality of what had happened the night before. I'd hardly slept, my mind racing with thoughts of Johnny, Burt, and Maxwell.

I forced myself to get out of bed, dragging my feet as I made my way to the bathroom. I turned on the TV in my bedroom, hoping the background noise would distract me from my thoughts. But as I was brushing my teeth, something on the news caught my attention.

"...a fatal accident on Highway 13 late last night. Authorities say a vehicle drove off a cliff into a ravine, the driver pronounced dead on impact. The victim has been identified as John Gabino from Texas…"

The toothbrush slipped from my hand, clattering into the sink as I stared at the screen in shock. My heart was pounding in my chest, my mind struggling to process what I'd just heard.

Johnny was dead.

The man who had terrorized me for years, who had shown up in my life out of nowhere, threatening me…was gone. Just like that.

My initial reaction was relief—pure, unadulterated relief that I wouldn't have to deal with him anymore, that he couldn't hurt me or destroy my new life. But that relief was quickly followed by something else, something darker and more confusing.

Burt had promised me he would handle Johnny, and now Johnny was dead. Had Burt done something? Had he and the FBI arranged the accident to get rid of him? Or had he acted alone, without the FBI's involvement? The thought made my stomach turn. I didn't want to believe it, but I also didn't know how far he was willing to go, how much he was willing to risk to protect me—or to protect his own interests.

As I stood there, staring at the news report, I realized that the lines between good and bad, right and wrong, were starting to blur. I wasn't sure which side I was on anymore, or if there even was a side. All I knew was that I was in way over my head, and the only thing I could do was try to keep my head above water for as long as possible.

I barely heard Trina come out of her room. Her eyes flicked from the TV screen to my face, her brow furrowing in concern. "What, did you know that guy?"

The knot in my chest tightened, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't even have the strength to nod. I just whispered, "Yes."

My voice broke, and the tears I'd been holding back spilled over. Before I could stop myself, I was sobbing, hands trembling as I tried to wrap my head around everything. "I've gotten in too deep, Trina. I don't know what to do. I don't know who to trust."

Trina's eyes widened, and in an instant, she was by my side, wrapping me in a tight hug. "Talk to me, Raya. What the hell is going on?"

I felt her warmth, her concern, but it just made me feel guiltier. I pulled back enough to look at her, my vision blurry with tears. "That was Johnny," I choked out.

Trina gasped, her blue eyes going wide with shock. "You mean the guy who took advantage of you back in Texas? The one who claimed he was your boyfriend but then got you hooked on drugs and started pimping you out?"

I nodded, the memories flooding back—Johnny's sly smile, his promises, the way he made me believe I was special before dragging me down into a pit of darkness. "Yeah…He showed up at the bar and threatened me, Tri. And now he's dead."

Trina's face paled. "And you don't think it was an accident?"

I shook my head slowly, trying to make sense of the chaos swirling in my mind. Taking a deep breath, I forced the words out. "There's something I haven't told you…Remember that night at the bar when the man in the dark suit started chatting me up? He's an FBI agent. He's blackmailing me to spy on Maxwell Evans."

Trina's jaw dropped. "What? Maxwell Evans? That's the guy you were out with the other night?"

"Yes…I was trespassing on his property to get the raspberries for my cocktails, but I didn't know it at the time. And Burt…" I could barely say his name without feeling a pang of dread. "Burt did his homework. He found out about my past and used it against me."

Trina was staring at me like I'd just confessed to murder. "I knew there was something going on. You usually let me know where you're going, who you're gonna be with at night if you're not working."

I bit my lip, feeling the weight of my lies crushing me. "Yes."

Trina's voice softened, but there was a hard edge to it. "Have you found anything suspicious?"

I hesitated. What had I really found? Some photos of armed men, documents I didn't understand…Nothing concrete, nothing that screamed Maxwell was involved in anything illegal. "I'm not sure," I admitted. "But he's been so kind to me, Trina. Even gentle. I don't want to believe anything bad about him. I think…I think he's got a past he's trying to leave behind just like I am."

Trina studied me for a moment, her expression softening. "Oh, Raya…You're falling for him, aren't you?"

"I don't know," I whispered. But the truth was, I did know. I could feel it in the way my heart fluttered every time I thought of Maxwell, the way his touch lingered on my skin long after we'd parted. But how could I admit that when I didn't even know if I could trust him?

Trina sighed, pulling me over to the couch to have a seat. "So tell me more about him. What exactly does the FBI think he's into?"

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to sort through the tangled mess of my thoughts. "Maybe cartels, drugs…I'm not sure. I know that Maxwell runs an agricultural export business, but…"

"But what?" Trina pressed.

I shook my head, feeling more confused than ever. "I don't know. I don't know if Maxwell or maybe even Burt had something to do with Johnny…"

Suddenly, it hit me. Trina had been there, at the bar, the nights both Burt and Johnny showed up. Did she know more than she was letting on? Had I said too much?

Trina's face darkened as she watched me, and I realized I'd been silent too long. "Raya," she said quietly, "I'm your best friend, for god's sake. You can't possibly think I had something do with your ex getting offed? I thought you knew me better than that."

"Trina, I…"

But she didn't let me finish. She stood up, shaking her mass of blonde curls. "You know what? Just forget it." And with that, she turned and stormed back into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

I sat there, stunned, the silence ringing in my ears. The guilt gnawed at me, but I couldn't let it consume me. I had to keep going. I had to find out the truth.

With a heavy heart, I got up and walked back to my room. It was Wednesday, and I knew I'd see Maxwell at Sweet Cocktails tonight. I needed to see him. I needed to figure out where I stood before this whole thing consumed me.

***

The drive to the bar felt longer than usual, my mind racing with everything that had happened. Johnny's death, Trina's anger, the photos I'd found in Maxwell's hidden room. I was falling for him, I couldn't deny that, but I was also terrified. The photos I discovered in his office—they frightened me. Some of them showed armed men. Was that normal for exporters? Maybe that type of security was necessary for moving large quantities of goods across international borders? Or could he really be working with the cartels, like Burt suggested?

And now Johnny was dead. My head was spinning, and I realized that unless I chose who to place my trust in, my own life could be at stake.

As I walked into the VIP area at Sweet Cocktails, I tried to steady my nerves. The lights were dim, the music soft, but the tension inside me was almost unbearable. I had to keep it together. I had to face Maxwell, look into those dark eyes of his, and figure out what the hell was really going on.

When he walked in at the appointed hour with his entourage, he caught my eye and smiled, looking as sexy and composed as ever. But tonight, I wasn't just here to serve him a drink. I was here to get answers, no matter what it took.