Chapter 18

Even in a provocative uniform that exposes her cleavage and thighs, the woman cannot shed her modesty. She sells forced smiles to men just like the prostitutes on stage, but she has no intention of seducing them... or rather, she doesn't even know how to seduce anyone. She is a naive girl who has just moved from the countryside, who doesn't even wear perfume, like Sally Bristol.

Her eyes, weary from the debauchery in front of her, resemble Sally's eyes as they look at him. Leon approached the woman standing stiffly against the wall. The woman, noticing his presence, opened her deep blue eyes wide and looked up at him.

"Um, what do you need?"

The reason for her stammering was unclear. Perhaps she felt intimidated, or maybe she sensed something impure about him.

Leon picked up a random box of candy from the tray and put it in his uniform pocket, then extended a bill. When the woman tried to give him change, he shook his head and asked,

"Is this your first time?"

"Excuse me?"

The woman's eyes widened again.

"Why... why are you asking that?"

Judging from her behavior, like a frightened mouse, it seemed she had misinterpreted his question.

"I mean, is this your first time doing this job?"

The woman's face turned bright red, confirming his suspicion. She averted her gaze and laughed awkwardly before asking,

"How did you know?"

"It's obvious."

He folded his arms and looked down at her silently. The woman, acting like a frightened mouse again, glanced at him.

"Do you need anything else?"

That's what the maid often says.

This might work.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

The woman, looking up at him and then down, answered in a small, mouse-like voice,

"...Yes."

At that moment, a twisted smile appeared on Leon's usually composed face.

Poverty is a swamp where one cannot firmly establish beliefs or love. They can easily be swayed by a mere breeze of money.

The woman, who had betrayed her fiancé and willingly followed him to the hotel for a sum of money that was less than half of what he had given the maid a few days ago, clutched the hem of her short skirt as Leon opened the door.

"Really, are you going to do it with me?"

The woman, her face flushed, asked. Leon only gave a hollow laugh.

Stupid woman. What are you so excited about? Nothing you expect will happen in here.

A young, rich, and handsome man spending a night with a poor and unremarkable woman and falling in love with her. She must be deluding herself, thinking that something from a third-rate romance novel could happen to her.

"Get in."

When he gave the firm command, the woman hesitated for a moment before entering. As Leon followed and roughly closed the door, a sinister atmosphere began to emanate from him.

The woman, perhaps realizing her situation, paced in front of the bed, unsure of what to do. Leon leaned against the wall opposite the bed.

"Take it off."

He loosened the knot of his tie and gave the order.

"I don't have time."

The woman, who had been frozen in place, only started to take off her old trench coat after Leon tapped his wristwatch. Leon watched as she undid the ribbons and buttons of her cabaret uniform, his gaze no different from when he watched the naked dancers on stage.

"Take it all off. Oh, leave the stockings on."

The woman, now in only a cheap rayon stocking, climbed onto the bed, but the man did not approach her.

She, covering her naked body with her hands and glancing at him, had no idea that the young officer, who looked like a movie star, was imagining another woman undressing in his mind.

Perhaps it's because she doesn't smell of blood.

Leon, looking at the woman who was exposing her flesh on the bed with a detached gaze, reached for a small table.

"Ah!"

As the sharp tip of the wine opener ruthlessly pierced his thumb, the woman made a disturbing sound. Leon, whose thumb was now bleeding, did not flinch.

He licked the blood that was flowing from his palm to his wrist and approached the bed. The woman, her eyes wide with fear, retreated to the corner of the bed.

Leon grabbed her chin forcefully, preventing her from escaping, and pressed his bloody thumb into her trembling, pale lips. Her lips turned red with his blood.

This might work.

His taste might not be for the maid. He could be excited by the smell of blood and the contempt in the woman's eyes.

'Yes, despise me. You're doing a great job so far.'

Leon, giving her a confident smile as she glared at him like a monster, bowed his head. His blood-soaked lips approached hers in one swift motion.

The smell of blood.

And a woman who despises me.

It will work.

It has to work.

"Um... Excuse me..."

It had to work...

He stopped just before their lips touched. Staying in the position of about to kiss for quite a while, the woman called out to him in a trembling voice. Leon released her chin and stood up.

"Get out, now."

***

He had only intended to borrow Winston's shower. But when he came to his senses, Sally was already filling the bathtub with hot water.

Not only that, she had lathered up with a lemon-scented soap and even lit a scented candle that Winston had never touched, placed in a corner of the bathroom.

It was a rather luxurious night for a poor maid and a spy who was always short on funds.

But Sally, being human, sometimes craved such luxuries.

'A glass of champagne would make it perfect.'

If only he could sneak one from the living room, but he had already taken off his clothes and gotten into the bathtub. He would have to remember to bring one next time he 'borrowed' the bathroom.

Sally's 'home' had no bathtub. It was just a room in a boarding house, after all.

Originally, her family had lived in a fairly large house. But after her father passed away, they received disapproving looks for living in such a large house for three people. When her mother and brother also passed away, Sally had to give up the house where she spent her childhood and move to a boarding house.

It was disappointing, but the house was a communal property.

"The leadership must set an example."

Jimmy's oft-repeated mantra provided some comfort.

"You can use our bathtub anytime. You're like family."

Jimmy's house had a bathtub with hot water facilities. It was a tempting offer, but he had never used it, sensing ulterior motives in Jimmy's smile.

'Not before the wedding night.'

Sally submerged herself up to her chin and let out a contented sigh. The tense muscles from hard work relaxed.

'I'll enjoy it a little longer before getting out.'

In the dimly lit bathroom, she closed her eyes and immersed herself in the hot water, soon feeling drowsy. She dozed off and accidentally buried her nose in the bubbles. Startled, she lifted her head and blew the bubbles away, causing small soap bubbles to float up.

'I should wash my body before the water gets cold.'

She reached for a sponge hanging from the end of the bathtub without thinking, but hesitated. This was something Winston had used on her naked body.

"Ah!"

She involuntarily imagined the sponge rubbing against that cigar and let out a scream, submerging her head in the bubbles.

Please, let the bubbles wash away the dirty memories from my mind.

"Phew..."

When she could no longer hold her breath, she quickly lifted her head out of the water. She wiped the water and bubbles from her face and panted, then froze as she opened her eyes.

"Who's this? Sally Bristol, with a higher nose than Lady Aldridge and more expensive than Kitty Hays, in my bathtub, and naked."

Winston was leaning against the opposite door of the bathtub, unbuttoning his uniform jacket.

'Damn it. This can't be happening. When did he come in?'

The 'how' was not a mystery. Winston had the master key to the annex, meaning there were no locked doors for him in this annex.

"Is it my birthday today? Or did Christmas come eight months early?"

He took off his jacket and took two steps toward her.

"I'm really sorry, Captain."

Sally quickly covered her chest with one arm and leaned toward the foot of the bathtub, trying to grab her clothes from the towel rack. Just as she was about to, Winston draped his jacket over them, covering her clothes.

Sally looked up at Winston, who was approaching, and his evil smile became more pronounced.

"Captain, what are you doing?"

She knew it was a stupid question but couldn't help asking. Winston, unbuttoning his shirt while loosening his black tie and tossing it into the laundry basket, replied casually,

"I'm getting into my bathtub."

"Can you please step out for a moment?"

"Since this is my bathroom, shouldn't you be the one to leave?"

"Yes, I'll leave. Captain, can you give me something to wear...?"

For some reason, Winston obediently reached under his jacket and pulled out Sally's clothes.

"Thank you..."

Her hand, extended to take the clothes, stopped in mid-air.