The Capo & the Curator (DARK HEARTS MAFIA #2) by C.L. Cruz EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: C.L. Cruz
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Evelyn
There’s something magical about the library after hours.
The soft hush that settles in, the warm glow of my desk lamp like a
beacon in the dimming twilight. It’s just me and the manuscripts, full of
stories waiting to be unearthed.
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I let my fingers trail across the delicate parchment, tracing the faded ink
with reverence. This particular text is a real beauty—a fifteenth-century
manuscript detailing the secret rites of a Renaissance society. Every page is
a work of art, ornate calligraphy intertwined with rich illustrations. I can
practically feel the weight of its history beneath my touch.
With a contented sigh, I lean closer, scrutinizing the intricate details.
Cross-referencing with the other documents sprawled across my desk, I
start piecing together the puzzle. Codes, ciphers, symbols—this is where I
thrive, untangling the intricacies of the past like a complex riddle.
A soft chuckle escapes my lips as I decipher a particularly clever play on
words, the scribe’s wit shining through centuries later.
“Clever,” I murmur in admiration, making a quick notation in my everpresent journal.
The library may be my second home, but moments like these truly make
me feel alive. I’m not just a curator but an explorer, an interpreter of
histories long forgotten. With each decoded message, each revelation
unearthed, I forge a connection to those who walked before us, giving them
a voice once more.
My eyes flit to the ornate clock on the wall, its ticking the only sound in
the tranquil space. Already past seven. No wonder the library has grown so
peaceful. Most of my colleagues have likely gone home for the evening,
their desks tidied and research tucked away until morning.
Not me, though. I live for nights like this, when the distractions fade
away and I can fully immerse myself in the work. My fingers itch to
unravel the next layer of the mystery, peeling back the veil on centuries-old
secrets.
A soft thud from the corridor outside makes me start, my heart skipping a
beat before a familiar voice calls out.
“Burning the midnight oil again, I see.” Maggie Sinclair, my ever-chipper
assistant, sweeps into the room with a teasing grin.
I shoot her a mock glare, unable to hide my own smile. “As if you’re one
to talk. I’m surprised you haven’t set up a cot in the archives room at this
point.”
She laughs, waving a dismissive hand. “Fair point. But at least I know
when to call it a night, unlike some workaholic curators I could mention.”
Huffing out a sigh, I lean back in my chair, absently tucking a stray lock
of hair behind my ear. “You know there’s still so much to sort through
before next week’s exhibit opening. I can’t afford to leave anything
unfinished.”
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