Again, this man didn’t say anything, but this time, his lips curved into a small grin.
Quietly, I walked away, deliberately refusing to quicken my pace even though I felt his gaze lingering on me. I found a table nearby and settled in, pretending not to notice he was still staring.
I brought out my laptop and forced myself to keep my focus on the screen. The clock was ticking, and I couldn’t afford a distraction right now—not even from a hot, mysterious man.
Chapter 2 —Demyon
The black SUV pulled up outside the campus library, a massive structure with a stone façade and floor-to-ceiling windows. I sat in the backseat of my car, fumbling with my cufflinks as I gazed at the building looming before me.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Boss?” Ilya asked, stealing a glance at me through the rearview mirror. “I don’t mind going there to get the job done.”
“Sit this one out,” I replied, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. “I’ll take care of it myself.”
Ilya Yakov had always been my most trusted lieutenant—loyal and faithful to the end. The man had taken a bullet for me more times than I could count, proving his undying devotion to the Bratva cause.
Usually, I let him handle situations like this, and he’d never let me down—not even once. But this time, I chose to get directly involved and soil my hands if it came to it. Perhaps for me, being out here in the field was a way to kill my boredom, a reminder of the thrill and adrenaline rush that came with it.
It was Ilya’s job to keep me safe at all times, hence the reason for his reluctance. I appreciated his concern; however, with or without my men around, I was more than capable of handling myself. This wasn’t my first rodeo, and it wasn’t going to be the last.
I just wanted to pass the time by getting actively involved in the operation. Besides, it was nothing serious—just a quick grab, and I’d be out of there.
Some asshole named Julius Perry had been using innocuous university books to pass coded messages to his associates. According to information reaching me, this particular library on this campus held yet another one of his secret codes.
The plan was to go in there, find the book, intercept the message, and get out. We already knew exactly what the book looked like and where to find it. So, this should be easy.
“Remember,” Ilya began, glancing over his shoulder. “Psychology section.The Physics of Emotions: Attachment and Abandonment.”
That’s the book I was supposed to look out for.
Julius Perry was up to something nasty, and that’s why he chose to go through all this trouble to make sure his messages were coded. If I didn’t intercept it on time, that son of a bitch and his associates would literally unleash hell on the city.
I was no hero, and so I couldn’t care less if the whole city burned to ashes. I was only interested in this for my own selfish reasons. If those nitwits weren’t stopped, their actions would destroy the alliances the Bratva had spent years building.
That would be bad for business, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I pushed the car door open and stepped out into the sun, the afternoon breeze brushing against my face. Surrounded by gullible students who still believed the outside world would be fair to them when they graduated, I was reminded of my time in college.
Things were a lot different back then—easier—even though we didn’t have half the technology these kids are exposed to nowadays. A few students drifted past me in small groups, chatting half-heartedly with books and iced coffees in their hands.
I scanned the surroundings, drinking in the campus, my gaze sharp and calculating. My eyes drifted to the library doors, glass glinting in the sunlight. Somewhere in there was a book I was looking for—and I wasn’t leaving here without it.
As I strolled up the long steps at the entrance, the three skinny girls descending the steps giggled at me. The black-haired one looked me right in the eyes with a flirtatious grin on her face. The others, a blonde and a redhead, lowered their heads to mask their flushed cheeks.
The audacious girl winked at me while the other two rallied behind her, too shy to look at my face. Uninterested, my expression remained blank as I ignored them, ruling their behavior as childish and nothing worth my time.
“My God, he’s not!” the blonde whispered to the redhead, and they giggled again.
I walked toward the door and stepped inside, enveloped in the chandelier’s warm glow and the serene atmosphere. My shoes scuffed quietly against the floor as my eyes scanned the interior while I strolled between towering bookshelves with casual strides.
Students sat at different tables, focused on their laptop screens and the open textbooks beside them.
I approached the counter across from me with a hand buried in my pocket. “Excuse me.”
The woman I assumed was the librarian looked up at me, wearing a curt smile. She was portly, with butterscotch hair framing her oval face. If I had to guess her age, I’d say she was in her late forties or early fifties.
Her green eyes crinkled behind her wire-rimmed glasses, her expression softening by the second.
“Can you direct me to the psychology section, please?” I asked, my voice husky and polite.
