"So... she's under pressure."
"It seems so, yes."
Leonid replied casually, then added after a moment of thought:
"Especially since she seems distracted most of the time."
"Well, that's expected... and unexpected at the same time."
Vladimir leaned against the wall, staring into space, then said in a calm voice that carried a hint of sharpness:
"Women usually have difficulty expressing their feelings under pressure... so how would it be if she's being hunted by a psychopath?"
Furrowing his brows, he asked thoughtfully:
"But considering what you know about Charlotte Smith... how can she remain calm knowing she's being hunted by someone who threatens her life?"
"Well..."
Leonid hesitated for a moment, then replied quietly:
"It's complicated... Charlotte isn't just a victim, she's a silent victim."
He moved his gaze away from her and began pacing slowly around his bedroom, as if trying to organize his thoughts. Then he continued in a more serious tone:
"Her staying here is dangerous. The deputy commander believes we must move quickly before another tragedy happens. Especially since I suspect the one who killed Hunter is the same killer we're after... maybe this is his way of playing with his victims."
"You're right..."
Vladimir sighed, then added in a decisive tone:
"Keep her with you. You can also bring her to the headquarters, just don't let her go alone. And as for her apartment... don't let her go back there, no matter what. Understood?"
Leonid suddenly stopped, stared at the floor for a moment, then lifted his head and answered firmly:
"I understand... and I'll make sure she doesn't go anywhere."
"Very good, I'll see you later."
Before ending the call, Vladimir pulled out his phone and opened the door to Kozlov's office.
Leonid was about to end the call from his side, but he suddenly froze when he heard his father growl sharply, followed by Vasily's usual lazy complaining.
He stood still for a moment, trying to process what was happening, but before he could make sense of it, a heavy sigh came from Vladimir... then the line was abruptly cut off.
Leonid froze for a moment in his bedroom, wondering what was happening at headquarters. He raised his free hand, nervously ran his fingers through his silver hair, then exhaled silently before putting his phone back in his pocket and heading into the living room.
Charlotte didn't notice his return; she was distracted, staring at the remnants of the pastry with a blank expression, lost in her thoughts.
With quiet steps, Leonid approached her. He picked up a light blanket that was draped over the back of the couch, then moved closer to her. She gave him no attention until she suddenly felt warmth wrapping around her.
She quickly lifted her head, her wide eyes meeting his. Leonid was silently draping the blanket around her shoulders before gently patting her head, then turning toward the kitchen.
She continued staring at his back, her dark eyes watching him as he gathered Hunter's belongings, his leftover food, his utensils. Everything that tied the place to his previous presence, so that it could be disposed of.
Charlotte silently contemplated the reality, feeling a pang of guilt creep back into her. She slowly rose from the chair, hesitant, but the blanket slipped off her shoulders and fell to the ground with a soft sound.
Leonid was crouching, absorbed in collecting Hunter's belongings, when a sound caught his attention at the edge of his awareness. He sharpened his senses slightly but didn't give it much thought until he felt something else—slender arms wrapping gently around his neck from behind.
He froze in place, tried to turn, but stopped halfway when her whisper reached him, soft and heavy with despair.
"I'm sorry…"
She repeated it quietly, as though apologizing not just to him, but to everything—and to herself as well.
"Can you hit me?"
Leonid froze, letting Hunter's belongings slip from his hands and fall silently beside his feet. He narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to process what he'd heard, but her trembling whisper near his ear pulled him back to the moment.
"I feel guilty… I almost hate myself."
She hesitated for a moment, then added in an even quieter voice, as if pleading with him:
"Leonid, please… If you're angry, hit me."
She tightened her arms around him, as if trying to hold him in place, then pressed her face into the crook of his neck, breathing heavily, as if afraid he might pull away.
"I don't mind… I promise, I won't hate you."
Leonid exhaled slowly, then raised his hand to rub his jaw in frustration.
"What are you saying, huh?!"
He suddenly let go of his jaw and grabbed her arms, pulling them away from him firmly, then lifted her slightly before letting her drop gently to the floor, though without hurting her.
He bent over her, his sharp eyes piercing into hers, as if searching for something inside her.
"If you really feel guilty..."
He paused for a moment, tightening his grip on her wrist, then continued in a low but firm voice:
"Then stop, please."
She stared at him silently, catching her breath, while he continued sharply.
"Hitting you won't bring anything back to me… and it won't change anything."
Then he added in a calmer tone, but still charged with suppressed anger:
"And also… a real man doesn't hit a woman."
He truly hoped she would stop blaming herself, that she would open her heart to him, that she would confide in him instead of hiding behind her silence and clinging to the role of the silent victim.
Once again, Leonid found himself returning to the real reason behind all this her family. The way they treated her, something in her had been slowly broken. And though he had only heard a few words about them from her, they were enough to tell him everything he needed to know.
The smoke from the neglected cigarette on the edge of the sink slowly rose, swirling in the air before dissipating with the sound of the news anchor's voice from the TV, echoing in the narrow bathroom.
Devin turned off the tap, cold droplets trickling from his chin into the sink as he grabbed a towel and wiped his face lazily. He lifted his gaze to the mirror, where his phone was mounted, its screen lit up with breaking news.
The news of his assault on Charlotte had taken over social media, everyone criticizing him, calling for his arrest, pointing fingers at him. And, of course, the comments weren't entirely fair, as Charlotte didn't escape blame either.
[The Gossip: He's disgusting, someone like him should be arrested immediately!]
[World Princess: How could she just run away? If I were her, I would have ended him with a single move from martial arts.]
[Don't Call Me You: This world has become so scary…]
Devin slowly ran his thumb across the screen, reading the comments one by one. His lips curled into a smile, not tense, not angry, but completely satisfied.
Was he bothered by all this noise surrounding him? No... It was the noise of fame, and he was enjoying every second of it.
"Hmm… should I do interviews now?"
Devin muttered sarcastically as he closed his phone, his lips still holding the remnants of a carefree smile.
He slowly turned, heading towards his wardrobe, stretching his arms as if preparing for an ordinary day. But it wasn't ordinary; he had to prepare to offer his condolences, as announced in the building's post that a Husky dog had died from a heart attack.
He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning his wardrobe, before he whispered mockingly.
"Solidarity together, huh?... What nonsense."
He reached for a black suit, pulled it out nonchalantly, then combed his hair with a quick motion, as if it wasn't worth any more effort. After that, he left his apartment with calm steps, filled with sadistic energy.
In the living room, silence filled the space for a moment.
Leonid was staring at Charlotte, his intense gaze searching for any trace of hesitation in her eyes. But this time, she didn't even try to avoid his gaze; she had lost all her shame in facing him.
Finally, she whispered in a calm but firm voice.
"You're right… a real man doesn't hit a woman."
She paused, as if tasting her words for a moment, then added seriously.
"I won't repeat this."
Something in Leonid's features softened slightly. A quiet exhale escaped his lips before he mumbled.
"I'm grateful for your understanding… finally."
Leonid stepped back from Charlotte and returned to collecting Hunter's scattered belongings on the floor, while she lay on her back, the cold floor seeping through her fragile body. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, as though time itself had frozen around her, passing slowly, painfully.
Then suddenly, the doorbell broke the heavy silence.
"I'll go see who it is. You'd better not move."
Leonid said calmly, though his words carried a faint warning as he gestured with his index finger. He slowly rose, his body tense, before heading toward the door.