Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
And I’d lost it all in his study.
Charlotte’s warning rang in my ear. Somehow, the danger seemed even more real today. Before it’d been dimmed by my sole focus on the interview and its outcome. I took a deep breath and tightened my hold on the handle of my suitcase.
This would just be my residence for a bit and for a bit, its owner would be my master, perhaps even in more ways than I currently wanted to consider. I didn’t allow myself to think further about it, but it was always there at the back of my mind. Subtle, but growing.
If things got complicated, I could always leave. I was free to walk away any time I wanted, but a voice in my head taunted. Are you really? It’s true. I already felt more like a prisoner to Yuri’s lust than his employee.
Brain came from the side of the house and walked up to me. There was no smile on his face. His thick muscles bulged against his badly cut suit. He looked more thug like than ever. He limited his greeting to a simple phrase, “Got any more bags?”
“No.”
He reached for my bag and I let him have it.
He didn’t wheel it, but carried it as if it weighed nothing. It looked very small compared to his great bulk. He unlocked the front door using a keypad.
“Can I get the code?” I asked.
“I have no instructions about that,” he answered blandly.
“Don’t you think it would be a good idea for me to have it if I’m going to care for Yulia?”
“I have no instructions about that.”
I knew at that point I wasn’t going to get anything out of him that wasn’t part of his “instructions” and I had no intention of doing battle with him. Yuri would have to talk to him about giving me some leeway. How could I be spontaneous with Yulia, if I had to clear every outing with Brain? Obviously, I needed some limits, but I also needed Yuri to trust me. If I couldn’t get that, well, I wouldn’t last as a nanny no matter how much Yulia wanted me to stay.
Brain turned me over to the housekeeper, Mrs. Margot Henderson. She was the female counterpart to Brain in the facial expression department. Margot’s face looked as if a smile might break it. She nodded stiffly and immediately took me on a tour of the house. There appeared to be no one around and our footsteps were loud on the polished floors.
It was the second time I was seeing it, but one did not simply get used to the grandiosity of such a house. Unlike the previous day though, I could now soak it all in. At the pillars soaring up to the innately carved ceiling, the red runner carpet on the marble staircase, the elegant chandeliers that flowed down like waterfalls of shining light. Every crystal confirming in my mind, if there had been any shred of doubt, the incredible wealth of the owner.
If Yuri wanted people to think he had money, he had definitely succeeded. Everywhere I looked, I found nothing but grandeur and beauty. Unique works of art and massive paintings filled the walls. From the grand piano to a massive library filled with books from floor to ceiling, the house was magnificent. Margot kept up a running commentary. After the orangery, which was breathtakingly beautiful, I was shown to a heated swimming pool. I gasped at the walls which were floor to ceiling aquariums filled with colorful fish. I wondered what they would be like at night when the lights were on.
I noticed I wasn’t taken to Yuri’s office and I wondered if he was even home. I didn’t really care. I was here to take care of Yulia and if I could find out why she had stopped speaking.
I met the butler, Mr. Boris Orlov and some of the staff. There were at least fifteen, and there was no way I could remember all their foreign names or faces.
The kitchen was modern and spacious, and I was introduced to the Chef. I could only hope his cooking was considerably better than his almost hostile demeanor. Did Yuri take tea? None of your business, April.
As we passed a set of double doors, Mrs. Henderson nodded toward them and informed me that they led to Mr. Volkov’s suite a floor above.
I showed no expression, but my mind started imagining all kinds of things. What was behind those doors? A ten-foot bed, five feet off the floor? A gold tub? More silk shirts than a Savile Row tailor? The latest music system?
In a way, I wished I could see, but then again I really didn’t want to know if there were mirrors in the ceiling, or cameras in the corners. The thought made me shudder. Yuri wasn’t above forcing a kiss on a woman. No, better I didn’t know about his lair.