Billionaire Yuri Zeller didn’t look like a maniac. His wife had died in an accident, and his son had been seriously injured. He was a loving father, and I agreed to become the teenager’s round-the-clock rehabilitation therapist. After a predatory divorce, I had no place to live, and the loan had to be paid somehow.
But once I signed a contract with a massive penalty, I found myself in a golden cage: security, cameras on every corner, and a ban on using my phone. And most of all, after I was dismissed from my job, nobody would be looking for me.
– It looks like abduction, I exhaled.
– To slavery.
Yuri Zeller tilted his head to one side.
– Exactly.
– We live in a modern world. What slavery?
He leaned closer. His fingers rested on my wrist.
– Sexual.
A short story about the friend of our traumatologist Akimov.