Page 76 of Devil In A Suit

Sometimes, I wonder if he’s thinking about me while he’s out, dealing with whatever new attack has come up against him. He never expected or planned for any of this to come down on him. At first, I felt somewhat bitter and robbed that it all kicked off during our time together, but now I’m glad. If I was not here he would have to go through this ordeal alone and I would never wish that on anyone let alone him.

Then one night he left the bed at two in the morning. I get up a few minutes later and follow him to his office. I find him sitting in front of six computer screens.

“Whatcha doing?” I ask from the door.

“Taking some scalps to pay the bills,” he says.

My eyes widen. “What?”

He leans back against his black leather chair. “Scalping is slang for when a trader goes into the marketplace, takes a trade and is out quickly, before the trade can turn against him.”

“I thought you couldn’t trade anymore. Your accounts at the exchanges were frozen.”

“An old friend from Cambridge set up an account in his name for me. I use a VPN to hide my location and I only scalp because I have studied Robert’s trading record and I adhere strictly to his risk appetite and loss rate. So no placing big trades that could raise red flags. The last thing I want to do is to get him in trouble.”

“Can I see what you’re doing?”

He smiles. “Sure. Come in and sit on my lap.”

I go and sit on his lap and watch quietly while he works.

“This is the Bitcoin chart. A very volatile asset. Fantastic for scalping,” he explains.

There are numbers blinking everywhere and his fingers move at lightning speed chasing a pulsating dot on a one-second screen. “Wow, how can you know the exact movement when it is about to change direction?”

“The market is like a woman,” he says. “To persuade her to dance with you have to learn how she moves and move with her. Then she will embrace you and give you riches you never dreamed of.”

I turn to look at him in the blue light from the screen. “You’re special, you know. Really special.”

He smiles. “So are you.”

“No, I really mean that. I’m just an ordinary person. You’re not. You’re truly exceptional. I never said that to you before and no matter what happens always remember, you’re extraordinary.”

“That’s it for tonight,” he says, clicking the red sell button on his screen and lifting me into his arms. “Now it’s time for you to see just how extraordinary you are.”

Then one night, everything shifts.

He doesn’t come home for dinner. I eat alone and go to bed, certain he will return soon, but I fall asleep alone and wake up, groggy and disoriented, reaching out for him instinctively. But the bed beside me is cold and empty. My heart stumbles in my chest as I sit up, glancing at the clock. It’s well past midnight. Where is he?

Panic prickles at the edges of my mind, but I push it down, forcing myself to stay calm. I get out of bed and wrap my robe around me as I walk toward the window. There is a full moon in the sky and the city is alive and buzzing with bright lights.

Where could he be?

The anxiety bubbling in my chest tightens, and I need to move, to do something, anything, to clear my head. I need something to calm me down. Perhaps a swim in the pool. I get into my bikini and leave my room. I decide to go through the kitchen but stop in my tracks when I see Muriel sitting at the island. She is pouring tea from a blue and white flowery porcelain teapot into a cup with a matching pattern. She’s not usually up this late, and the sight of her in the kitchen feels oddly out of place.

“You’re up late,” I say, my voice gentle, not prying but curious.

“Yes. I couldn’t sleep. I thought a cup of chamomile tea would do the trick.”

I shift from one foot to another. “Ivan isn’t back. You wouldn’t by any chance know where he is, would you?”

Muriel sets her cup down. “No, I was worried when he didn’t come back for dinner too.”

I pause, surprised. It’s not like Muriel to talk about Ivan like this. She’s always professional, and I never expected her to express concern for his whereabouts.

“You were worried?” I ask, unsure of how else to respond.

Muriel’s mouth quirks downwards. “We all are, Lara, I’ve worked for him for years, and I’ve never seen him like this. But I’m glad you’re here, especially now.”

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