"What's wrong with you?! I don't remember raising you this way!"
"Oh, my dear father... You're simply reaping what you've sown."
Leonid waved his hands, a sarcastic expression of exasperation painted on his face.
"Don't talk to me as if I'm the reason for your twisted character!"
Kozlov nearly threw something at Leonid, but stopped at the last second. What would be the point? No matter what he threw, it wouldn't hit him. His son had a talent for dodging everything… flawlessly.
As expected of his heir.
Agility, endurance, arrogance, and sharp wit… all traits he had planted in him himself. But the result? A distorted version of himself. One that brought him more shame than pride.
At that moment, a light knock on the door cut through the thick tension.
Leonid turned his head, raising a mocking brow:
"It's rare for Vladimir to be polite…"
Before he could continue his sarcasm, the door opened and Alia stepped in.
"Commander Kozlov, I'm sorry for being late… Actually… Am I interrupting something?"
She was supposed to hand in her report, but seeing Leonid and Kozlov together threw her off momentarily.
"No, not at all,"
Leonid answered coldly, while Kozlov nodded and gestured for her to come in.
"On the contrary, Alia… your presence is far better than someone else's."
Leonid raised his eyebrows at his father with a look of disbelief but swallowed his comment in silence. That didn't mean his frustration eased.
"Really? I'm not sure whether I should feel proud."
"You should. Trust me, I rarely compliment anyone."
Kozlov was pouring salt on the wound, while Leonid continued to stare his father down, as if trying to break through his sternness.
It was ridiculous to be upset over something so small… but he was. And of all people, why did it have to be in front of Alia?
He glanced at her for a second, then turned his face away.
"Oh, I see."
Alia felt Leonid's intense gaze, but she ignored it. She closed the door behind her and made her way to her seat.
"A historic moment… I should feel honored."
At last, she had her little revenge against Leonid's arrogance the same Leonid who abandoned her for a common woman and argued with her. Who would've thought his pride would be shaken like this?
She smiled sweetly and said happily:
"Thank you very much, Commander Kozlov."
"I'm praising you because you deserve it, no need to thank me."
Kozlov smiled, pleased with crushing his son's pride, then cleared his throat and shifted to a more serious tone:
"So, how was your day? And what caused your delay?"
As soon as his tone changed, Alia's smile faded, replaced by a serious expression. She began recounting what happened, trying to suppress her nervousness.
Across from her, Leonid crossed his arms silently, then turned and walked out without a word.
His footsteps echoed faintly in the hallway, reverberating off the walls until he reached the door and exited the building. Luckily, he didn't run into Vladimir. Maybe he had left earlier, or maybe he was still nearby… who knew.
He reached his car but stopped suddenly, as if something inside him held him back. He pulled a cigarette box and a lighter from his pocket with a habitual motion, then placed a cigarette between his lips. He lit it, inhaled deeply, and exhaled into the cold air like he was trying to release something unseen from his chest.
He stood for a moment, staring into the empty space ahead. The smoke faded slowly, just like the thoughts he had been suppressing since he entered the office.
He slipped the box back into his pocket with ease, then leaned his body against the car, tilting his head toward the grey sky. The clouds were heavy just like he felt.
It had been a while since he smoked with such passion…
He smiled bitterly and pulled the cigarette from his mouth before whispering softly,
"I forgot to submit my report."
He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. How long would he keep arguing with his father and forgetting the real issue?
"So childish,"
He described himself bitterly before placing the cigarette back between his lips. Then, he moved. He flung the car door open, got into the driver's seat, and started the engine. The car's roar was loud and grating… much like his thoughts.
Inside, Alia finished her report in front of Kozlov, who listened quietly with visible interest.
She concluded her speech with a soft sentence:
"That's all, sir."
Kozlov nodded and said:
"Good work. Despite that officer's attempts… you stood your ground. You may leave now."
