The apartment gleamed with luxury—marble floors, plush couches, and a view that stretched across the city skyline. The man in crisp black suit sat back on the expensive leather couch, his posture relaxed but poised.
"Welcome, Mr. Ivanov. Please, take a seat."
He nodded, settling in smoothly. "Sure. I hope you aren't having any issues here."
Mr Carper shook his head lightly. "Of course not. You gave us such a great room in this luxurious apartment. We're grateful for that."
"That's good to hear." Ivanov smirked slightly. His voice dropping low.
What's with that face? Bruh. Sam thought, sitting in a corner and judging silently.
"Have some tea," Sam's mother said cheerfully, placing a warm cup on the table in front of him.
What the hell, Mom? It's already 11:30...! Sam thought, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Meanwhile Ivanov forced a tight smile. "Ah... sorry, not now. Next time for sure."
Sam could feel the weight of his mother's expectations in that single cup of tea. Just drink it, you rich human... he thought bitterly and barely moving. Arms folded tightly, legs pulled close, he tried to make himself as small as possible. His gaze flicked across the room nervously, avoiding eye contact at all costs.
But then it happened.
Their eyes met.
Sam froze. A heartbeat pounded in his ears as panic surged through him. Shit, our eyes met! His breath caught for a moment, but before he could look away, a warm smile curved on Ivanov's lips. "Ah... your son is still jobless?"
The question hung in the air, heavy and awkward. Mr Carper glanced at his son, who sat stiffly, his annoyance barely concealed.
"Damn moron... how long is he gonna stay like this?" Sam whispered, grinding his teeth in silence.
Ivanov watched quietly, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. Finally, he spoke.
"How about working for me?" he offered, voice calm but firm. "As my... PA."
They blinked in shock, taking glances from eachother before Mr Carper spoke in disbelief. "As your... PA...? But sir, how can he?"
The man in the suit didn't flinch. He only smiled faintly. "Think about it."
"It's better than doing nothing right?" He added with a hint of mockery as he glanced at Sam who was frowning.
"I mean... I can teach him. Everything as I like... So you don't have to worry at all." Ivanov murmured calmly, giving a reassuring squeeze on Sam's father's shoulder.
"Alright, now I have to leave." Ivanov added before getting up.
"Oh.. Thank you for coming. I'd definitely let you know after my son makes up his mind." Mr Carper said before glancing back at Sam. "Son, Go with him."
Sam brows furrowed, clearly pissed. He can go by himself...! Why me...!? –was clearly written on his face which got Ivanov chuckling. "It's alright. I'll be on my way then."
But only if that happened...
The elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, sealing the two in a confined, mirrored space. Sam stood rigidly near the buttons, hands shoved deep into his pockets, eyes fixated on the floor. His reflection stared back at him—shoulders tense, jaw clenched.
Ivanov leaned casually against the opposite wall, arms crossed. His suit was pristine, not a crease out of place, yet there was something in the way he looked at Sam—as if he found amusement in every twitch of discomfort.
"Why so grumpy?" he asked, his tone light and teasing.
Sam exhaled sharply through his nose. "At least it's better than putting on a fake smile always."
The words hung in the air, sharp enough to cut. For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then Ivanov threw his head back and laughed—a rich, genuine sound that echoed off the metal walls.
"Ah..." He wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling softly. "Touché."
Sam blinked, caught off guard by the reaction. He shifted uncomfortably, eyes narrowing. "What?"
Ivanov tilted his head, eyes glinting with something Sam couldn't quite place. "Aw, don't be so mad at your new boss... it makes me want to devour you whole."
The words were delivered smoothly, almost lazily, but the weight of them pressed down on Sam like a sudden drop in temperature. His breath hitched.
"W-What?"
Ivanov straightened, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve with meticulous precision. He didn't elaborate, didn't even look back as the elevator doors slid open with another gentle chime.
"See you soon, Sam," he said over his shoulder, voice warm but distant. And then he was gone, his footsteps fading down the marble hallway.
Sam remained frozen in place, the words looping in his mind like a broken record. Devour you whole.
"What the hell does that even mean...?" he muttered under his breath, eyes wide.
Is he in... cannibalism or something?