CHAPTER 29
SLOANE
The library clock reads four fifteen. Cooper is late, which isn't like him. Almost military punctuality is one of his trademarks, like his perpetual gray suit and that expression of permanent disapproval he seems to have perfected over years of federal service.
I chose the UNLV law library with care. It's a public but discreet place, with enough secluded corners to hold a private conversation. I managed to convince Sergei and Yuri to wait for me in the main lobby while I "picked up some books for a paper." One more lie to add to the endless list.
From my position between the shelves of federal case law, I can see the entrance without being easily visible.
The smell of old paper and book leather transports me briefly to a life that seems to belong to someone else.
A life where my biggest worry was finishing an essay on time, not cutting ties with a federal agency while falling in love with the man I was supposed to be investigating.
Finally, I see him. Daniel Cooper, forty-something, six feet of professional efficiency encased in a suit that would make an accountant yawn. The man I was supposed to report to. The man I'm about to betray.
He moves with that particular confidence of someone who knows they're backed by the power of the government, scanning the library until he locates me.
As he approaches, I mentally rehearse what I'm going to say for the umpteenth time.
I need to be clear, direct, but not provocative.
I don't want to become an enemy of the FBI.
I just want out. Out cleanly, and maybe, just maybe, have a chance with Dimitri.
Dimitri... who has no idea where I am right now. Who would think I'm a traitor if he knew. And maybe I am.
"Murphy," Cooper greets with a low murmur, appropriate for a library. "This is unexpected."
His tone is neutral, but his eyes scan me with the intensity of a laser.
"Thanks for coming," I reply, hating the slight tremor in my voice. "I needed to talk to you in person."
Cooper takes a seat across from me at the small study table, placing his briefcase carefully to the side. There's no coffee to offer here, only the growing tension between us.
"Your reports have been... irregular lately," he comments. "I expected a more complete update on the Morozov operations."
I take a deep breath, the air heavy with the smell of old books and surface disinfectant. It's now or never.
"There aren't going to be any more reports, Cooper," I say finally, my voice steadier than I expected. "I came to tell you I'm withdrawing from the operation. As of right now."
His expression doesn't change, but something cold slides into his eyes, like a snake beneath the surface of a pond.
"That's not an option," he replies calmly. "Not for an FBI informant."
"I'm just a civilian collaborating voluntarily. And now I'm withdrawing that collaboration."
Cooper leans forward, subtly invading my personal space.
"What have they promised you, Murphy?" he asks quietly. "Money? Power? Or is it something more personal?"
Heat rises up my neck to my cheeks. My reaction seems to confirm his suspicions.
"Morozov," he says, not as a question but as an accusation. "The little brother. Dimitri."
The sound of his name on Cooper's lips sends an involuntary shiver through me. It's as if he's contaminating something pure just by pronouncing it.
"This has nothing to do with him," I lie, knowing I'm transparent. "I've simply decided I don't want to continue."
Cooper lets out a dry laugh, devoid of humor.
"They've brainwashed you," he declares, his voice hardening. "Just like Harper Keller. It seems the Morozov brothers have a special talent for transforming intelligent women into obedient pets."
Anger explodes in my chest, hot and sudden like liquid fire.
"Don't disrespect me," I warn, leaning toward him. "My decision is mine. And Harper isn't any pet. She's exactly where she wants to be."
"And you too?" he counters. "In the arms of a mobster? A killer? Do you know how much blood your Russian lover has on his hands?"
The words hit me with the force of a physical punch. Because yes, I know. I've seen the cells. I've heard stories. I've witnessed the violence firsthand. And even so...
"My answer is still no," I reply, starting to stand up. "Consider this my formal resignation."
Cooper's hand closes around my wrist with surprising force, stopping me from leaving. His fingers press right over the still-visible mark from the kidnapper's zip ties, awakening a sharp pain.
"It doesn't work that way, Murphy." He hisses, his professional facade crumbling. "You can't just decide one day that you don't want to be part of the team anymore. You know too much. You've seen too much of how we operate and that we're after them."
Fear slides down my spine like ice water. This isn't going as I'd planned. The pressure on my wrist increases.
"You're hurting me," I say, trying to free my arm without causing a scene. "Let me go, Cooper."
"You will go back to doing your job," he insists, ignoring my request. "Or I'll have to inform my superiors that our collaborator has become a security risk. Do you know what that means?"
I know. It would mean the end of any chance of a normal life.
"I believe the lady asked you to let her go."
A voice, low and dangerous like a predator's growl, cuts the air between us. My eyes widen, panic rising up my throat like bile.
Dimitri.
He has appeared and is now standing next to our table, his physical presence dominating the space as if the entire library had shrunk to contain him.
