Burden of secrecy (part2)

As soon as Pyotr opened the door, he was met with Leonid's sharp, piercing gaze.

The irritation in his eyes was unmistakable and in return, Pyotr made no effort to hide his own displeasure at seeing him.

"Step aside."

Leonid uttered the words with deadly calm, prompting Pyotr to narrow his eyes. Still, he eventually stepped back and made way for him.

Leonid entered with confident strides, casting a quick glance at Charlotte, who was drowning in tears, lost in a storm of emotions, and then at Alia, frozen in place, staring down at the floor. He walked into the kitchen, placed the bags on the table with exaggerated calmness, then turned to leave.

But Pyotr blocked his way.

"Let me explain."

He stood in front of him, preventing him from leaving. He knew that seeing Charlotte like this so broken, those tears might ignite the madness inside Leonid.

And ever since that day, he no longer dared to provoke that man's fury… not after learning the truth about him.

Leonid's eyes narrowed slowly, as if holding back an explosion, before he said with cold finality:

"There's no need."

He was trying to stay calm. He exhaled slowly, then shoved Pyotr aside and walked past him toward Charlotte.

His steps were slow and steady, yet the tension in his pale blue eyes flashed like lightning in a dark sky.

He stopped in front of her, studied her vacant expression. Her left cheek was swollen, and her dark eyes, once shimmering like a nebula of stars, were now shattered like broken glass.

He took a deep breath, then called to her as gently as he could:

"Darling…"

He paused, as if swallowing his rage, then asked with visible frustration:

"Why are you like this?"

His hand was clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, as if trying to absorb the fire of his fury. When he left earlier, Charlotte had been smiling… Now? None of her remained.

"Who dared to slap you? Who made you cry?"

His voice was low, sweet completely at odds with his usually cold demeanor.

Alia's heart was trembling. She didn't know how long Leonid would stay calm before snapping… so she stepped in:

"Don't get the wrong idea when we got here, she had already been hurt."

She paused, struggling to find the right words, then quickly added,

"She was arguing with—"

"I… wasn't asking you."

Leonid cut her off without looking at her, his voice quiet but sharp, cold as a blade.

That stung Alia with anger, while Pyotr only stared in tense silence.

Who dared to slap you? Who made you cry?

Leonid's words still echoed in Charlotte's ears like a distant murmur… as if they weren't meant for her.

She was the one who allowed this. She was the one who invited the pain—into her life and into the lives of those around her.

Was her silence really worth all this suffering?

She felt the weight of the world collapse upon her shoulders, and her chest tightened around her heart like an unrelenting fist.

Her fingers trembled, and her tears kept falling, hot and bitter, despite her desperate attempts to stop them.

She had reached the edge of her endurance. There was nothing left to hold onto.

Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at Leonid. For a moment, she thought he was angry at her, but behind his gaze, she saw something deeper.

Frustration? Pain? Or perhaps something she would never understand…

How strange. When did she lose the ability to read the emotions in others' eyes?

"Are you… disappointed in me?"

She asked quietly, her voice calm so unlike the chaos inside her. The question felt like a splinter lodged in her chest.

"Leonid…"

She whispered his name with a hoarse voice, as if the letters themselves were tearing through her throat.

She longed for someone to guide her, to reach out and draw the pain from her heart without hurting her.

But she had learned that silence was the safest choice.

"Do you… hurt because of me too?"

She whispered again, her eyes narrowing as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.

Leonid slowly relaxed his clenched fists. He raised his hands gently, as if about to cup Charlotte's tear-streaked cheeks in his palms…

But Alia's voice cut through the moment like an arrow:

"You really are dramatic!"

Leonid's hand froze midair, and his eyes narrowed as he turned toward Alia. The last thread of patience vanished from his face.

"Cooperating with the police or with us isn't that hard. So why don't you just tell the truth? Huh? Or do you enjoy the little role you've assigned yourself?"

"Alia, shut your mouth!"

Pyotr intervened quickly, but Alia shook her head, frustration boiling over.

"I can't keep doing this, Leonid, you—"

But she didn't finish.

Without warning, Leonid lunged at her, grabbing her by the collar with brutal force. His clenched fist, veins bulging like serpents beneath his skin, revealed the fury he had been holding in.

He hissed in a low, venomous whisper, as if expelling rage between his teeth:

"I swear, I'm barely holding myself back…"

His pale blue eyes flared, burning with a fierce intensity, pinning Alia like a predator sizing up its prey.

