Chapter 2 —Demyon
The black SUV pulled up outside the campus library, a massive structure with a stone facade 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.
Her eyes turned dreamy for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. She cleared her throat and pointed me in the right direction without speaking a word.
I nodded once. “Thank you.”
Her gaze still followed me as I walked away from the counter, maintaining the same pace as before. I rounded a corner down another aisle, and that’s when I spotted her: the one girl who’d caught my attention since I set foot on this campus.
Her chestnut brown hair fell in effortless waves to her mid-back as she strolled down the aisle, her eyes scanning the bookshelves. There was something about her that pulled me in—something I couldn’t quite explain.
I watched her from the adjacent aisle, eyebrows raised, as she sipped what looked like an espresso. Her delicate fingers traced the edges of the books meticulously arranged on the shelf.
As I drew closer, I realized she was standing in the psychology section, and the book I was looking for was right in front of her. She paused in her tracks, tucking her hair behind her ear, her gaze wandering the bookshelf.
At this point, I couldn’t risk it because she just might be searching for the same book as me. Of every book on that shelf, what were the odds that she was going for the same one as me?
I wasn’t going to take that chance.
By the time I got to her, she’d already reached out and grabbed the spine of the exact book I’d come for. However, before she could pull it out, my hand shot out and firmly held it.
I could swear I heard her breath hitch, and when my hand grazed hers, I felt something spark inside me. It felt like time itself slowed when she turned her head to look at me.
Her large, stormy blue eyes met mine in an instant, spreading a strange warmth across my body. In a split second, I drank in the details of her oblong face—the gentle curve of her lush lips, the freckles dusting her pointed nose, her porcelain skin and trimmed eyebrows.
“Uh…I need that for my paper,” she said, her voice sweet like butter.
The scent of her perfume drifted into my nostrils, leaving me numb and intoxicated. This girl had me hooked–literally—because I couldn’t tear my gaze from her. Those large blue eyes bored into mine, stirring strange emotions in me.
For a second there, I almost forgot about my mission, even though I didn’t let go of the book. Unafraid, she looked right at me, exuding an air of confidence and control. I couldn’t find my voice, and it appeared my brain had abandoned me.
Even when she said she was here first, in an attempt to make me let go, I stayed silent. Not because I chose to be a dickhead, but because, for the first time in a long time, I was speechless. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, yet I couldn’t help but be fascinated by her.
While I was still struggling to find my voice, she yanked the book out of my hand. Her brows furrowed, forming creases between them, and her expression turned ugly.
“This is a library. Not a gladiator arena.”
Her words, tinged with disdain, left me stunned, especially when she glared at me for a moment before walking away. I raised my brows, watching her leave with the book I came all the way here for.
I hadn’t yet processed what just happened—the way she dismissed me as if I were a nobody, her unusual defiance, and the weird tension she left behind. My eyes lingered on her even after she took a seat at a nearby table.
I combed my fingers through my hair and dematerialized from her sight. The next time she’d lift her head, I wouldn’t be in the spot where she left me.
It would be easy to exercise my authority and force her to hand over the book. But this was a library. I couldn’t risk drawing unwanted attention to myself. So I found a spot by a hidden window where I could discreetly keep an eye on her.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, an incoming call from my lieutenant. I answered.
“Boss. Is everything all right?” he asked on the other line. “Do you need me to come in?”
“No. I’m handling it.”
He hesitated. “All right.”
I ended the call.
By the time my gaze darted back to the girl, she was already picking up a small brown paper that had slipped out of the book. My eyes narrowed as I watched her head tilt slightly as she stared at the paper, probably puzzled by its contents.
She didn’t understand what she was holding, but the danger was as real as the laptop on her table.
Julius Perry and his associates had been passing locations and names hidden in chess notation, with moves disguising coordinates for weapons shipments.
Oblivious to the horrors behind that paper, she slipped it back into the book and continued studying.
I waited for about an hour, watching her from a safe distance. The plan was to retrieve the paper once she returned the book to the shelf. However, things took a different turn when she packed her things and inserted them into her backpack. Including the book.
She rose to her feet, slung the backpack over her shoulder, and walked away. I watched her bid the portly woman behind the counter goodbye, then head out of the library.
I shook my head and rose to my feet, rubbing my eyes with my fingers. This young lady had no idea what she was carrying in her backpack; she was unaware of the storm circling around her.
Quietly, I followed her out of the building, keeping a safe distance. She’d just stepped into a world she knew nothing about, and nothing could’ve prepared her for the horrors to come.