Page 77 of Devil In A Suit

Her words take a moment to sink in. I’d never thought about how Ivan’s staff might feel about what’s going on.

“Who’s ‘we all’?” I ask, the curiosity pushing me to dig a little deeper.

“The staff,” she says with a small shrug. “Everyone who works for him. It’s not just that we’ve seen the news, but we all talk. We all care about him and we can all see he’s under pressure.”

There’s a pause as I let her words settle in. I hadn’t considered that Ivan’s staff might actually be concerned, that they’d notice when things were not right.

“We’ve been talking about how we can help. If it comes to it, we’re willing to pitch in however we can financially.”

I blink with shock. “Financially?” It feels strange to even suggest that they would want to support him like that. Most people will have no idea of how they can be of use like how I was, or make vague offers to help, but financially? To offer your own hard-earned money… that’s real commitment.

“You are surprised because you don’t know our history with him. He’s helped us all over the years. Some of the staff have even talked about remortgaging their homes if necessary. He helped them buy those homes in the first place. It’s not justabout loyalty—it’s about giving back to someone who’s always been there when we needed him.”

I lean against the counter as her words settle in. “I didn’t know any of that,” I admit quietly. “Ivan never talks about helping people. It’s almost like he’s kept this part of himself hidden from me.”

Muriel smiles softly. “Ivan isn’t one to boast. He does things quietly, and most of the time, people don’t even realize it. We are spread about in all his properties. His chefs, his chauffeurs, his gardeners, his butler in England, his staff in Russia—there are so many of us that he’s been so generous with over the years. Do you know he bought me a cottage with a garden? It’s meant to be a place for me to retire when I’m too old to work. It’s in Devon by the sea. Well, I don’t need it. Let him have it. He can sell it or mortgage it or whatever. Living here with all my bills paid for, I have saved quite a bit. Let him have that too. He’s not alone in this.”

My eyes widen with shock and I stare at her, feeling something shift inside me. I’ve always seen Ivan as closed-off, someone who keeps people at a distance, but this… this changes everything. The way his staff think about him, their willingness to help—it’s not something you earn with money or power. It’s something deeper, something real.

“Have you told him this?” I ask softly, wondering if Ivan even realizes how much his people care about him.

“No, not yet,” Muriel says, her eyes full of the wisdom she has gained over decades. “He’s a proud man with a deep well of resources and talents, and I’ll only step forward if and when I see that those petty men have abused their office and might to unfairly crush him. Only when I see that it is absolutely necessary.”

I don’t know what to say. I feel like I’m learning a whole new side of Ivan and Muriel. And it makes me feel closer to both of them in a way that I can’t quite explain.

I smile at Muriel, feeling a strange sense of comfort. “He is lucky to have you,” I say quietly.

“And he’s lucky to have you. He needs someone like you right now.” She picks up her cup and saucer and stands. “Well then, I’m off to bed. Goodnight, Miss Fitzpatrick.”

“Lara. Call me Lara.”

She shakes her head. “No. It wouldn’t be proper. I come from a long line of servants. My grandmother served as a charwoman in Winston Churchill’s home. I am what I am. I don’t need to pretend to be something I’m not. I’m proud to be here serving Mr. Ivanovich and you, Miss Fitzpatrick.”

I yield to her wish with a small nod, and she moves away.

Once she is gone, I head to the terrace, feeling the cool night air hit my skin. The pool reflects the moonlight, and I slip into the water, Muriel’s words echoing in my head. Muriel taught me something today. Help is saying, I want to help if I can. Help is doing something concrete, no matter how small. Stroke after stroke, I let the lesson swirl in my mind.

When I am tired, I float on my back and gaze at the stars until I feel a little cold. I swim to the edge of the pool and I see him sitting on a lounge chair, his expression unreadable, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. The sight of him makes my heart race, though I’m not sure if it’s relief or something else.

I pull myself out of the water, the cool air hitting my skin as I walk toward him. And for a moment, we just look at each other, the silence stretching between us.

Chapter Forty-Eight

IVAN

Ispotted her the moment I stepped out into the cool night air. She was floating lazily in the pool, her skin catching the faint glow of the moon, and something in me shifted. I decided to sit and watch her. Just watching her calms me. The world outside matters no more. They can’t take this moment away from me.

I’m not drunk. I’m just a little… smooth. The rough edges are gone.

I walk over slowly, bottle in hand, not wanting to break the spell. Water slides down her skin in shimmering trails. I don’t say anything. I just watch her, this woman who’s somehow become the only quiet in the middle of the storm.

“I was heading to the office to get the market to dance with me,” I say, breaking the silence between us, “but I heard the splash. Figured she’ll dance with someone else for a bit. I’d rather be here.”

She takes the bottle from me, her fingers brushing mine, and takes a small sip, her eyes never leaving mine. “Great decision. I… I wanted you here as well.”

There’s a pause. We’re both searching each other’s expressions, trying to figure out what to say without saying it. She hands me back the bottle, and I take a long drink.

“You um ... look quite… distant,” she notes softly.

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