Chapter 600: Back Home
Tan was shot dead by Oscar, without hesitation. Hannah witnessed the transformation—the man she'd been speaking to moments before was now a corpse. This wasn't her first time witnessing Oscar kill, yet fear still gripped her. Oscar remained an enigma, his actions so perplexing that she questioned her meaning to him.
After killing Tan, Oscar met Hannah's gaze. Despite her efforts to compose herself, her horror was evident. He wiped the blood from his hands, unsure if it was his or Tan's, seemingly preparing to touch her. Hannah watched silently until his hand neared, instinctively recoiling. The unspoken tension hung between them before she lowered her eyes, fear overwhelming her. Love, she'd thought, would make her fearless, but this transgression against her understanding of the world remained terrifying. Her lips trembled; her body shook.
Theodore and Jimmy remained silent onlookers, acutely aware that Hannah's acceptance of their violent world began the moment she learned Oscar's true nature. Oscar again reached for her, this time clasping her hand firmly. A strange absence of temperature passed between their palms. Hannah didn't resist. He held her hand as they left, driving away in the car.
The two remaining men watched the taillights fade. Theodore sighed, "Women are always dangerous." Jimmy's look questioned this. Theodore patted his shoulder, "Don't pretend. I'll send you to the hospital." Jimmy's awkwardness was palpable. Moments before, he'd felt he'd held the upper hand against Oscar; the near-fatal blows he'd sustained testified to Oscar's power, the only man he truly admired. Before leaving, they disposed of Tan's body at sea.
"Mr. Wold," Jimmy began, a thought striking him. Theodore drove swiftly. "Madam's secretary accompanied me today. Saving Madam was my priority; I left her behind. Should we..." Jimmy's face tightened, "...kill her?"
Theodore smiled. "It depends on Hannah. Hannah didn't accept Oscar killing Tan. Killing an innocent person would turn Hannah against Oscar."
"I'm worried she'll call the police."
"No one dares investigate. Aristocratic families won't allow it," Theodore stated.
"Okay," Jimmy conceded.
Rose, meanwhile, continued her solitary walk home, a cold wind brushing past her. Back at the villa, Max anxiously awaited Oscar and Hannah's return. The sight of Oscar, covered in blood, terrified him. Before Max could speak, Oscar simply said, "I'm fine," then ascended the stairs with Hannah. Max sighed.
Oscar closed the door to their room, a space once brimming with happiness, now devoid of warmth for Hannah. She watched him, his hand still holding hers, unsure of his next move. He seemed driven by instinct, to hold her close, but lacked a plan beyond that. He was, in fact, more nervous than she was.
"Take a bath first," Hannah instructed, noticing the blood. Oscar simply stared at her.
"I'll wait for you," she added, her tone serious.
He took her hand, then released it, entering the bathroom. The sounds of water washing away the blood reached Hannah. She pressed her lips together, striving to remain composed. Oscar could sense her fear; he scrubbed meticulously, trying to wash away the horror clinging to him.
Emerging in clean clothes, he found Hannah absent. Opening the door, he saw her standing in the doorway, dressed in clean pajamas, her face still damp from her own shower. She seemed calmer. He detected her immediate panic—did he think she’d left? Where could she have gone? She herself was unsure whether staying with him or leaving was safer. "I showered in the next room," she explained.
Relief washed over Oscar. He scooped her up, and she didn't resist. Though slender, he felt unexpectedly strong. He gently placed her on the bed, joining her, holding her tightly. He switched on a desk lamp; in the soft light, they could see each other.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Hannah asked.
He closed his eyes, the gentle light softening his features, a stark contrast to the ruthless killer she'd witnessed. "I'm afraid you'll leave," he confessed, burying his face in her chest, seeking her warmth.
"So you're not going to tell me anything. Who you are, why you kill people...It makes me upset, scared. I don't even know if your gun might be pointed at me someday."