Page 36 of The Cursed Chalice

She shakes her head and then looks back at me. “Anyway. Do I get the job?”

“This is about to be a fucking mess. A child and a nanny?”

I lean forward, my elbows on the desk, and hold her gaze. I need her to understand the gravity of what she’s stepping into. “You should know Nisa is not an ordinary child with a typical background. Someone trafficked her. I found her in one of my shipping containers. Hecate rescued her.”

Soraya's breath hitches, her hand clutches her throat. “Oh, my God.”

“I am telling you this not for sympathy but for the environment she needs,” I continue. My voice is firm and low. “She requires stability, patience and, above all, safety. She has seen the worst side of humanity. She was a victim, and she isnow under my protection. Your role, Ms. Maude, is to help her remember what it’s like to be a happy child.”

I watch Soraya’s shock morph into fierce, protective resolve on her face. Her reaction was what I had hoped to see.

“I understand. Thank you for telling me. I won’t let you down,” she says.

I sigh. Nothing is going the way it ought to go.

“Tell Hecate to set you up in a room next to Nisa.” I take out a notepad and write a figure and push the paper to her.

“That will be your monthly pay. Hecate will show you the garage. You can use any car.” I dig into my pocket and pull out my money clip.

She stands there with her eyes wide open, the paper in her hand.

“Is there a problem?” I ask as I take a credit card out of my clip.

“Um, this is more than what Hecate said I would be offered,” she states.

“What’s the problem? Would you like less?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No. This is fine.”

I nod. “Good. Take the card. Get the girl and yourself some clothing and supplies.”

She slides the card off the desk. “Okay, anything else?”

“Yes, I would like to hold you in my arms for a few minutes, please.”

Soraya gives me a small smile. “Thank you, Mr.…”

Right, I never shook her hand or introduced myself to her, did I? I push back from my desk and rise and straighten my belt.

I extend my hand to her, and as our palms touch, my heart rate increases.

“I am Aric Kallistratos. You can call me Aric.”

“Fuck Aric, she is calling us Ares.”

“But my family calls me Ares. You can call me Ares.”

She swallows. “I am Soraya Maude; my friends call me Raya.”

“I like Soraya more.”

She bends her head and smiles. “Soraya, it is.”

I don’t want to let her hand go. But I exhale, releasing her small hand out of mine.

“Well, that’s it then.” She rocks on her heels.

“It is.”