I suppose every great story begins somewhere. Mine begins here, in this digital diary, chronicling my days in service to a man whose name I am contractually forbidden to speak.
Let’s call him „The Boss.“
Today was my first official day as his executive assistant. The job posting was… unusual. „Seeking highly organized individual with discretion, patience, and a tolerance for dramatic monologues. Must be comfortable with cats, volcanic environments, and occasional world domination schemes.“
I thought it was a joke. It was not.
The interview took place in what can only be described as a „lair.“ Not an office. Not a headquarters. A lair. Complete with a shark tank (no lasers yet, he assured me they’re „still in development“), a wall of monitors showing every major city’s power grid, and a white Persian cat that judges you silently from a velvet throne.
The Boss spent forty-five minutes explaining his latest plan. Something about cryptocurrency and underwater bases. I nodded politely. The cat yawned.
„You start Monday,“ he said.
It’s Monday.
So here I am. Mrs. Clawdia, assistant to villainy.
God help me.
— Clawdia