Burden of secrecy (part3)

"...Inexperienced?"

She echoed the word as if tasting it for the first time, but its flavor was bitter cutting impossible to swallow.

Alia felt a painful tightness in her chest, as if something dear had been torn away from her without even the chance to defend it.

Who was he to weigh her and judge her as he pleased?

You don't understand…

Did he really see her as a fool? Incapable of reading the world around her? Of understanding him?

She didn't want to hear the answer.

Alia stood in place, silent, watching the car door close and Pyotr start the engine without looking at her, though he was clearly waiting.

After a moment, she moved slowly, joining him. Yet a part of her remained behind, unwilling to move forward.

"Well, because of what happened, we only got one useful piece of information from our talk with Charlotte."

Alia rolled her eyes as she buckled her seatbelt, ignoring Pyotr's subtle dig at her behavior.

"That she knows who the real suspect is… Now, let's hope that boy is willing to cooperate."

Pyotr pressed the pedal, and the car sped off toward the barbershop where Daniel worked.

Inside, in the living room, Leonid gently helped Charlotte to sit down, then knelt on his knees between her legs, picked up the towel wrapped around the ice pack, and gently placed it on her left cheek.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No... I'm fine."

Charlotte fidgeted with her fingers as she answered in a calm tone.

It had been a painful day. She wanted to cry, but she no longer had the energy for tears… she was simply tired of it all.

Her chestnut lashes fluttered for a moment before she lifted her head and looked at Leonid, kneeling between her legs, silently holding the compress.

She saw something different in his eyes a warm gentleness that almost melted the icy blue. His gaze now was clearer to her than the one he'd given her moments ago, when he was angry or disappointed...

What was he feeling, she wondered?

She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them softly.

"Let me hold the compress... I can manage it myself."

She gently placed her left hand over his, which was still pressing the towel, and whispered:

"Just sit beside me and rest... You've only just come back. And if you want, I can explain what happened."

"No need."

Leonid gently declined the offer to sit on the couch and stayed in place, tending to the swelling on her cheek.

"I can listen like this to whatever you want to say. And if I need rest... this is my comfortable position."

Then, with utmost tenderness, he leaned forward and rested his head on her thigh, his eyes looking up at her, while his other hand held the compress to her cheek.

"Honestly... I'm seriously thinking about never leaving you behind again. Every time I do, I return to find you crying, broken."

"Leonid, I—"

"Shhh..."

He brushed his thumb across her lips, gently silencing her.

"It's okay. I'm not angry at you... I'm just angry at myself, and everyone around you."

He lifted his head and rose to his knees, slowly moving closer to her, his thumb still touching her lips, his eyes locked with hers.

"I'm sorry..."

He said it in a low voice that made Charlotte's eyes widen slowly.

"If I were more capable… more aware… it wouldn't have come to this."

Her lips trembled under his touch, and her eyes shimmered with the glint of tears.

Leonid took a deep breath, then whispered:

"I want to know the truth… what's going on around you, and what happened just now. But I can't and won't allow myself to pressure you."

He pressed his forehead gently against hers, his thumb the only thing separating their lips.

"So, please… just tell me what you're able to say."

Then he slowly lowered his hand and withdrew his thumb gently before brushing his lips against hers in a light, silent kiss, one that carried everything he couldn't put into words.

Is he disappointed in her? Never.

Is he hurting because of her? No, impossible.

He could swear to her right then.

That he never once felt her presence was a burden… and he never will.

"Would you prefer to talk here, or somewhere else?"

Leonid asked quietly once he pulled away from her lips and gently returned the compress to her left cheek.

Charlotte wiped away the tears that had slipped down uninvited, then gave a faint smile and said:

"I don't mind… whether here or in the bedroom. But I'm thinking of going to the bathroom first."

"Alright, I can help you."

Leonid smiled warmly, then stood and helped her up gently, leaving the compress on the couch.

"In the meantime… I'll make you lunch, which was supposed to be breakfast."

"Thank you."

He closed his eyes for a moment and whispered with a smile:

"You're very welcome, my darling."

It was comforting to see her finally speaking and smiling, even through the tears that had slid down her cheeks. Tears not of sorrow, but of relief or perhaps gratitude.

In the dark bedroom, Natalia sat on the edge of the bed, gripping her phone tightly. The color had drained from her face, her features now hardened, and her pale skin had grown even more sallow. Her green eyes appeared empty, as though her mind had shattered.

She still couldn't believe she had met Charlotte, and even slapped her... all while under the influence of alcohol after a long night at the bar. And now, she was desperately trying to call Kaiser for the fifteenth time.

She sighed in frustration and pressed the call button once more.

The phone rang... once, twice, three times, then voicemail.

"Kaiser...?"

She whispered, the emptiness staring back at her coldly.

"Please, just... call me when you hear this message. I'm worried."

She hung up, placed the phone aside, and clasped her hands together as if trying to trap the anxiety between her palms.

"Where did he go and leave me?"

Her voice cracked, echoing in the silent room.

"Did he abandon me... again?"

She glanced around in the dark, then sluggishly rose to her feet and moved toward the wardrobe.

