Page 85 of Devil In A Suit

“Show me the note,” he orders.

I hold it out to him.

His eyes flick over the words, then puts it on the dining table. For a couple of heart-stopping seconds, he watches me, suspicion lurking in his gaze. I hold my breath, terrified he might notice the salt on the sideboard. Muriel keeps the place so spotless it sticks out like a sore thumb, but he nods, his expression cold, and gestures toward the door.

We head out to the car, and I force myself to keep walking, each step feeling like a betrayal. I glance back at the house, hoping, praying that Ivan sees the message in time.

As soon as we reach the car, Nikolai yanks open the door and gestures for me to get inside. “Take off your jewelry,” he orders, his voice harsh. “All of it.”

I fumble with my necklace, hands shaking. The pendant Ivan gave me—the one with the tracker—hangs heavily in my grasp.I remember his warning: If you’re ever in danger, swallow it. The words echo in my mind as I look at Nikolai, his eyes cold, unyielding.

“Do it,” he insists, growing impatient.

I bring the pendant to my lips, feigning difficulty in unclasping it. I steal one last look at Nikolai’s distracted gaze, then take a deep breath and swallow it, feeling the cold metal slide down my throat. It’s the most desperate thing I’ve ever done, but it’s the only hope I have left.

He glares at me, noticing my slow movements. “Hurry up,” he barks. “We don’t have all day.”

I quickly remove my earrings and bracelet, tossing them out of the window as he demands. He doesn’t seem to notice anything unusual, too focused on navigating the traffic.

As the car starts moving, I fight to keep my composure, knowing that this could be my only chance to signal Ivan. The feeling of the pendant still lingers in my throat, uncomfortable but also strangely reassuring. I cling to that small bit of hope, praying that he’s already searching for me, that he’s following the tracker.

“Relax,” Nikolai says suddenly, his voice low and deceptively gentle. “This is for the best.”

I turn my head to face him, my voice barely a whisper as I respond. “You’re insane.”

He just smirks, his eyes glinting with cold certainty. “One day, you’ll thank me.”

But I don’t believe him—not for a second.

Chapter Fifty-Two

IVAN

Ifeel an unusual sense of lightness as I drive back home. Lara's courage with my father impresses and touches me—she went beyond anything I could have expected, risking her pride, maybe even her safety, to help me. There’s an urgency in my chest, a desperate need to get back to her, hold her and thank her properly for what she did. I can’t remember the last time I felt this… grateful, or this all-encompassing love for another human being.

She’s changed everything.

The thought of seeing her lovely face brings a rare smile to my own, one that lingers even as I reach the front door. I step inside, expecting to hear her soft footsteps or maybe find her waiting for me in the living room. Instead, the house is unsettlingly quiet.

“Lara?” I call out, my voice echoing through the empty rooms.

I head to the living room, glancing around. Everything looks normal, but there’s a gnawing feeling in my gut. That’s when I see the note on the coffee table with my name written hastilyacross the front. I snatch it up, and as my eyes skim over the words, my chest tightens:

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

Instantly, I know this is not her. My grip on the paper tightens. My Lara would never leave like this. This is the work of a coward or someone being held against her will. Panic flares as I scan the room again, desperately searching for something—anything—that could explain what’s going on.

That’s when I see it. The salt spilt on the dining table. I run to it. A message is scrawled in the salt on the dining table.It’s Niko.The air leaves my lungs in a rush. What the hell has he done?

My hands are trembling as I pull up the tracker app, my heart pounding erratically as the signal blinks—she’s moving north. My father owns a derelict warehouse in that area. He was hoping to get planning permission to develop it but it was turned down by the city officials, so he decided to keep it empty until there was a change of administration. I feel sure that is where he is heading. There’s no time to think. No time to lose. I sprint toward the door, dialing my head of security on the way.

"Get every available man to my location," I bark into the phone, already running toward the car. "We’re tracking Lara’s signal. Go now. I think she’s being taken to the old cotton mill warehouse. Be careful. He might be armed."

He doesn’t ask questions. He simply responds, "On it."

I jump into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut. Engine roaring and tires screeching, I tear out of the garage. Adrenaline courses through me, propelling me forward. I weave through traffic recklessly, swerving between cars, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. I press the gas harder, pushing past the speedlimit, past the point of reason. I have to get to her. I have to save her.

My breaths come in sharp bursts, each one shallow and ragged. My chest tightens with every second that passes, and the thought of what Nikolai could be doing to Lara makes my blood run cold.

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