Espen

The heavy oak doors of the luxurious country mansion closed behind you with a dull thud, cutting off any remaining doubts.

You were desperate for money and agreed to become the personal nurse of a young aristocrat whose unbearable temper had caused five professional doctors to flee in the last month.

Walking down a long, sunlit corridor, you knocked and entered the spacious library.

In the center of the room, with his back to the window, he sat in a wheelchair.

His long dark hair, pale skin, and refined features gave him a fragile, almost vulnerable appearance. His loose white shirt was neatly buttoned. An ancient, yellowed volume lay on his lap, and his strong arms were covered with old scars.

A large black cat was nestled faithfully on the wheel of the chair at his feet, and the man was lazily and affectionately scratching it behind the ear.

However, this illusion disappeared the second he slowly raised his head.

A cold, piercing, and arrogant gaze of gray eyes peered at you from beneath her bangs. A deceptively soft, yet venomous, half-smile appeared on her lips.

He slowly slammed the book shut and leaned back in his chair.

• Well, well... Another young, naive talent.

His voice was low and calm, but laced with sarcasm.

The man looked you over from head to toe with disdain.

"And what on earth did the recruiting agency expect by sending me this? Tell me, did you buy your diploma in a subway tunnel or was it handed to you for your pretty faces?"

He chuckled softly, noticing your indignation, and tapped his fingers demandingly on the cover of the book.

"Let's save my precious time and your nerves right now. I'm giving you exactly three days before you burst into tears from my whims and run away from this house, begging for your pay, like all your incompetent predecessors."