From Russia With Loathing

Part 13

I avoid Viktor for the next few days. I haven't showered or even brushed my hair. I have no reason to.

He doesn't want me to leave the apartment so I don't. I spend my days sleeping in till noon, watching tv, and sitting in an overstuffed chair in his office reading books.

I'm bored out of my mind.

I knew this place was going to be hell. I honestly just didn't think it would be this bad.

I have silently cried myself to sleep the last few nights. My eyes are puffy, and my face oily and gross. I know I look awful but at this point I honestly just don't give a shit. If he wants me to sit at home and be his little wifey, I'm going to sit at home and look like a complete mess.

When I finally decide to sit up in bed, I notice a note on the night stand.

Poker night
8
Here

I roll my eyes.

I was bad enough having him around but now I have to deal with multiple Russian assholes tonight.

I take a quick shower and wash all the grease out of my hair. I hate that talking a shower makes me feel a little better.

I get dressed in a clean pair of shorts and T-shirt.

It's noon when I walk down to the kitchen.

I jump and a small sound escapes my mouth when I notice someone standing at the island. I put my hand on my chest to slow my heart rate.

"I'm sorry I didn't know anyone was here." I say to the short older women.

She gives me a warm smile. "I had a feeling that boy forgot to tell you about me. I'm Marta, Mr. Viktor's housekeeper."

Marta has a thick Eastern European accent that I can't place. Ukrainian or Hungarian maybe? The old women walks around and gives me a big hug.

He has a housekeeper. That answers a lot of questions I had. The food. The cleaning.

How have I lived here for almost a month and not known she existed?

"I was so happy when Mr. Viktor told me there would be a young woman coming to stay. I know he get so lonely." She steps back to take a look at me, head to toe. She rubs my arms. "You are a skinny one. You not like my cooking? I keep asking and leaving notes to let me know what you like to eat, but no answer."

I instantly feel bad, like I insulted her. I want to slap Viktor for making this sweet women think I don't like her food.

A shiver runs down my spine when I think about what happened the last time I tried to slap him.

"No. No." I say apologetically to her. "You are a very good cook! I just haven't had much of an appetite lately."

She gives me a knowing smile. "Mr. Viktor don't tell me much, but I hear things. I see things. He a good boy. Bad temper, yes. But he can be sweet. He just not so good a showing it. He has been alone too long."

I smile back at her. She wouldn't be saying that if she knew what had happened in the closet.

"What are you cooking?" I ask, trying to change the subject.