He's dressed entirely in black: impeccable suit, shirt with no tie, the collar open revealing the start of his tattoos.
His face is a perfect mask of calm, but his eyes.
.. His eyes are two shards of arctic ice burning with controlled fury.
"This is a private conversation," Cooper replies, not letting go of my wrist. "I suggest you leave."
A slow, predatory smile curves Dimitri's lips. It's the smile of a man who has calculated exactly how many moves he needs to end his opponent.
"I'm not going anywhere without her," he declares, his Russian accent thicker than usual, a sign I've learned to recognize as imminent danger.
Cooper finally releases me, but only so he can better face Dimitri. Blood returns painfully to my hand, a tingling I ignore as I watch, horrified, as two worlds that never should have met collide in front of me.
"Do you know who I am?" Cooper asks, subtly pulling out his FBI ID.
Dimitri doesn't even bother looking at it.
"Daniel Cooper. Special Agent, Organized Crime Unit, Nevada," he recites with calculated boredom. "Divorced twice, a son you barely see... Shall I continue?"
The color drains from Cooper's face. I feel the air become too thick to breathe myself. How much does Dimitri know? Since when?
"You're interfering in a federal operation," Cooper warns, but the confidence has left his voice.
Dimitri takes a step closer, his body now completely between Cooper and me. It's a protective gesture that, despite the circumstances, makes something warm expand in my chest.
"And you are threatening my woman," Dimitri replies, his voice dropping to a register that sends shivers down my spine.
"So let me be very clear, Agent Cooper. If you get close to her again, if you even look at her from a distance, if you mention her name in any report or conversation, your family will have to identify what's left of you in photographs. "
The silence that follows is absolute, as if the whole library were holding its breath. In the distance, the soft murmur of turning pages and clicking computer keys seems to come from another world, one where conversations like this don't exist.
"Is that a threat?" Cooper asks, though it's obvious he already knows the answer.
"It's a promise," Dimitri replies with terrifying calm. "And we Morozovs always keep our promises."
Cooper stands up slowly, gathering his briefcase. His eyes drift to me, a mix of disappointment and something darker swimming in them.
"Consider your agreement with the FBI officially terminated, Murphy," he says, every word loaded with disdain. "And remember, when your Russian boyfriend gets tired of you, you won't have anywhere to return to. You just picked a side, and it isn't the law's."
He turns to leave, but Dimitri stops him with a hand on his shoulder. The grip looks casual, but I can see Dimitri's fingers digging into the cheap suit.
"One last thing," he murmurs, only loud enough for us to hear. "If you're ever tempted to send anyone else after her, remember that she now has the full protection of the Morozov Bratva. And we aren't known for our mercy."
Cooper shakes off Dimitri's hand as if it burned him, casting one last venomous look before disappearing between the shelves. The whisper of his hurried footsteps fades gradually, leaving behind an oppressive silence.
And then we're alone, Dimitri and I, surrounded by dusty books but isolated in our own bubble of tension and revealed secrets.
I turn slowly to face him, my heart beating so hard I'm sure he can hear it. His face is unreadable, but his eyes... God, his eyes are loaded with so many emotions I can't decipher them all. Anger, disappointment, possessiveness, and something deeper I don't dare to name.
"Dimitri," I start, his name a trembling sigh on my lips. "I can explain. I was going to..."
He raises a hand, cutting off my words. The gesture is soft but definitive.
"At home," he says simply. "We'll talk at home."
Home. As if we shared one. As if that possibility still existed after what he just found out. The weight of that simple word hits me harder than any accusation could have.
I feel the ground open up beneath my feet. All the security I'd built, the hope of fixing things before he discovered the truth... everything crumbles like a house of cards.
Dimitri extends his hand toward me, a gesture that might seem like an offer but I know is a command in disguise. He's giving me the option to follow him willingly, but we both know there isn't really a choice.
And yet, when I place my hand in his, I don't feel coercion. I feel relief. Because despite everything, despite the lies and betrayals, there is a truth I can no longer deny even to myself:
I love this man. With all his darkness, with all his danger. I love him.
And that terrifies me more than any threat Cooper could have made.
Dimitri says nothing else as he guides me out of the library, his hand firm on the small of my back. Sergei and Yuri are waiting for us in the lobby, their faces impassive but their eyes alert, assessing the situation. With a minimal gesture, Dimitri signals them to follow at a distance.
As we get into the car, I feel the weight of the inevitable settle over my shoulders. There's no turning back. Not after this. The road to the casino stretches before us like an uncertain future, full of unanswered questions and truths to confront.
And I, for the first time in my life, have no idea what comes next.