Page 80 of Devil In A Suit

Just then, Muriel enters with a tray, carrying freshly pressed grape juice. She places the glass gently in front of Ivan, hermovements quiet and careful. But he doesn’t even notice. His focus is entirely on whatever message he’s reading on his phone.

Muriel pauses for a second, her eyes meeting mine. There’s something in her gaze—a determination. It’s one of those looks that says, ‘It’s time’.

I clear my throat softly, but Ivan doesn’t hear me. His mind is somewhere else, wrapped in the chaos of his business falling apart.

I tap the table lightly, trying to break through the fog he’s in. “Ivan.”

He looks up with a frown as though he’s just now realizing I’m here. “Hmm?” His voice is distant.

“I... I want to tell you something.” I glance toward Muriel, who nods subtly before stepping out of the room, leaving us alone. “Muriel mentioned earlier that some of your staff... they want to help you.”

His brows furrow, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Help me? How?”

“They’ve been offering their assets,” I explain, my voice softer now. “Their homes, their savings. Muriel said she’s willing to remortgage the retirement cottage you bought for her. They believe in you, Ivan.”

He stares at me for a moment, as though the words aren’t registering. I can see the wall he’s built around himself, the pride that keeps him from leaning on others. But I know this has to touch him, somewhere deep inside. How could it not? These people are giving everything they have, trusting him with their futures.

“Why would they do that?” His voice is barely a whisper, as though he can’t believe it.

“Because of what you’ve done for them,” I say gently. “How you’ve helped them over the years.”

He looks away, his gaze shifting to the window. The light falls across his face, casting shadows on the sharp lines of his cheekbones. For a long time, there’s nothing but silence between us. I can feel the clash of his emotions, the battle he’s fighting to keep it all in.

Just then, the door opens, and one by one, his staff begin to enter. Muriel steps forward first, holding an envelope in her hands. She’s calm, but there’s a quiet determination in her expression.

“You secured my future for me when there was no need, no obligation to, Mr. Ivanovich,” she says, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “Now, it’s only fair that I offer this to you. Please... take this.” She places the envelope on the table, her hand lingering for a moment before she steps back.

Ivan’s eyes widen slightly, his shock visible. Before he can respond, Brad, one of his longtime drivers, steps forward. “Sir,” he begins, his voice carrying a sincerity that makes my heart ache. “You’ve done so much for us. My apartment... it’s yours if you need it.”

Another envelope joins the pile.

Then comes the Chefs, the other chauffeur, his bodyguards, the guy who has the cleaning contract. Each one offers their savings, their homes, everything they have. Muriel takes her phone out and other staff from his other houses appear on a Zoom call. They want to help too.

I watch Ivan, his hands trembling, the emotion he’s trying so hard to contain finally breaking through. This is a man who’s always been in control, always stood on his own, and now... now he’s surrounded by people who believe in him so much they are willing to give up everything for him.

The last staff member on the Zoom call finishes and silence falls over the room once again. Ivan stares at the pile of envelopes on the table, his expression unreadable. I can see thetears he’s holding back, the way his fingers twitch as though he’s not sure what to do with this truly incredible display of loyalty.

I stand slowly, my heart pounding as I walk over to the small cabinet in the corner. My hands tremble as I retrieve the deed to my apartment and my father’s house, the same offer I made to him before—the one he rejected.

I place it gently on top of the pile.

“I know this won’t make a dent in the $320 million loan,” I say quietly, my voice barely steady. “But it’s not about the money. It’s about showing you that you’re not alone. You have people who believe in you.”

Ivan looks up at me, his blue eyes filled with something raw, something vulnerable. He’s not used to this—this kind of support, this kind of care. For a moment, he just stares, as though he’s trying to find the right words. Then, he nods, a small, tight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. And then he looks up at all his staff. “Really, thank you all. I deeply appreciate it.” They give to him with sincerity and great affection shining in their eyes and then leave the room, leaving us both alone once again. I return to my seat and watch him stare down in disbelief at the pile of documents and envelopes.

“You’re not going to use them, are you?” I ask.

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders slumping.

“No,” he somehow works up a smile. “I cannot put their life’s savings in danger. What if I am killed in a road accident tomorrow? What will happen then? But I’ll keep them and return them at a later date. I… I can see that you all care and that you want to help me. And so, I’ll accept that help now. I won’t use your properties, but I’ll look to them for added strength when I need to remind myself that I’m not alone in this.”

My heart swells up and warms at this, but I know it makes me immensely sad.

He continues speaking. “I’ve decided to accept my sister’s help,” he admits after a moment, his voice low.

I am stunned by this and quite angry. “What… but…”

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