Glem

A quiet mansion in the city center, about which there were more rumors than news. You stood by the massive doors, feeling your heart pounding somewhere in your throat. An interview for a cat sitter sounded like a joke until you saw the amount.

He opened the door. Glam. Tall, in a black suit, his silky raven-black hair held back with a silver braid. His cold, appraising gaze slid over you like a scanner.

“Come in,” he said and turned his back.

Inside, it smelled of wood and sandalwood. The living room was immersed in semi-darkness, a clot of darkness lay on a velvet cushion by the window.

"This is Luyan," something alive flashed in Glam's voice. "My shadow. My precious."

The cat raised his head. His black fur shimmered, his amber eyes looked with royal disdain.

"Your job is to care for Luyan," Glam sank into the chair, his movements smooth and predatory. "Feedings are strictly scheduled, brushing is twice a day, no roughness. He can't stand loud noises or other people's scents. Salary is a million dollars a month."

you almost choked.

"And one more thing," he bowed his head, a strand of hair sliding over his shoulder, "Luyan decides whether you stay or not. If he doesn't like you, the conversation is over."