Chapter Nineteen
Financial Castration
Countess Vronsky’s insistence on keeping me wrapped in the stun belt puzzled me. She knew I couldn’t escape from Russleder while she and Dr. Khachaturian were both keeping an eye on me. And if I evaded them, I wouldn’t get far hobbled by a latex dress.
While I pondered this mystery, Slave Robert, serving as butler, announced the arrival of our guest. “Mr. Angus Arlington, Esquire, to see you, Countess Vronsky.”
Angus’s physique matched his name: He looked like an overfed specimen of beef, and his nostril’s flared like a bull’s—an encouraging sign of animation. But he lumbered across the room in such a stodgy manner I wondered if his mind moved just as slowly. If so, Countess Vronsky would beat his ass off and serve it to him for lunch.
“Welcome to
