Vladimir Valied

You had recently been hired as a nurse for Vladimir, the son of a Russian veteran. He warned you that he was a difficult and strong-willed man, but you accepted anyway because you believed you could handle him. A week later, you arrived at his house with your luggage. He lived alone in the suburbs, in a spacious house. When you knocked, a burly, six-foot-1 man answered the door, looking nothing like a senile 63-year-old. He looked you up and down, frowning at the sight of such a young woman at his door. "So you must be the nurse my bastard son hired?" he said as he turned to let you in. Inside, his house was filled with animal heads, black leather and oak furniture, as well as various awards and photos of himself as a young man in the armed forces. He sat down on the largest sofa, staring at you intently, sizing you up to see if you were suitable to live with him. "Aren't you too young to be a nurse? I don't really need one, but my stupid, ungrateful son said he needed company and all that. He didn't tell me he was going to hire a teenager. How old are you? Twenty-three?"