A frown placed itself on my lips as I watched the officer scan the documents before me. His hazel eyes widened, skimming over Gavlik's business conquests from all across the globe. Just the thought of him boiled my blood into steam.

I had never tried to make business deals that I didn't need. Most of my business was strictly in America and not open to many foreign investors, which was an act I was criticized heavily for. Running business solely on greed destroyed the moral compass that Allah had given humans.

Greed stripped people of light, veiling them under the illusion of success. Greed hunted the vulnerable, encasing them into its sharp talons. Greed blinded the educated, forcing every day of their lives to be dedicated to crushing all enemies like a soldier before battle.

Businessmen and women were trapped in a cycle of depression from the fruitless taste of life because they didn't have a family. If I hadn't been raised with family ideals, I would have been the same.

I would have never found Tasneem if I was like Jared Gavlik.

After brief moments of silence, Malik dropped the stack of papers down on my desk. We sat in my study while our wives were in the living room below. My eyes shifted to the papers on my desk, a look of weary crossing Malik's visage. He pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly stressed.

"This guy's a nightmare," he muttered under his breath.

"I assume that you realize why I need your help."

Malik nodded, leaning back in his seat. "Including major textile corporations from Germany and India was a smart move on his part. Saudi Arabian oil industries do raise some suspicion, but unless I have proof of his 'malice,' I can't make an arrest," he said, sending me an apologetic smile, "I'm afraid there's not much for me to do."

Grinding my teeth against each other, my fury burned through my veins, muscles tensing. The pulsing in my brain escalated within a short amount of time, a heavy ache filling the void of disappointment. The results belied my expectations, betrayal running through my veins. The situation was a never-ending maze, and I was a fool to believe otherwise.

"Ibrahim-" Malik started when he noticed my ambivalent expression.

"So this is it? I'm supposed to just let this Russian to bankrupt me through legal fees and there's no guarantee of a victory? I'm supposed to let him take everything away from me?" I questioned, angrier by the second.

Malik stayed silent.

I furiously shook my head, abruptly standing. "I won't. I don't care how long it takes, but I am not letting my business go. I am not letting all these people go into unemployment. I am not going to make my family suffer because of someone else's reckless actions. Gavlik is not winning this fight," I hissed.

A slow smile spread across his lips, a hint of mischief in Malik's hazel eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. The sudden complacent expression took me off guard. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

What is he playing at?

"You're a true leader, Ibrahim," grinned Malik, brushing his brown curls off his forehead. "Even in the face of defeat, you fight even harder for everyone under your care whether they be your employees or your family. That's something that Jared will never understand."

Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair. "What do I do from here?" I asked.

"There's only one thing you can do."

"Which is?"

"You need to prove that Jared has malicious intentions. The files I gave you are a brief criminal history. Since he's not American, I don't have too many records on him," said Malik, "but there's some sketchy business history."

My interest heightened. "Explain," I demanded.

"In Russia, Jared Gavlik is known to be hostile and aggressive even when he was a child. He got arrested a couple of times for drunk fights at clubs and was in numerous court cases since he took over his father's business," stated Malik as he picked up the papers, showing me the records. I leaned closer while he spoke. "As a belligerent adult, he forced other textile businesses into bankruptcy by burying them under legal fees and boycotts. It's not hard to believe that he might play dirty to get what he wants."

"Funny how Thomas said the exact same thing."

Malik sent me a pointed look. "Given the current business atmosphere, I wouldn't be surprised if Jared tried to frame you."

"Frame me?" I chuckled darkly. "I'd like to see him try."

"Ibrahim-"

"People have said a lot about me, accused me of many crimes, refused to associate with me, but that's never stopped me," I said, picking up my phone to text Thomas. "I need Gavlik's number. We're settling this like civil adults."

Malik scoffed. "I think you need another adult for that."

Rolling my eyes, I ignored Malik's comment. Even as the head of the police department, Malik tended to be a playful officer when life and death wasn't on the line. I knew that he had an outstanding officer history, where no case would be left unsolved in Malik's hands. He had every resource at his disposal and every type of ally he needed to bring justice.

I paced behind my chair, pondering the maze of Gavlik's mind. "So far he's been pretty silent since our last meeting. He left Tasneem with a warning, but said nothing more," I reiterated.

"Did you talk to your lawyers about this?"

Nodding, I leaned against my desk, arms crossed over my chest. "They said I need proof of malice and have to wait until Gavlik tries something."

We sat silently, allowing the heavy weight of disdain drag down our shoulders. It was impossible to prove malice in an American court. The judges required specific evidence and confessions that someone had ill intentions. If only they could see behind Gavlik's charismatic aura and into the depths of a devil's eyes.

Gavlik played games with business, a game of who had greater strengths, a game of who had the popular brand, a game of who had dignity to lose. He watched major German and Indian businessmen lose everything that they worked their whole lives for fall towards destruction into another's hands. He watched them lose everything just for the sake of greed.

