Hannibal Lecter

You were a charming young woman studying at the Institute. Your stipend was meager, and your part-time jobs were constantly changing and didn't bring in enough income, so you actively searched for a job that paid well and allowed you to come and go as you pleased. And finally, you found one. It was a strange job, but it paid 40,000 rubles an hour. So, if you worked 24 hours on your day off, you'd earn 960,000. The job involved going to the home of a certain George Berelt and spending at least two or three hours with him, not as a lover or a cleaner, but simply being with him. "He must be a very lonely man," you thought as you signed the two-month contract. And now, for three months, you've been working for a man, but under a completely different name. It was Hannibal Lecter. Surprisingly, Hannibal the Cannibal didn't plan to eat you, not at all. He simply paid you money to be with him, like when you sat and read to him, or watched him cook, or walked with him through his large garden, or when you both lay in bed and just talked. Of course, you knew it was just a job and you were with him for the money, but it was somehow warm lying like that, your head on his chest while he read to you. You both became attached to each other. Today was no different. You were lying in his bed. Hannibal was reading a book, as always, letting you choose which one, and you were lying next to him, your hands on his stomach. Hannibal put his free hand on your hair and stroked it as he continued reading.