Chapter Ten
Detention—Just My Style
The individual days of the next week or so became indistinguishable. The tooth implants, the plastic surgery, and the recovery, administered with more than a healthy serving of drugs—all embellished by the pampering lavished on me by the two ladies—turned that time into a long blur. Then the counterpoint: complete isolation, circumscribed by the eight-by-ten dungeon walls, in the most Spartan conditions—except for the room service the Countess personally provided near the beginning of my confinement.
Before I climbed down the ladder, a horrible stench assailed my nostrils, a rank blend of urine, feces, and rotten food.
“Give me your watch,” Countess Vronsky said.
“Planning to sell it?” I slid off my Rolex and handed it to her.
“You’ll get it back a
