Page 74
Story: Devil In A Suit
I didn’t expect this—I never thought I could fall asleep so easily with her in my arms. The world outside the room fades away, and all that remains is us.
Just Leda and me.
Chapter Forty-Six
LARA
On our flight back to New York, I call my dad and he assures me all is well. He is going to his addictions group therapy, and the office is ticking along nicely. I end the call with him to take Leila’s call.
“What’s going on with you?” she demands.
I stare at her familiar face on the phone screen. It should calm me, but it only amplifies the mess in my head. I don’t know what I feel... numb? No, that’s not right. I’m overwhelmed. Completely. Everything is swirling together—the past few days in Ivan’s world are like trying to hold water in my hands, and I don’t know how to explain it.
Leila’s voice is louder this time, sharper. “Lara, did you hear me? What’s going on? Are you all right?”
I snap out of my daze. “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.” It’s an obvious lie, and we both know it. The last two days feel like a whirlwind that I still can’t quite wrap my head around.
Leila tilts her head, raising an eyebrow in that unique way she does when she knows something’s up. “Don’t give me thathorseshit. What’s going on? You’re acting all... I don’t know. Different. Weird. Please tell me you’re not falling for him.”
Falling for him. That’s very much already baked into the cake. My mind pulls me back to earlier this morning. To Ivan. The memory floats in, vivid and intimate.
It was one of those perfect mornings where everything felt easy. Ivan and I had stayed in bed longer than usual, the early sunlight filtering through the windows, casting a golden glow over us. He’d pulled me close, his arms wrapped securely around me, the weight of the world temporarily forgotten. His skin was warm against mine, his breath steady as he mumbled something in Russian I didn’t quite catch, but I didn’t need to understand. The softness in his tone said enough.
Then he started sharing bits of stories I’d never heard, and I found myself lost in the way he spoke, his words unguarded, his laughter warm. And then he picked up the book I’d been reading. “Romance, huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I can’t get enough.”
“Is the hero Russian?” he teased.
I smiled secretively. “Of course.”
“Is he tragic and brooding?”
I nudged his arm. “No, I have that in real life.”
His eyes had flicked to mine, playful but with an edge of something deeper. “Maybe. But I’m working on my happy ending.”
We both laughed, but beneath the surface, I felt something shift. It was subtle but undeniable—this pull between us, a connection I couldn’t ignore. And then he kissed me. Not the passionate, hungry kisses from before, but something softer, almost... careful.
“Hey, what is that around your neck!” Leila calls, her voice pulling me from my thoughts.
Leila's eyes are wide with curiosity “Oh my God, is that a gift?” she squeals.
I touch the little ruby pendant lightly, feeling its warm weight against my skin. “Yeah,” I admit, my voice quieter, almost shy. “He gave it to me this morning.”
Leila’s mouth drops open in awe. “Lara, it’s so pretty! Oh my God. You are falling for him.”
I hesitate for a moment, but I decide to just tell her. “it’s not what you think. There's a story behind it.”
“Well, come on. Out with it?”
“It’s not an ordinary pendant. It has a tracker inside. He said he’d be able to find me if there was ever any trouble.”
Leila’s eyebrows shoot up, her excitement replaced by a hint of skepticism. “Wait, what? Isn’t that... a little… um… creepy? I mean, he’s tracking your movements now?”
I try to laugh it off, it sounds forced even to me. “Yeah, normally I would agree with you, but some stuff is going down right now with him and he doesn’t really trust anyone here in Paris.”
“What stuff?” she asks skeptically.
Just Leda and me.
Chapter Forty-Six
LARA
On our flight back to New York, I call my dad and he assures me all is well. He is going to his addictions group therapy, and the office is ticking along nicely. I end the call with him to take Leila’s call.
“What’s going on with you?” she demands.
I stare at her familiar face on the phone screen. It should calm me, but it only amplifies the mess in my head. I don’t know what I feel... numb? No, that’s not right. I’m overwhelmed. Completely. Everything is swirling together—the past few days in Ivan’s world are like trying to hold water in my hands, and I don’t know how to explain it.
Leila’s voice is louder this time, sharper. “Lara, did you hear me? What’s going on? Are you all right?”
I snap out of my daze. “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.” It’s an obvious lie, and we both know it. The last two days feel like a whirlwind that I still can’t quite wrap my head around.
Leila tilts her head, raising an eyebrow in that unique way she does when she knows something’s up. “Don’t give me thathorseshit. What’s going on? You’re acting all... I don’t know. Different. Weird. Please tell me you’re not falling for him.”
Falling for him. That’s very much already baked into the cake. My mind pulls me back to earlier this morning. To Ivan. The memory floats in, vivid and intimate.
It was one of those perfect mornings where everything felt easy. Ivan and I had stayed in bed longer than usual, the early sunlight filtering through the windows, casting a golden glow over us. He’d pulled me close, his arms wrapped securely around me, the weight of the world temporarily forgotten. His skin was warm against mine, his breath steady as he mumbled something in Russian I didn’t quite catch, but I didn’t need to understand. The softness in his tone said enough.
Then he started sharing bits of stories I’d never heard, and I found myself lost in the way he spoke, his words unguarded, his laughter warm. And then he picked up the book I’d been reading. “Romance, huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I can’t get enough.”
“Is the hero Russian?” he teased.
I smiled secretively. “Of course.”
“Is he tragic and brooding?”
I nudged his arm. “No, I have that in real life.”
His eyes had flicked to mine, playful but with an edge of something deeper. “Maybe. But I’m working on my happy ending.”
We both laughed, but beneath the surface, I felt something shift. It was subtle but undeniable—this pull between us, a connection I couldn’t ignore. And then he kissed me. Not the passionate, hungry kisses from before, but something softer, almost... careful.
“Hey, what is that around your neck!” Leila calls, her voice pulling me from my thoughts.
Leila's eyes are wide with curiosity “Oh my God, is that a gift?” she squeals.
I touch the little ruby pendant lightly, feeling its warm weight against my skin. “Yeah,” I admit, my voice quieter, almost shy. “He gave it to me this morning.”
Leila’s mouth drops open in awe. “Lara, it’s so pretty! Oh my God. You are falling for him.”
I hesitate for a moment, but I decide to just tell her. “it’s not what you think. There's a story behind it.”
“Well, come on. Out with it?”
“It’s not an ordinary pendant. It has a tracker inside. He said he’d be able to find me if there was ever any trouble.”
Leila’s eyebrows shoot up, her excitement replaced by a hint of skepticism. “Wait, what? Isn’t that... a little… um… creepy? I mean, he’s tracking your movements now?”
I try to laugh it off, it sounds forced even to me. “Yeah, normally I would agree with you, but some stuff is going down right now with him and he doesn’t really trust anyone here in Paris.”
“What stuff?” she asks skeptically.
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