Alia stood up calmly and was about to leave when she suddenly paused. Her gaze was drawn to a central screen displaying neatly written, colorful notes. She squinted slightly to make out the words and began reading silently.
Kozlov noticed her quiet curiosity and spoke:
"Charlotte Smith's notes. How do you feel about her?"
The moment she heard the name, Alia's brows furrowed, but she quickly regained her composure.
"What do you mean by 'how I feel about her'?"
"I mean exactly what I said."
Kozlov replied, relaxed in his chair, his voice as calm as always.
"In my opinion, her writing feels scattered. Vladimir thinks it's worthless."
Then he paused briefly before adding:
"As for Leonid… he believes every word, every line, is a mirror of Charlotte's true emotions."
The screen displayed several handwritten lines:
[Kaiser seems kind, but sometimes he's too violent... I hope he changes.]
[My dear father loves me unconditionally. That's what I realized today, and every day before it.]
Alia continued reading, brushing past some lines with indifference, until one of them made her stop as if it had touched something in her heart, despite her resentment toward the one who wrote it.
Kozlov said, gazing at the screen:
"Charlotte doesn't record events. She records feelings. She doesn't document what happened, but the moments her heart trembled."
Then he turned to Alia and added in a softer tone:
"And I think Leonid is right."
Alia didn't reply, but something crept inside her, something she didn't want to admit.
She took a step forward, silently turned off the screen, and said:
"I'll think about it later, sir."
Then she left, leaving behind a mix of curiosity, discomfort… and unspoken confessions.
She closed the door quietly behind her. Her steps were steady, but her mind was not.
Charlotte's notes were nothing more than beautifully written words, yet now they wrapped around her heart like an audio tape replaying itself insistently.
Not as proof of what happened but of what was felt.
Kozlov's words echoed in her mind, stirring something like sadness or refusal.
"Is that why you love her..?"
Alia whispered it barely audible but deep down, she wished those words could reach Leonid alone, even though he wasn't anywhere near.
She left the building in silence, walking slowly down the pavement toward her home. She considered hailing a taxi but changed her mind.
She preferred to walk, as if fleeing the weight of the thought more than the distance. She muttered to herself now and then, like someone searching the darkness for an answer never spoken.
Leonid was nothing more than a coworker. She knew nothing personal about him, aside from his record-breaking stats and stellar achievements.
But after working together on the same team, her feelings began to grow in the wrong direction.
And she fell in love… as though she had committed a forbidden crime.
Kozlov remained quiet, staring silently at the now-black screen. He wasn't upset by Alya's unexpected actions. Perhaps she simply wanted to grant him a moment of peace… to pull him away from his thoughts, if only briefly.
He sighed, then began gathering his belongings: the important files, a few scattered papers, and finally, he turned his gaze to the floor.
He was looking for the fountain pen he had earlier thrown at Leonid.
His eyes scanned the floor until he spotted it. He bent down, picked it up quietly, then stood and left the room without saying a word his mind still preoccupied.
Was Leonid truly serious about what he had said?
Kozlov shook his head in disapproval. It was impossible to believe his son could speak so irrationally… and yet, he was now speaking in a way that defied all reason, a way that brought only shame.
Perhaps it was time to reopen the discussion this time, not as a team leader speaking to a subordinate, but as a father speaking to his son.
Kozlov paused in front of the hallway window, staring into the void.
It had been a long time since their last real conversation… a true heart-to-heart.
After some thought, a troubling idea crept into his mind.
Does Leonid truly see him as a father? Or has he still not forgiven him?
Kozlov closed his eyes, trying to mask the emotion stirring within him as memories he had long tried to suppress came rushing back.
His wife's body, sprawled in a pool of crimson blood… Leonid's broken sobs, and that endless night after the tragedy, when his son's hair turned white under the weight of Marie Antoinette Syndrome.
If only he hadn't left the house that night, none of it would've happened.
Kozlov opened his eyes and exhaled slowly before he began to walk away.