3rd person POV
3rd person POV
Max stood outside the airport, the cold Zurich air sharp against his skin as he watched the private jet disappear into the sky. His father was safe, on his way home with Ray, but Max couldn’t shake the weight pressing on his chest. This wasn’t over. Not yet. He turned away, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat as he walked towards the waiting car. It was a simple rental, nothing flashy, nothing that would draw attention. He climbed in, his mind already working through his next steps. Stanford Hayes thought he had won. He had set a trap, lured Max into it, and still lost. But a man like Stanford wouldn’t run. He was too arrogant, too convinced of his own power. No, he would try again. And this time, Max intended to make sure there was no escape.
Driving through Zurich, Max kept his eyes on the road, but his mind was elsewhere. He had spent years building his own empire, learning to outthink his enemies before they even saw him coming. Stanford was powerful, but Max had something he didn’t-control. He had the patience to wait, to strike when the time was right. He didn’t need to rush. He just needed to be smart. As he pulled into an underground parking lot, he checked his phone. A single message from an unknown number: He’s still here. Same place. But not for long.
Max exhaled slowly. His contact inside Stanford’s circle had confirmed what he already suspected. Stanford was still at the estate, but he was preparing to leave. Max had to move now. He climbed out of the car, locking it behind him before making his way through the dimly lit garage. A few blocks away, in a small, discreet apartment, another ally was waiting. He knocked twice, and the door opened just enough for a pair of sharp eyes to meet his. Then, it swung open fully, revealing Luca, a man Max had worked with before-an expert in making problems disappear.
Luca stepped aside, letting Max enter before locking the door behind him. The apartment was sparsely furnished, maps and notes scattered across the table. Luca didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Stanford’s planning to leave Zurich within the next twelve hours,” he said, crossing his arms. “He’s keeping his security tight, but there’s a gap. He’s got a meeting with someone important tonight, one of his last before he disappears.” Max studied the map laid out in front of him. “Where?” Luca tapped a location near the city center. “An exclusive club. Private, high-end, very selective.” Max’s jaw tightened. “Then we make sure he doesn’t leave that meeting.”
Luca smirked. “I like how you think.”
Max spent the next hour going over the details. Stanford’s security team would be watching every entrance, but Max had no intention of walking through the front door. They planned, adjusting for contingencies, mapping out escape routes. Then, finally, it was time.
________
Night fell graduy as Max stood outside the club, blending in with the well-dressed crowd. The building was grand, its entrance guarded by men in tailored suits with earpieces. Inside, music played, laughter filled the air, and deals were being made over expensive whiskey. But Max wasn’t interested in any of that. He moved through the space, unnoticed, his eyes scanning for Stanford.
Then, he saw him.
Stanford Hayes sat in a private booth at the back, speaking to a man Max didn’t recognize. His expression was calm, controlled, but Max knew better. Stanford was running out of options, and he knew it. Max edged closer, staying in the shadows. Luca had taken care of the security cameras, giving Max the freedom to move without being tracked. He waited, biding his time, until finally, Stanford’s companion stood, shaking hands before walking away.
That was Max’s moment.
He stepped forward, sliding into the booth opposite Stanford before the man could react.
Stanford tensed, but only for a moment. Then, he leaned back, a smirk playing at his lips. “Maxwell,” he drawled. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”
Max met his gaze, unflinching. “Cut the act, Stanford.”
Stanford chuckled, swirling the drink in his glass. “Did I? Your father is free, sure. But this isn’t over.”
Max leaned in slightly, his voice low. “You’re right. It’s not. Because I’m not leaving Zurich until I bury what’s left of your influence.”
Stanford’s smirk faltered just a fraction, but he recovered quickly. “You think you can just erase me? I’ve built something far bigger than you realize.”
Max tilted his head. “And yet, here you are. Hiding in clubs, making desperate deals. Doesn’t look so big from where I’m sitting.”
Stanford’s fingers tightened around his glass. “Careful, Maxwell. You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Max exhaled, slow and controlled. “No, Stanford. You are.” He slid a folded piece of paper across the table. “That’s everything. Every dirty deal, every offshore account, every name tied to you. In twenty-four hours, it goes public.”
Stanford’s smirk disappeared entirely. He unfolded the paper, scanning the contents, and for the first time, Max saw it-the crack in his confidence.
“You’re bluffing,” Stanford muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.
Max leaned back. “Try me.”
Silence stretched between them. Then, Stanford let out a slow breath. “What do you want?”
Max’s expression didn’t change. “You disappear. For good. No deals, no revenge, no second chances.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Because if I ever see your name in the same sentence as mine again, I’ll make sure you lose more than just your business.”
Stanford’s jaw clenched. He knew there was no way out of this. Finally, he nodded, just once. “Fine.”
Max stood, adjusting his cufflinks. “Good choice.” Then, without another word, he walked away, leaving Stanford alone in the dimly lit booth.
Outside, the air was crisp, fresh, a stark contrast to the weight Max had just lifted off his shoulders. He took out his phone, sending a single message: It’s done.
Luca’s response came instantly. I’ll make sure he leaves quietly.
Max slid the phone back into his pocket, inhaling deeply. This chapter was closed.
Now, he could go home.
Now, he could see Vivian.
And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to think of something other than war.
He thought of her.
And he knew-he was finally ready to go back.