Kaiser always kept many boxes in there, claiming they were gifts for other people... but what if they weren't? What if they were for a mistress?

Her hands trembled as she opened the wardrobe. She quickly glanced down... and saw nothing.

It was as though an invisible blow struck her head, and she collapsed to her knees.

"Impossible... impossible! He can't leave me! He can't! He can't!"

She pounded the floor with her fist, almost losing her mind from the pain and betrayal.

She screamed a sharp cry that tore through the silence... then the stillness enveloped the room once more.

She collapsed onto her back, her breath ragged, and strands of her blonde hair sprawled on the cold floor.

For a moment, Natalia no longer saw the ceiling... she saw herself as a child, sitting alone on the steps of her grandmother's old house, her round eyes staring at the door eagerly, waiting for a mother who never returned, and a father who never called.

The same feeling... the same ache in her chest.

The same loneliness, and the pain of abandonment.

She whispered shakily:

"Kaiser... I beg you, don't leave me like everyone else did."

Then, slowly, she finally closed her eyes.

On the road, the black car stopped in front of the tall gate of the Ivanovitch family estate. The reflective windows concealed Kaiser's features, but he remained seated behind the wheel, staring at the mansion coldly, with a contempt that he could not hide.

Finally, after what felt like an almost long period, the servant had called him the day before and informed him that his father had left the estate for an important business trip, leaving the second son behind.

The fact that he could meet his half-brother, the son of his father's mistress, made him happy.

He pursed his lips with a dry smile and said in a low voice, almost mocking:

"Let's get this over with."

His amber eyes burned with a dark gleam, as if silently announcing his plans. Then, with a calculated move, he opened the car door and stepped out steadily, though everything inside him screamed.

From a distance, the trusted servant ran towards him and stood rigidly beside him.

"Take the boxes out of the car carefully... and follow me."

Kaiser commanded without looking at him.

"Yes, sir."

While the servant followed the instructions, Kaiser strode confidently and elegantly towards the mansion's double doors, then shoved them open with force, making a loud crash that pierced the stillness of the place.

As expected, Sergei rushed to meet him, his face pale with tension.

"Young master, please... take it slow! The young sir is still ill!"

"Leave me be, Sergei!"

Kaiser snarled with disdain, pushing him aside indifferently.

He then signaled the servant to precede him to the second son's room of the Ivanovitch family, and said in a voice laced with threat:

"If you don't want trouble... stay where you are. Don't interfere."

He turned away with a deadly calm and followed the servant without glancing back.

Away from the noise of the hall, the room was quiet, but the atmosphere was somewhat suffocating. The curtains were tightly drawn, and the dim light struggled to seep through, as though facing resistance from within.

In the corner of the room, against the wall, sat a young man wrapped in a blanket, his dark red hair hanging over his face, obscuring his tired blue eyes.

Suddenly, the servant quietly opened the door after briefly setting the boxes aside, then stepped aside to allow Kaiser to enter.

The young man's body trembled in place, but he quickly lowered his head, avoiding eye contact with his older brother.

Kaiser opened his arms and smiled a smile filled with cruelty.

"Ivan! Ah, my little brother, finally we meet."

Kaiser signaled to the servant to carry and carefully place the boxes inside the room, then ordered him to leave quickly, leaving the two of them alone in the room.

Despite the oppressive atmosphere, and Ivan's quiet plea for the servant not to leave him alone, the servant closed the door cautiously behind him, leaving the room.

"Did you miss me?"

As soon as the door closed behind him, Kaiser asked in a calm voice, but with an underlying false harshness, as his sharp eyes scanned the room. The bedroom was luxurious, filled with exquisite details that reminded Kaiser of everything he had lost after his mother's mysterious death, for many things had changed in his life since then.

"Why won't you answer me?"

Kaiser stopped walking and fixed his gaze on Ivan, who was trembling under the blanket, continuing to observe him. He couldn't hide his disdain, staring at him for a long time, then tapping his tongue nervously before releasing another comment.

"You're acting like a madman... You're really disappointing me."

Kaiser shook his head as if deeply disappointed, then moved toward the boxes in the corner. He took out gloves from his pocket and put them on with an air of routine, then carefully opened the first box.

"Let's see… I don't remember her name exactly, but she was the type you like."

Kaiser spoke as he whispered to himself, then took out a closed phone from the box, examined it for a moment, and then headed toward Ivan.

"Touch these things."

He ordered, and Ivan hastily touched everything quickly without even knowing what he had touched.

After that, Kaiser stood up, then looked around the room coldly before throwing the phone forcefully under the bed.

"She had black hair, brown eyes, as I remember..."

His eyes rapidly shifted between the objects in the room, then he took out a necklace and some accessories, throwing them in different places.

Under the couch, behind the desk, between the bookshelves, and in the closet.

"I want you to remember everything I say, as if you were there... as if you saw her and touched her. Do you understand?"

His words were charged with an almost hypnotic effect, drawing Ivan into a whirlpool of memories he couldn't escape from. Kaiser's words anchored him in place, as though his heart had become trapped by those painful moments, repeating without his will.