Léana tried to get up, wanting to argue, but Klaus interrupted her with a glacial voice that left no room for contradiction.
"Stop your lies. You only love yourself and your own pleasure."
Léana's tears were now flowing silently and abundantly. She remained on her knees, head lowered, shoulders shaking with held-back sobs.
"That's… that's not true…"
"Oh really?" Klaus retorted, his tone laden with icy contempt. "Then tell me… what did you want us to do not long ago? When you were grinding against me moaning my name? When you were trying to make me forget the woman I loved only a few days after her death?"
Léana didn't answer. She clenched her fists on her bare thighs, tears falling onto the floor.
Klaus continued, his voice growing harder:
"You didn't even take my feelings into account. The moment Katrina died, you got dressed up, made yourself pretty, put on makeup… to get me back into your bed. I was talking about Katrina. I was showing myself weak, broken, destroyed by her death… just to see if you'd feel even the tiniest bit of guilt. But no. On the contrary. It made you happy. I've always been your sexual toy. The one Katrina 'stole' from you. So any means were justified to get me back."
Léana finally lifted her head. Her face was contorted by despair, sobs, and ragged breathing.
"I didn't kill her… I swear… It's true that I was jealous. Because I love you. I realized it when you started pulling away from me. That's when I understood that… with you… it was more than just sex. I wanted to win you back. But I never did that. I never asked Vareck to attack you so we could kill Katrina…"
Klaus looked at her for a long time, his face closed off.
"Tell me yourself… if you were in my place… would you really believe everything you just said?"
Léana didn't answer. She lowered her head again. The silence that followed was more eloquent than any reply.
"That's what I thought," Klaus concluded in a detached voice.
A desperate anger then seized Léana. She sprang to her feet, still naked, tears flowing freely, and screamed with all her strength:
"BUT WHAT DOES SHE HAVE THAT I DON'T?! HUH?! I'M BEAUTIFUL! YOUNG! I CAN GIVE YOU EVERYTHING A WOMAN CAN GIVE A MAN!"
Klaus, who was already near the door, turned slowly. His gaze was cold, almost weary.
"You think love is sex? Money? Beauty? Material things? Or even being young or old? If that's your idea of it… then I'm truly sorry for you."
He paused, his voice growing more serious, more broken.
"Love is deeper than that. I didn't fall in love with Katrina because she was beautiful. Or because she was good in bed. I fell in love with the woman who didn't throw stones at me when I acted badly. The one who, on the contrary, helped me become a better version of myself… for the people I love. Katrina loved me for who I was. The good and the bad. While you…"
He left the sentence hanging. Without another glance, he left the bedroom, crossed the living room, and walked out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
The moment the door closed, Léana collapsed completely. She crumpled to the floor, naked, arms wrapped around her knees, and broke into heart-wrenching sobs. All the tears she had held back until then poured out at once — long, burning, desperate. The silence of the house was broken only by her muffled cries and the chaotic beating of her shattered heart.