"If you don't want to die, then leave. Now."

"Leonid, no!"

Charlotte's voice rang out behind him trembling, desperate. She rushed to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind, trying to hold him back with the last of her strength.

"What she said… it's not wrong, but it's not the full truth either. Please, calm down."

Pyotr, for his part, stood frozen in place for a moment. His eyes widened, as if a memory was replaying before him. He saw the bulging veins, the wild stare, the tension in his stance…

He had seen this face before.

Leonid's face when he lost control.

Pyotr needed only a second to act. He stepped in fast, placing himself between Leonid and Alia, hands raised as though trying to soothe a wild beast.

"As you wish. We'll leave now."

His voice was calm, yet tight as a drawn string, ready to do anything to defuse the situation.

But Alia's eyes widened in shock, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. She refused to back down, refused to be pulled away while her words hung incomplete in the air.

"Take her. Quickly. And don't come back."

Leonid's voice was sharp razor-like. He shoved Alia forcefully, as if casting off a burden too heavy to bear. Then he gently pulled Charlotte forward and held her against his chest, patting her back softly.

He fully understood what Alia had meant but deep down, he also knew that forcing Charlotte to speak her pain would only hurt her more.

He was trying to protect her… even from the truth.

"Leonid!"

Before she could say more nonsense, Pyotr approached Alia quickly, grasping her wrist cautiously but firmly, and whispered in a low, warning-laden voice:

"Enough. You've said more than enough."

Alia was still staring in disbelief at Leonid and Charlotte, her eyes flashing with anger, but her lips trembled without a word.

Pyotr pulled her with a kind of harsh gentleness toward the door, his steps swift and steady, as if one more second there might set the place ablaze.

"You don't understand!"

Alia muttered as she turned, trying to wriggle free.

But Pyotr tightened his grip and said sternly, his voice filled with restrained fury:

"No, you don't understand."

He yanked the door open with force, then dragged her outside quickly, slamming it shut behind them with determination.

"Even though you're on the same team, you have no idea how dangerous that man is."

Alia's eyes widened, and she clenched her teeth tightly, then shoved Pyotr's hand away violently.

"You... how do you know all this?"

"You should've thought about what you did a moment ago, instead of asking that question."

Pyotr withdrew his hand coolly, then shot a sharp look at her before walking firmly toward the elevator.

"Wait! Stop and tell me!"

Alia's voice rose, speeding up, as if she could no longer bear Pyotr's evasiveness.

She followed him quickly, stopping beside him in front of the elevator, then turned to him with a glare full of resentment.

"This is classified information how did you find all this out?"

Pyotr remained calm, his eyes fixed on the closed elevator until its doors opened. He stepped in silently. Alia followed quickly, blurting out:

"Answer me!"

Pyotr replied in a calm voice, but there was a hint of provocation in it:

"And why should I tell you?"

"Stop answering my questions with more questions!"

Alia shouted in frustration, her eyes sparking with fury.

But Pyotr remained unmoved, simply sighing as he turned his face away:

"I don't feel like telling you right now... Stop yelling, and learn some patience."

He paused, then glanced at her from the corner of his eye and added coldly:

"After what you did to Charlotte Smith... you'd better learn patience for real. Because the situation is out of control, and it's your fault."

"What do you mean?"

Alia frowned, not grasping what he meant. It all sounded like nonsense to her. She was utterly convinced she was right.

The elevator stopped. Pyotr didn't look back. He stepped out with steady steps, ignoring her question as if it had never been asked.

Alia quickly followed, walking behind him, deeply frustrated by the cold way he kept ignoring her. Her steps were tense, and her eyes burned into his back with fury.

She narrowed her eyes and muttered bitterly:

"Leonid first, and now you? Why are you all so sympathetic toward her? She's just trying to draw attention."

Pyotr paused for a moment, then replied in a calm tone that did not hide his disdain for her words:

"You're wrong."

He looked at her seriously, his voice soft but firm leaving no room for argument.

"Charlotte is suffering inside. It's obvious her pain isn't an act."

He resumed walking out of the residential building toward the police car parked by the curb. When he reached it, he suddenly stopped.

He looked directly into Alia's eyes before getting into the car.

"You're different, Alia. Still inexperienced… and that's why you don't understand."