Crazy owner (5)
“One more word and I’ll kill you on the spot.”
-...
- Get out immediately!
I have, of course, heard that royals and nobles keep weapons in their bedrooms for self-defense. But where the hell did something that wasn't there a minute ago come from?
I swallowed hard as I met his emerald eyes that seemed to be looking straight at me.
“Then let me wash this dirty laundry.”
Straightening up, I grabbed the pile of collected laundry and ran out of the room. As soon as I closed the door behind me, my legs gave way.
I stopped in front of the door. My heart was beating wildly. I still felt the cold barrel of the gun pressing into my forehead.
He was going to shoot me.
How could I have missed this?
The local count was an absolute psycho.
Lenika was amazed when I handed her a basket of laundry. She was surprised that today I brought a full set, while usually it was just pillowcases and sheets.
Lenika was one of the few people I saw every day since I arrived at the mansion. Every morning she came to the annex to pick up old linens and bring me fresh ones.
“It looks like everything went smoothly this time.”
- Only thanks to the sir.
Now thanks to him I am having a hard time.
Although it was difficult to see my face through my bangs, I still tried to put on a smile. I had to pretend that everything was fine. I didn’t know how my words might sound if I complained about my difficulties. Lenika looked me up and down with newfound appreciation, then picked up her laundry and headed into the main building.
When she left, I sighed and stumbled back into the house.
That's all I can boast about this morning. Breakfast, as usual, was a disaster. I remembered how he pressed the gun to my forehead, and I couldn’t bring myself to eat. I didn't eat anything last night either.
Vincent also hadn't eaten anything since last night, and he didn't care. As soon as something is brought to him, he immediately throws it away.
So it was up to me to get rid of the food he didn't eat. I had a late breakfast, snacking on cold soup and bread. This was also a kind of relief. Previously, hunger was a natural phenomenon - I only ate what my father and Alicia left.
Yes, when I remember my life before coming here, I cease to be afraid of my master’s temper.
However, Vincent's cruelty did not end there. I was kicked out of the room without even being allowed to bring lunch. As soon as I entered the room, he started throwing things around. The attack began as soon as I opened the door, as if he had already prepared a plan in advance, and he did not stop for a second. I realized that I had made a mistake by putting the clock and vase in place when he was sleeping.
Every time he throws something, it breaks and I have to bring new ones to replace them. I once asked Isabella if it was dangerous and if they should be removed altogether, but she said that one day he broke everything and ended up scratching and cutting himself.
In short, he was self-flagellating. She said that although his nails were broken, and the scratches were torn and bleeding, he did not stop torturing himself, and after several such incidents she began to replenish the supplies in the room. Clearly he was letting off steam by throwing things. But this only made him feel worse.
And the same thing happened at dinner. This didn’t happen at lunch because I didn’t give him the things back, so there was nothing to throw, but the food still fell over, as usual. When I brought it again, the result was the same.
Now when I approach him, he first waves his hands away. And if I touch him, he threatens me with a pistol.
The next morning I couldn't even change my pillowcase. Throwing all my things aside, I shoved the food I brought in his face, finally deciding to feed him. Needless to say, I failed again.
Two days passed like this. When Isabella came to check on me, she looked at me strangely. As if she had already seen this coming. When she sighed and left, a chill ran down my spine - a clear warning that I should not hear her sigh anymore.
That day my patience reached its limit. I was no longer afraid of the gun he was pointing at me. I was much more frightened by my current situation. I remembered the words I heard recently: “People who previously served suddenly disappeared.” Don't ask about what happened to them.
The bowl rose into the air and landed on my head, the soup flowing down, dampening my hair. That was the end of the spilled dinner.
This no longer surprised anyone.
I wiped the soup from my face, returned to my room, fluffed my pillow and said to myself:
Let's see.
We'll see.
You're such a brute!
Having my anger under control, I got dressed, had breakfast, and hurried to Vincent's room at dawn. Once inside, I parted the curtains to illuminate the gloomy room, picked up the things that had fallen on the floor, and threw back the dirty sheets.
And then, as if on cue, the muzzle of the pistol touched my forehead.
– Did you want to die?
- Just shoot.
- What?
“If I continue to neglect you like this, I will eventually die, and this will not happen soon.” So it's better if I have the honor of dying at your hands. Just shoot me and be done with it.
-Are you crazy?..
“If you’re not going to shoot, then I’ll change the sheets.”
When I pulled the sheets, he got scared and grabbed it. For a moment our forces were equal. My opponent was a bloodthirsty patient. I snorted and pulled as hard as I could.
- You're crazy!
I grabbed the fresh sheets, leaving Vincent screaming.
- Get out of here!
- Okay, but only after I finish my work. Now, could you please stand up so I can get this over with and leave quickly?
I pushed past Vincent, who was about to scream again, and pulled the covers up. It fell to the floor along with the bedding. I pretended not to notice anything, took off the bed linen and changed it. Then I quickly changed the pillowcase.
For a moment he stared into space, stunned, but then came to his senses and rolled over.
- You! – he said, but didn’t continue.
- I'll bring you breakfast.
The floor was littered with things, I wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t do anything with them, so I put the food I brought in front of the farthest door. I walked away, deliberately walking loudly, and then returned with the food left in front of the door.
Vincent felt the floor, then climbed onto the bed and sat down. I grabbed the sheets as he tried to wrap himself in them again, and handed him the spoon.
- What are you doing?
- I feed you.
- I won't eat.
He threw the spoon on the floor. I watched as she hit the floor and bounced to the side, then grabbed another spoon. I knew this would happen, so I took a few more spares.
– I don’t know how old you are, but you behave like a child.
“Do you really want to die by my hand, that’s why you’re acting so impudent?”
The gun was still in his hand. I watched him fiddle with it before turning my gaze back to Vincent's face.
- You can’t see. Do you think you can shoot me?
- My fingers are fine.
“You must be confident in your accuracy.”
- I'm a good shooter.
Wow, I thought, and without thinking twice, I knelt down in front of him, placing a bowl of soup on them. I scooped some up with a spoon and brought it to the corner of his mouth.
- Open your mouth and let me feed you.
- Take it away!
Vincent swung, but I was quicker, grabbed the bowl and dodged back. He was frantically looking for something to throw, but I had already put everything away after yesterday’s attack.
Realizing that there was nothing to throw, Vincent clutched the gun tighter. The back of his hand tensed, but he didn't even think about shooting.
I brought the spoon to his lips again.
- Here, say “ah-ah.”
“Why don’t you put it away right now?”
“One spoon and I’ll take it all away.”
- I won't eat. Take it away.
- Just one spoon, please. Or do you want to eat it yourself?
- I said, take it away, get out!
– You can’t chew?
-...
“You’re an adult and you can’t even put food in your mouth without doing something wrong.” – I added sweetly, and Vincent swallowed.
I didn't stop there and offered to show him how to use the jaw if he wanted.
Suddenly he kicked the bowl on my lap and it rolled across the floor with a loud thud. I squinted as the bowl rolled and tipped upside down.
This time I couldn't control my anger.
– You are afraid of me, aren’t you?
- What?
– I asked you if you are so afraid of me that you cannot even eat one spoon. Why do you think I feed you? Are you that big? Oh yes, Mr. Great Man, the owner of this large family.
- What are you doing?
– I’m giving you a lecture.
The reason I endured all this time was because his heart was sick.
From the moment he lost his sight, he did not always sit in his room. When Vincent first became blind, he went about his daily affairs as if nothing had happened, listened to the butler's voice and did everything as if he could see, and then several more incidents occurred.