Page 84 of Devil In A Suit

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, the gesture surprisingly gentle. “I knew it. You don’t have to be another one of his casualties,” he murmurs. “You deserve better.”

I pull away, confused and shocked. “Nikolai, stop. I don’t need saving.”

“Yes, you do,” he insists, his voice urgent now. “You don’t see what I see. Ivan will leave you broken, and I don’t want that for you.”

“Nikolai, you’re stressing me out,” I say coldly. “None of this is necessary, and frankly, I don’t know why you’re doing this. What’s between me and Ivan is private and not anybody else’s business.”

“I am in love with you,” he confesses, his voice raw. “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you.”

The words land like a punch to the gut, and I take a step back. “What?”

“Yes, I’m in love with you,” he repeats earnestly.

“You don’t know me,” I manage to say in complete disbelief. “How can you be in love with someone who you don’t know?”

“That’s why I am here,” he says, stepping forward. “So you can give us a chance before it’s too late. I’m not denying myself the woman I love because Ivan got there first. I was so happy when you called this morning, you have no idea.”

“Nikolai, this is insane,” I say, but the fear is rising now. His eyes are dark, almost feverish.

“It’s not insane,” he insists. “It’s real. You and I, we could be happy—far away from Ivan, from all of this.”

I shake my head. “I won’t leave him.”

His face contorts with anger. “Then you leave me no choice,” he says coldly. “If you don’t come with me, I’ll kill him.”

The threat sends a wave of terror crashing over me. At first, I am sure he is joking, but when I see the look in his eyes I know that he is not. “What are you talking about?”

His voice is chillingly calm. “I’ve planted a bomb in his car. If you don’t come with me now, he dies.”

I try to keep my composure, even as panic rises within me. “You’re lying.”

“Do you really want to take that chance?” he counters, his voice low and menacing, as he takes a black device out of his pocket. “All I have to do is press this button and… boom! They’ll have to scrape him off the tarmac.”

I force myself to swallow the terror that’s threatening to choke me. “Fine,” I say, my voice barely audible, shaky with a mix of fear and desperation. “I’ll come with you. Just… let me leave a note for Ivan.”

He narrows his eyes, suspicious but seemingly satisfied for now. “Make it quick,” he snaps, his tone sharp, but I catch a flicker of something—triumph, maybe? He thinks he’s won.

I take a shaky breath and turn toward the dining table, reaching for a notepad and pen, my mind racing. Every fiber of me is screaming for a way out, for something that could save Ivan. My hands tremble as I pick up the pen, but I try to steady them, knowing that any sign of hesitation could tip Nikolai off.

“Lara,” he warns, his voice suddenly low and dangerous. “No tricks.”

I glance over my shoulder, forcing a hollow smile. “No tricks. You have a bomb,” I say, managing to keep my tone flat. I begin writing the note, my hand moving quickly:

I’m leaving. I can’t do this anymore. It’s over. Lara

My heart aches with each stroke, and I can feel the panic building, the fear that this might be the last thing Ivan ever reads from me. But even as I write my eyes dart around the room, searching for something, anything I can use. My gaze lands on the small silver salt shaker on the sideboard, and an idea strikes me—one that’s risky, but it’s the only chance I have.

Nikolai’s attention wavers, his eyes flicking toward the window, as if he’s making sure everything outside is clear. His momentary distraction gives me the opening I need. As I set down the pen, I reach for the salt shaker with my other hand, trying to keep my movements slow and unsuspicious. I twist thetop off, my heart pounding in my chest, and spill a thin line of salt on the dark wood of the dining table.

My fingers shake as I carefully trace the words into the spilt salt:

It’s Niko

Each letter is a desperate plea for Ivan to understand. My pulse thunders in my ears, and I glance back at Nikolai, who’s pacing now and speaking furiously in Russian to someone on his phone., his back turned to me.

“Lara!” he barks suddenly, making me jump. “Let’s go.”

The sound of his voice snaps me back, and I hastily place the salt shaker back on the sideboard, trying to look calm. “I’m ready,” I say, my voice firmer than before, despite the fear still clawing at me.

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