MAFIA'S WRONG TARGET

34: THE SUBTLE PROTECTION

SYBIL'S POV

Kingland,
04:37 am

His eyes were so intense that I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to look away… or never look away at all.

I didn’t even realize I was staring at him until I noticed the small piece of plastic still resting between his fingers.

“Here you are,” a voice startled me, snapping me out of my trance. I turned to see that guy standing beside me with a food trolley.

“Where did you disappear?” he asked, but didn’t wait for my reply. His gaze instantly dropped to the packet of chips in my hand, and his expression froze.

“You… stole that?” He looked genuinely shocked.

I quickly shook my head. “He gave it to me,” I said truthfully, pointing a finger downstairs where Hunter was.

“Chief?” His jaw nearly hit the floor. The shock on his face was so real. I couldn’t blame him — I, too, expected a bullet to my head… but instead, I got snacks.

“And that shirt?” He raised a brow, his tone sharp.

I glanced down at the oversized shirt I was wearing, biting my lip.

“You have a death wish, don’t you?” he hissed under his breath, scanning the hallway nervously as if expecting someone to be watching.

Before I could respond, he muttered in a low, urgent tone, “Get back to your room.”

I nodded silently and headed toward my room while he followed behind with the food trolley.

“What time do you even sleep?” I asked softly, noticing how fresh he looked despite being awake the entire night.

“I work the night shift,” he replied calmly. “I’ll be gone by five in the morning and back by seven in the evening.”

"No one lives here in this mansion besides us? His family or any other people besides your staff?" I asked looking around at all the closed doors we were passing by.

"There are some you wouldn't wish to see. And no, no family." We stopped at my door. I reached for the handle before he could and pushed it open, holding it slightly ajar so he could bring the trolley in.

He wheeled it inside, parked it neatly against the wall, and stepped back without crossing the threshold.

I realized then that he probably wasn’t allowed to enter the room.

“But don’t worry,” he added, his tone gentler now. “There’ll be lady maids during the day if you need anything.”

I gave him a small nod. “Thank you,” I said, almost adding his name at the end — only to realize I didn’t know it.

“Kevin,” he said suddenly.

I blinked, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“That’s my name.” He smiled faintly, as though he’d read my thoughts. No wonder he's hired by Hunter.

“I thought you were Russian?” The question slipped before I could stop myself. I really shouldn’t have been asking about anyone’s personal details.

“Half Russian, half Egyptian,” he replied in thick Russian accent.

I nodded again, returning a small smile.

“Good night,” he said, bowing slightly with his palm over his chest before walking away down the corridor.

I sighed watching him disappear before my gaze landed on the chips as they were still in my hands, a silent reminder of the encounter I just had with him downstairs.