~~Daniil’s POV~~
“Alexa open the blinds.” In perfect sync, each pair of the black curtains – cascading from their rods to the Lux Touch tile – slid open, paving the way for the towering ceiling-to-floor windows to filter in light, in addition to the chandeliers dripping with crystals hanging above my king-sized bed. This grandiose black-themed bedroom almost half the size of a mini stadium made it necessary to automate it. I wouldn’t have wasted the precious first four minutes of my day walking from one end of my bedroom to another to get it started when I could easily do so on voice commands. “Brew me some coffee, Alexa” Hello everyone, meet the ousted Russian heir to the Smirnov’s empire – Daniil Smirnov.
Alexa couldn’t possibly bring me coffee in bed so I got off. Strategically, the coffee brewer was one of the few things I positioned close to my bed to allow me easy access. I loved to start my day with a steaming cup of coffee.
While sipping my favorite hot black coffee, I beheld my favorite image on the portrait in front of me, hanging on the wall above the brewer. Those were the two most exciting feelings I ever enjoyed, hence their proximity to allow me to savor them simultaneously. Her aesthetic blue eyes radiated the most even from the painting, I was quite ecstatic. Whenever I stared at the picture, it reminded me that she was always around, and kept close watch over me.
Exactly five minutes later, I took the last sip and went to the bathroom. My en suite bathroom adorned with black marble and gleaming chrome fixtures had two parts – for my skincare, and bath times consecutively – demarcated with a frameless glass. I would not trade my flawless skin for anything in this world. ‘I’m pretty high maintenance.’
I immediately got changed into one of my bathrobes in the cupboard hanging above me. Next to them usually laid hot towels I used before commencing the routine so I veered my eyes to get one but found the spot empty. “Godamnit…” I muttered out of peak exasperation. I always let a hot towel sit on my face for a few seconds before applying anything. There wasn’t any right now. It simply meant the lousy servants kept at my beck and call missed this.
Sluggishly, I walked out of the bathroom to the telephone a few paces just next to my bed. I dialed the number to the staff lounge and got a response in a split second.
“Hello, good morning, Young master.”
“Who’s the moron in charge of replacing my hot towels?”
“Um – sir – I – I’ll get you a new one,” an eloquent speaker stammered. He could tell from my tone that all wasn’t well.
“Get me a new one. But before that, send in the person responsible. Now.” I hung up. I needed to see just who had the temerity to halt my perfect timing and disrupt my schedule.
Exactly one minute later, my doorbell rang. “Alexa unlock the doors.” The doors came open. “You may come in,” Alexa announced. Unlocking the doors automatically meant someone was trying to gain access from outside as I couldn’t walk down there myself. Alexa needed to pass the message on my stead.
Did I mention I loved vases? I loved vases but without flowers. Flowers could be in anywhere around the house but definitely not within my reach or eyeshot. Caressing the ceramic one next to the telephone, I engaged the person who walked in. “Are you slacking off?” I asked, my voice with a mixture of supremacy and calmness.
“Sir I – I – ” It was a lady. I strengthened my grip on the neck of the vase. ‘She’s a lady, she shouldn’t be more than 5’8. Given the trembles her voice exuded, she couldn’t have walked that far from the door which is about five to six meters from my reach. If she walked in, a few inches are already covered which saves me some stress. My red oak double doors are of the finest quality, I want them untouched. If I should swing my arm, it would be…’ I rambled in my mind then simultaneously turning around, I swung my right arm, throwing the vase to her. As calculated earlier, due to the spontaneous nature of my actions, her reaction was slowed. Before she could dock, a part of the vase grazed her forehead before crashing on the door.
“Ah,” I sighed. The door wasn’t supposed to take any hit. ‘Oh well.’
Dragging my feet, I advanced toward her. “You had just one job.”
It was then it finally occurred to her she was in for the worst that morning. She panicked, her rigorously tremoring hands moved to the spot hit. “Ah!” she shrieked at the sight of blood on her fingers. She then turned around but her legs betrayed her at the worst timing, they couldn’t hold her up anymore, and she had to grovel. Unmindful of the broken pieces scattered all over, she groveled to the door and used its support to help herself up.
“Alexa lock the doors.” I increased my stride. “Lock. The. Freaking doors, Alexa!” I commanded fiercely when there wasn’t any action taken. If not for its complexity, she could have gotten away.
Grabbing her hair with my left hand, I pulled her out of the door. And using the other at my disposal, I sent her groveling again with resounding slaps across her cheek – the fourth one did the job. “You had just one job, you asshole! The actual fuck is wrong with you?!” I ran my fingers through my hair to clear my view.
The pathetic lady then went on her knees and started pleading for her life. I could hardly see the white part of her eyes as they were barely open, shedding tears profusely. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she begged desperately.
“You had just one job. You had just one job. You had just one job!” I chorused with ascending pitches, the last, coming forth as a roar. Using the sole of my foot, I hit her against her bloody forehead, to the cold tiles once again. Her movements retrogressed like she took quite the hit. I crouched to her level. “You’re all being rewarded handsomely for staying here. Why the hell are you still slacking?” I asked low-pitched. “Huh?!” My eyes were brimming with rage. I was vexed to the bones. I had a timetable for crying out loud! Everything I did had a specific time reserved for it. And yet this lowly shrimp in my presence dared to disrupt my perfect timing.
“Please pardon me,” she managed to say. Her face looked pale like she was gradually losing consciousness.
I stomped on her multiple times thoughtlessly. At the time, my mind was only shrouded with the thought of inflicting pain on her – reminiscent of a wild beast let loose. “Andrei is trying to gain access,” Alexa informed. “Argh!” I vented one last time before giving the final blow with a kick against her chin. “Unlock the doors, Alexa.”
My P.A. and chauffeur, Andrei hurried in with the hot towel in his possession. I retrieved it from him and threw it to the floor. After which I walked over it to clean the blood beneath my feet. “Wha – what’s going on here?” he asked in a befuddled state, trying to find his way through the shattered pieces all over.
“I’d need a new towel. Clean up this mess,” I ordered succinctly with no hint of remorse before walking out.
“She’s unconscious, Young master,” he informed tensely after bending to check on her near-lifeless body. ‘Screw you,’ I gestured, raising my middle finger to him, neither stopping in my tracks nor sparing them a glance.