Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
LARA
T oday is the day.
The ominous words float in my mind, heavy and inevitable as I sit across from Ivan in the conservatory. Sunlight filters through the large windows, bathing the room in warmth, but it does nothing to ease the tension in the air. The simple breakfast before me—fresh fruit, croissants, and tea—sits untouched. I’m too busy watching him, noting the tight line of his mouth, the way his brow furrows as he scrolls through his phone. He barely looks at his plate, hardly touches his coffee.
I know he’s thinking about the $320 million loan that’s set to be pulled today. It’s like a ticking time bomb, and though he hasn’t said it aloud, I can see the strain in every movement. He’s been confiding in me more recently, little glimpses into his life and his struggles, but I’ve been careful not to push. Not to pry. I want to help, but how? What can I possibly do in the face of such a colossal number?
I feel so... useless.
Just then, Muriel enters with a tray, carrying freshly pressed grape juice. She places the glass gently in front of Ivan, her movements 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 the tears 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…”
“I know,” he says. “My sister is a shark, but I have swum with sharks before and survived. Money can always be earned. I’ll be okay. The most important thing is to not allow the loan to be cancelled, because that will have a cascading effect on all the other businesses. Once that is secure then I’ll dedicate myself to fighting with every ounce of energy to clear my name,” he says, determination flickering in his eyes. “And I’ll make sure everyone who’s helped me is rewarded. Tenfold. At least. I’ll never forget this day as long as I live.”
Unable to finish his breakfast, Ivan stands. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
“Thank you,” he whispers again before turning and leaving the room.
I sit there in the silence that follows, staring at the uneaten food. There has to be something more I can do. I can’t stand the thought of his sister taking advantage of him like this. And since Nikolai is already in debt, he can’t help, there’s only one other person I can think of.
His father.
The idea feels bold, reckless even. But maybe... just maybe it’s the right move. I don’t know where his father is—France was the last place I saw him—but I know someone who might.
I pull out my phone and dial Nikolai’s number, my heart pounding in my chest as the line rings.
“Lara,” Nikolai’s voice greets me, teasing as usual. “Fancy you actually using my number and calling me. I would have never expected it in a million years.”
I too would have never expected that I would be doing this, but this is my last chance to help, and I will not miss it for anything, even my pride and reluctance.
“So, what can I do for you?” he asks.
“I need your father’s phone number,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s... it’s personal.”
There’s a pause, then Nikolai responds, his tone more serious than I’ve ever heard it. “I will get it. I’ll text it to you.”
I thank him, feeling a rush of relief when the number comes through. My fingers tremble slightly as I dial. This feels reckless—calling a man I’ve only met once, and under very different circumstances.
The phone rings once, twice, and then a deep voice answers, a familiar note of authority in the tone.
“Mr Ivanovich,” I begin.
“Lara,” he says immediately.
I freeze, caught off guard. “You... how do you know it’s me?”
“What do you want?” he asks, ignoring my question so I have no choice but to get to the point of why I’m calling him.
“I—I wasn’t sure if you’d be in New York,” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady. “Can I… can we meet, Mr Ivanovich? You can tell me where you are, and I’ll find my way there.”
This sounds ridiculous because, of course, I wouldn’t be able to find my way there, but then again, I have no interest in dwelling on any problems for the day before they actually exist.
“I’m in New York as it happens,” he says. “I’ll send a car for you.”
I nearly go into shock. It wears off very quickly though when I hear the click of his phone ringing off. Relief washes through me. Instantly, I jump up and do a happy dance. I did it. I called him and made an appointment.
Now all I have to do is ask him to loan his son about three hundred million dollars, give or take a few million.