The hallway was completely quiet, with only the sound of his steady footsteps on the floor. He walked confidently until he reached her apartment, took her keys out of his pocket, and turned the lock quietly.
After Charlotte gazed at the mourning flowers over Leonid's shoulder, she slightly lifted her head, her eyes fixing on the keys in his hands, then she looked at him with a faint murmur.
"When... when did you lock my apartment and take my keys?"
The last thing she remembered was him closing the door, but she didn't realize when he had kept the keys. Everything he did was done quietly, with calculated steps, as if he had been planning it from the start.
"Since yesterday."
He answered briefly, a slight smile forming on his lips before he entered.
Once he closed the door behind him, Leonid gently placed Charlotte on the floor. As soon as her feet touched the familiar ground, she turned, her eyes scanning the apartment she had left the day before.
Everything was just as it was. The couch that Leonid had accidentally moved, the cushions scattered randomly, the dishes he had used for cooking and then washed—there was no sign of a break-in or theft.
But she knew... that man, Mr. D, wasn't just a thief. He was something else entirely.
She slowly raised her hand, gently touching her neck, while her eyes followed the few drops of blood scattered on the floor.
Leonid watched her in silence, his gaze following her movement, stopping at her hand as it passed over the faint redness on her skin.
A pet died here.
She thought to herself, hesitantly, as she began to walk slowly, as if afraid to step on some hidden trace of the crime.
How could someone kill... even an animal, so coldly?
The thoughts tumbled in her mind, Daniel's words echoing in her head. What that man did wasn't just an isolated incident; it was a crime. Even if the victim was just an animal, murder is still murder, no matter who the target is.
She knelt by the bloodstains, staring at them in silence, her eyes filling with tears, unable to move past the weight of what had happened here.
"Charlotte..."
Leonid called her in a soft voice, but before he could continue, she quickly interrupted him:
"I'm fine."
As soon as he called her, Charlotte realized that she needed to let go of her sadness and guilt... at least in front of him.
She took a deep breath, then slowly stood up, moving cautiously toward the bedroom, as if walking on unstable ground.
"I'll request a cleaning service later."
She muttered as she wiped her tears with the tip of her finger, trying to appear composed despite the turmoil inside her.
Leonid followed her, thinking to himself, standing directly behind her as she raised her hand to light the dark room. The strands of light spread over the closed curtains, as if she were trying to chase away the darkness that had settled in the space.
"No need to trouble yourself, leave it to me, I'll take care of it."
His voice was calm but firm, and before she could object, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her a little closer.
"I know well that you don't have the energy to do that."
A look of displeasure crossed her face, and she furrowed her brows before responding in a low voice, though it held a hint of sharpness:
"You're wrong..."
She hesitated for a moment, then added in a dark, candid tone:
"I don't have the energy to do anything."
It was an admission more than she had intended to reveal, yet she didn't try to take it back.
She avoided his gaze and moved forward, pulling herself free from his arm as though it were just another obstacle to overcome.
Leonid watched her silently, many thoughts swirling in his mind. One was to contact headquarters, form a team to clean her apartment, and search for any traces of fingerprints.
The other was admiring Charlotte's honesty, a quality he had almost lost the taste for with the ongoing secrecy. But for some reason, there was something else weighing on him more than just thinking about these two things.
Charlotte walked toward her wardrobe and opened it quietly, her eyes scanning the clothes arranged by color. She hesitated for a moment before pulling out a piece of clothing, then turned to Leonid and said shyly, avoiding direct eye contact:
"Please leave."
Leonid raised an eyebrow, surprised, as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind until that moment.
"Leave?"
He repeated it slowly, as if testing how it sounded on his tongue. For a moment, he forgot that this was Charlotte, the shy woman he had barely touched with his lips.
"But... can't I stay?"
He took a step back but didn't move completely away. With a subtle gesture, he pointed to himself and then to her, his eyes watching her clear discomfort.
"As you know, I've seen everything before... did you forget?"
His words were soft, but charged with deliberate boldness. Perhaps he was rude, but he wasn't just trying to break the barrier between them—he was reminding her of what had happened.
"What... are you saying?"
Charlotte's lips parted slightly, staring at Leonid in disbelief, as if she couldn't believe what she had heard.
What kind of audacity did this man have to speak like that?
Leonid saw the shock in her eyes, the tension that faded for a moment before returning stronger. He felt as if he had crossed a line this time. He cleared his throat, trying to recover his composure, then said with an artificial firmness.
"Forget it, it was just a slip of the tongue."
He said it flatly, as if he were pulling the words out of the air. Then, without waiting for her response, he turned and left, closing the door behind him with a swifter motion than he had intended.
Charlotte remained frozen in place, staring at the closed door, as if still processing what had happened. She blinked slowly, then a warm, embarrassed flush crept to her cheeks.
Meanwhile, Leonid stood in the living room, walking aimlessly for a few steps, then lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck, where a faint flush of embarrassment lingered.
Over time, Charlotte moved past what had happened and removed Leonid's clothes before pulling out the black outfit she had chosen. The black shirt felt soft between her fingers, and the shorts seemed to fit perfectly. As she buttoned the shirt, her fingers briefly brushed the necklace at her neck, as if drawing some reassurance from it, then she quickly fastened the last button.
She ran her fingers through her chestnut hair, combing it gently, then left the room. In the living room, she found Leonid standing, speaking on the phone in a serious tone. She stopped for a moment, watching him silently, observing his stern features, before a sudden thought came to her… her phone!
She quickly scanned the room, her black eyes sweeping the space with focus. She moved toward the couch where she had been lying the night before, and when she lifted the pillow, she spotted her phone there. She picked it up calmly, pressed the screen, and the faint light illuminated her face.
No calls, no messages. The silence was expected, yet she felt a slight sting of disappointment.
She wasn't eager to hear from her family, but she clung, even if unconsciously, to the idea that family can feel for one another. Isn't that what they always say? Perhaps it wasn't true after all.
She didn't notice how her lips curled into a frown, or how those tiny, barely realized expectations faded away. She sighed quietly and returned the phone to her pocket, as if burying part of her unwanted thoughts inside it.
After all, she had never been the daughter who met her family's expectations. She wasn't even close to that.
She took a deep breath, trying to suppress her emotions. Charlotte turned to leave but stopped suddenly when she found Leonid standing beside her, closer than she had expected.
"We can go."
He said in his monotone voice, then added as if stating a simple fact:
"I requested a cleaning service for you, and I contacted building security to allow them entry."
Leonid continued speaking while noticing her unusual calm. For a moment, she seemed as if she weren't fully present.
"Is everything alright? You seem... sad."
Charlotte paused for a moment, as if contemplating her response. She didn't want to discuss her feelings, at least not with him.
"I'm fine."
She said in a calm voice, though it lacked any conviction.
Leonid didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press her further. He just nodded lightly, as if it didn't matter, though his eyes continued to watch her with subtle interest.
"Alright then, let's go."
He said as he turned toward the door. Charlotte followed him with slow steps, casting one last glance at her apartment before putting on her shoes and closing the door behind her to catch up with Leonid.
"But shouldn't I stay here to wait for the cleaning service?"
"No need to stay, it's a very reliable service, believe me."
Leonid's confidence was well-placed; the team he had called in were specialists in fingerprint cleaning and removal with precision.