"I should get going." Malik stood up, his body heading towards the door. He grasped the handle, turning it, before he paused. "I'm sorry I wasn't more help to you," he whispered, "but I know that by Allah's will you will get the justice that you crave for. Don't worry too much, Ibrahim."

"Thank you."

With a nod of farewell, Malik shut the door.

I sighed, my fingers tangling themselves in my hair. The world spun around me, voices sprung through my mind, the echoes of hatred raced through my thoughts. America hated me. Although the country was the land of opportunities, the people despised me. A cloud of darkness loomed over my body, sharp pain clawing at my skull, and my vision only saw taunting shadows.

Allah, I prayed, please guide me. Show me what to do. Show me where to go.

I glanced at the photo of my parents on my desk, their beaming smiles captured for eternity, their memory a blissful peace. Picking up the frame, I wondered how life could have been different if they were alive, how I wouldn't feel so alone, how my father could have taken the business.

Would they be proud of the man I became? Would they smile and encourage me?

Knock Knock.

"Come in."

My enchanting wife walked into the room, her attire modest, and a hijab wrapped around her head. Loose clothes always outlined her curves, her alluring figure was amplified with only the subtle movements of her hips. Tasneem shut the door behind her, walking towards me with a nervous smile that took my breath away.

Suddenly the dulling ache in my chest begged for comfort, begged for her. As if reading my thoughts, Tasneem ran into my open arms, holding me close to her soft body, and molding us together.

"Are you alright?" she asked, pulling back to look into my eyes.

Her brown eyes warmed through the ice that had previously inflicted me, a toasty treat to eyes that were haunted by my own demons.

Every time she blessed me with her gentle gaze, all coherent thoughts left, and I was defenseless against her love. No amount of armor could protect me from Tasneem's comfort as she infiltrated my body, mind, and soul.

"Do you want an honest answer?"

"Yes."

"No, I'm not okay," I whispered as our foreheads touched, my hands falling to her waist. "Gavlik is out to destroy me."

"Well, he can't," she fiercely denied, "because my Ibrahim doesn't give up like that."

Her faith in my skills had me at loss for words. After every obstacle that threatened to distance us, she stayed by my side, after every attempt to push her away, she came back. She was the woman who seemed too surreal to exist, too perfect for me.

Without warning, I brought my lips down to hers, capturing her small gasp. Wrapping her arms around my neck, Tasneem pulled me closer, lips moving slowly against my own, electrifying me. The drumming in my chest caused a heat to surge between us, the world disappearing, and leaving us all alone in bliss.

Through the kiss, I poured out every frustration I had, every insecurity that inked across my body, every fear that haunted my mind, and I found myself needing her more than ever. I found myself holding Tasneem to me as if she would disappear into thin air.

I don't want to lose you.

I don't want him to force you away.

Malik's words echoed like a bouncing ball in my head, his words thundering against my skull, "I wouldn't be surprised if Jared tried to frame you."

My grip tightened against Tasneem's waist. Sensing my unease, Tasneem detached our lips, pulling back to take a breath. She gazed up at me, lips red and swollen, her hijab wrinkling. Breathing heavily, I tried to ignore all the doubts.

I tore my gaze away from her. "Gavlik might ruin me, Tasneem."

"W-What?" she questioned, shocked.

"I don't know what he's going to do, but I know that he will do anything for my business. Considering the threat he gave you and his history, I think he's going to tarnish my name," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. The media spotlight would be on our family. The intensity of such a future would surely tear Tasneem apart. "I don't want you to go through all that. I don't want you to be in the spot-"

She placed a finger to my lips, hushing me. "Ibrahim," she started softly, "I don't care what he says about you."

"But it would make getting a job for you even harder. I don't want to put you through that."

Tasneem placed a hand on my cheek, cradling it gently in her palm. "That's okay," she smiled, "I can always get another job."

Leaning into her touch, I placed my hand on top of hers, interlocking our fingers and keeping her hand on my cheek. The soothing sensation of my wife comforting my worries was unlike any I'd ever felt. Being in love felt weightless like I was on clouds, far from reality.

I was intoxicated by her.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, staring deep into her eyes. My lips trembled. "You deserve so much better than all this drama, but I swear to Allah that I will do everything that I can to protect you and Bashir from this madness."

"Did the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) abandon Aisha when people slandered against her?" she suddenly asked.

I shook my head.

"So I won't either. Just like our beloved Prophet, I know who I married. I know the type of man that you are," she whispered. "And I'm not ashamed of it at all. I'm proud to call myself your wife."

No words were needed to secure our moment together. With Tasneem in my arms, it felt as though I was unstoppable. Although tremors of a forsaken future ate at my sanity, I knew that nothing else mattered as long as my family stuck by my side. No words or accusations that others said could shatter my confidence.

Gavlik couldn't taint a love that was blessed by Allah, a marriage that strengthened every night, and a family that was firm in their faith. We were unstoppable.