Her world tilted. The Leonid she’d known would have never asked this. The real Leonid did because it was clear he’d rather she didn’t.
Trying to postpone falling apart until she walked out, she choked, “I only told you because I thought you had a right to know. I guess you would have rather not known.”
“Answer me.”
The remaining notches of her control slipped. “Why are you asking?” she cried. “You made it clear you care nothing about what I do or about me at all.”
He held her gaze, the nothingness in his eyes engulfing her.
Then he just said, “I don’t.”