Page 1 of Seeds of Sorrow

Chapter1

PEYTON

A cool breezehaunted the air, tickling her cheeks as she climbed out of the cab and handed her fare to the driver. With little more than a grunt in thanks for her generous tip, which she probably shouldn’t have given him considering she had no savings, he sped off and left her standing in front of the colonial-style house.

It took her breath away. The estate was large, surrounded by healthy green grass and towering trees that were practically bursting with plump apples and ripe pomegranates. Peyton smiled to herself and inhaled, savoring the fresh air. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been somewhere that was so undisturbed by the rest of the world. The polluted city smog was suffocating.

Straightening her back and tilting her chin up, Peyton grabbed her suitcase off the sidewalk and made her way up the winding driveway. She cursed herself for wearing her heeled leather ankle boots as she struggled up the gravel path, hoping this decision was the right one.

Since finishing her biomedical course at college and working odd jobs that barely paid her rent, Peyton had contemplated her life decisions many times. It was nearly impossible to land an interview, even with a college degree. Her parents had been right about that, at the very least. They knew it was going to be hard for her to move away; she thanked every deity possible for the scholarships that allowed her to attend college in the first place.

Leaving home and deciding not to return to Willowbrooks—especially after it became abundantly clear she could no longer afford to live on her own—well, it was far more difficult than she wanted to admit. Living in a place where everyone knew everything about her and had watched her grow up was stifling. She had been drowning there long before she ever left; however, it didn’t mean she didn’t sometimes think about going home. But then she’d remember why she left in the first place, and it was clear she was never going back. No, Peyton was determined she could survive on her own.

That thought was what propelled her forward as she climbed the wooden steps and thumped her luggage onto the porch at the door. Spinning around on her heels, she placed her hands on her hips and admired the yard again. Her parents’ house in Willowbrooks had been scarcely big enough for her mom and dad and their three kids. Peyton couldn’t help the little burst of resentment that fired up inside her as she then pictured her tiny college room with damp walls and flickering lights. How was it fair that she had been forced out of the world’s shittiest apartment, and yet there were people who lived in houses like this with more bedrooms and space than they could ever need?

Peyton shook her head and reprimanded her brain for its foolish and selfish thoughts. Life wasn’t fair and she knew that—really, she did—and wasn’t that why she wanted to become a nurse? To make the world a better place how ever she could?

“Can I help you with something, or do you just make a habit of trespassing on private property?”

Peyton jumped at the steely voice behind her and spun around, almost tripping over her suitcase and falling into the arms of the stranger. The woman’s cool fingers caught her around the elbow before she could land on her ass, and Peyton uttered a few profanities.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she muttered as she pulled her arm back and steeled her spine. “I’m, uh, my name is Peyton? I’m supposed to meet Hadina here?”

The raven-haired woman stepped back, her gaze traveling the length of the girl in front of her with a piercing intensity. It made Peyton uncomfortable to be looked at like that. She always felt underwhelming, boring even, but the anxiety working its way through her veins under this scrutiny was something else entirely. While the woman examined her, Peyton found herself doing the same in return.

The stranger had long hair the color of night, and Peyton noticed that the light reflected perfectly on it, the strands glinting like stars. Her full lips were painted blood red and popped against the tan of her skin. Dark lashes framed striking emerald eyes, and Peyton tried not to gasp when they met the Grecian-blue gaze of her own.

“I suppose you better come in then.”

The woman turned on her heels—a pair of beautiful Louboutin stilettos that made Peyton insanely jealous as her eyes flicked down to her worn sneakers—and strolled into the house like she owned it. It was only then, after noticing the calm demeanor soaked in self-importance, that Peyton realized her mistake…she had been speaking to Hadina, and had made a complete ass of herself in the process.

“Hurry up, Miss Dimitra. I truly do not have all day,” Hadina called over her shoulder, which made Peyton rush inside before closing the door with a click behind her.

Peyton trudged after Hadina through the house, eyes widening in awe at the high ceilings and original beams that added a vintage feel to the place. Leading her into what appeared to be an office area, Hadina pointed and motioned for Peyton to sit down in one of the olive-colored chairs. Peyton did as requested, groaning at how soft the leather was after such a long cab ride. She watched as Hadina took her seat behind the desk with the poise and grace of an old-timey heiress. She had never been in the presence of someone so beautiful and intimidating before, and Peyton blushed at the thought.

Not that she would be spending much time with Hadina anyway. She was here for sweet old Don.

Tapping her pointed manicured nails against the dark mahogany desk, Hadina glared at Peyton making her shift uncomfortably.

What was with this woman and staring people down?Peyton thought to herself.

“Let me introduce myself. My name is Hadina and it will be my father, Don, who you will be tasked with caring for—ah, Miss Dimitra, please don’t interrupt,” Hadina said, and Peyton snapped her lips closed, trying not to seethe at being spoken to like a child. “My father is a very strong and proud man. The fact that he even agreed to have you become his live-in care assistant speaks volumes. He tells me you were extremely polite when he met you at his hospital appointment, but he also told me you didn’t get the job you were interviewing for and ended up crying on his shoulder. Let me make it clear to you that you’ve only been hired at his behest—I do not think you are qualified enough and anyone who cries to an old man in a hospital is not as mentally stable as they should be when caring for another.”

Peyton bristled at the woman’s tone before sitting a little straighter. “I’m qualified enough for this and please understand that what happened on that day was an extremely rare occurrence. I will care for your father with the respect that he deserves. It’s obvious to me that he feels the same, otherwise I would not be here, as you were so kind to point out.”

Hadina raised a brow in response, as though waiting for Peyton to continue. But the girl relaxed in her chair once more and motioned for her soon-to-be boss to proceed instead.

Fuck her for trying to belittle me, Peyton thought to herself.

“Your duties are mainly to offer support, company, and assistance to his everyday life. You will be expected to begin work promptly at eight each morning and can clock out at eight each night once my father has decided to retire to his bedroom—he is a creature of habit so this will probably remain your working hours for the foreseeable future.”

Hadina spoke without ever taking her eyes off Peyton, her voice commanding respect with every syllable uttered. It made Peyton wonder how someone grew to have so much confidence in themselves that they could garner attention and hold it without a doubt. Peyton certainly could not imagine trying to interrupt again.

“You will have every Thursday afternoon and evening to yourself, as well as the full of Sunday. These are the times I can definitely be here so you won’t be needed. Salary is as previously discussed via email but should you need anything or require extra, please do let me know.”

Peyton noticed the way Hadina paused, as though contemplating carefully what she was about to say next.

“My father is extremely important to me and your willingness to help my family is greatly appreciated. My sisters and I have busy lives with full schedules, but I will be here as often as I can and if you or my father need anything, I will always answer that call. I would, however, ask that you do not invite strangers into this house or share details of your work with the public.”

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