My forbidden sweet fruit

MAYA’s POV“I still can’t believe you’re doing this,” Sophia said, amusement dancing in her tiny voice.As she sat on my bed, bouncing her legs on the floor, like she’s the one nervous for an interview, watching me dig through my closet for something presentable.“Believe me, neither can I,” I muttered, holding up a plain blouse and frowning at the wrinkles. “A housekeeping job, Soph. Me. Housekeeping. I spent four years in college just to—”“You spent four years in college so you can survive moments like this,” she cut me off gently, then smiled. “And so you can pay rent.”I groaned but couldn’t help laughing a little. “You’re right. The pay is really good. Like… suspiciously good. Who pays this much for a housekeeper?”Sophia giggled, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “Maybe it’s a celebrity’s house. Or a rich CEO. Or someone who’s secretly building an evil lair.”I shot her a look and shook my head. “You’re not helping.”“You should at least tell Camila to come wi

Maya’s POVAs I got back to my apartment, all I wanted was to crawl under my blanket and hide for a week. Or more.Instead, I dropped my bag by the door and stood there in the quiet room, staring at nothing.So that was it.No call back. No “we’ll think about it.” Just a cold, sharp “I don’t want her.”I pressed my lips together and let out a humorless laugh. “Well, good,” I said, talking to no one. “I didn’t want to clean his stupid mansion anyway.”It wasn’t true, of course and I knew it. But it was easier to pretend.The pay had been good — God, it was good — and I had been holding onto that tiny thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, this job could make my life easier.But now… I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or humiliated.I walked further in and sank onto the edge of my bed and buried my face in my hands.The image of him was still burned into my mind, it took a second for me to place is face — He was taller than I remembered. Broader and more masculine. His presence still intim

Maya’s POVI walked toward the club with my bag heavy on my shoulder. The neon sign glowing ahead, streams of people who wanted music, laughter, escape or whatever they came here for — already rushing in.But my steps slowed down when I spotted a car the car valet was trying to park well at the parking lot.It was a sleek, black Bentley, looking fucking luxurious. It looked exactly like the one I’d noticed outside the house when Xavier chased me out of their house the day I had the interview. It wasn’t there when I arrived there that day but it was there when I was leaving in shame.My chest squeezed for a moment.No. It can’t be.I shook the thought off quickly. Rich people loved their toys, probably half of Beverly Hills owned something like this.I walked in straight to the staff room, some staffs had left their lockers opened, mirrors were dotted with lipstick stains and fingerprints, and few whose shift is about to start bustled around in tiny outfits, adjusting straps and checkin

MAYA’s POVI didn’t even realize I was being pulled away until my feet started moving.His fingers closed around my wrist, firm but not rough, and suddenly I wasn’t standing in the room anymore. The noise, the lights, the eyes on me—it all blurred as he guided me through the space. No one tried to stop him. They just moved aside like he owned the place.I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.I clutched my other hand to my chest, half-walking, half-stumbling as he dragged me out the back door. He didn’t stop until we were fully outside, away from the noise. The cool night air slapped against my skin, and that was when it hit me.I didn’t even get the chance to pick anything. My bag. My jacket. My dignity—somewhere behind us, probably still lying on the sticky floor.I was still in the uniform. The short black dress barely passed as clothing. How did I not fall in this damn heels?Oh God.I instinctively checked my pocket with my free hand, panic spiking, and nearly cried whe

Xavier's pov“Anything else?” she asked, eyes on me, not the table.I shook my head once. “We’re good.”The waitress hesitated, then smiled wider before walking away, hips swinging like it was part of the job.Mockingbird by Eminem played softly in the background at the bar.Soft yellow lights washed over polished wood and leather seats. Josh sat across from me, one elbow on the table, fingers wrapped around a glass of Macallan 18. Same as mine. The bottle sat between us, already half empty. I hadn’t noticed when the waitress poured the last round. She was good at that.Josh snorted. “You really don’t see it, do you?”“See what?”“That every woman in this place thinks she’s the one that’ll thaw you out.”I took a slow sip of my drink. Burned just right. “They’ll survive.”Josh shook his head, then his expression shifted, turning more serious. “So,” he said, lowering his voice a little, “are you going to tell me what that was the other night?”I didn’t look at him. “It was nothing.”J