Page 26 of Primal God

I dip my head. “Serafina didn’t feel like cooking when she became pregnant with Isadora.”

“Of course.” She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t have any questions. When would you like me to start?”

“How about tomorrow? Will that be enough time to sort everything out on your end?”

I want to say tonight, but I’m sure shedoeshave things she needs to take care of.

She nods. “Yes, I think so.”

“I’ll have a contract drawn up for the duration of the summer with your duties outlined, as well as your pay.”

“Okay, that sounds good to me.” She stands, holding out her hand. “Thank you for this opportunity, Dr. Santos.”

As soon as our hands touch, I feel a spark. Fuck. How is this possible? I haven’t seen her for five fucking years…

Letting go of her hand, I say, “See you tomorrow, Ms. Wolfe.”

“One thing before I go. I’d really feel much better if you called me Lili.” She smiles. “After all, we’re friends, right?”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Ms. Wolfe.”

The sexy blush is back.

We’re both silent as I walk her to the door. She gives me one last smile as she steps onto the porch. Beyond her, I see her car and frown. It’s an old Toyota that looks like it’s on its last leg. Definitely not safe for my children, but it’s also not safe for her. I’m humming under my breath as I close the door. I guess it’s a good thing she’ll be driving my vehicle after tomorrow.

Now, for my next task. Time to fire the current nanny.

I climb the stairs just as Diego runs out of the room he shares with his sister, silent tears streaming down his face. He rushes toward me, which makes me pick up my pace.

“What’s wrong,meu garoto?”

Diego says nothing, throwing himself onto my leg, hugging tightly. I bend, scooping him into my arms. He immediately wraps his arms around my neck, and his tears soak into my shirt. Pain rips through my chest because my sweet boy doesn’t have the ability to tell me what’s wrong.

“Do you want to go toPapai’sroom and watch TV for a bit?”

He nods, so I carry him the opposite way to my room. Once he’s settled on my bed with his favorite cartoon on, I hurry toward the room that he and Clara share.

Rage courses through me when I take in the sight before my eyes. Theformernanny has Clara pinned in the corner of the room. I can’t see much of Clara, but I hear a muffled cry, and I can see that her feet aren’t touching the fucking ground. A sound unlike anything I’ve ever heard before leaves my lips and has the bitch turning.

“Mr. Santos! I didn’t know you were home.”

“Clearly.” I move toward her. “I suggest getting the hell away from my daughter. Now.”

She moves away from Clara, who rushes toward me.

“Go to my room,minha querida,” I tell her in a soft tone. “Your brother is in there, watching TV.”

“Okay,Papai,” Clara says before running out of the room like the hounds of hell are after her.

I turn to the bitch who had her hands on my child.

She must know her life is in danger, because she holds up both hands and says, “Mr. Santos, I swear it’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh? What exactly was it, then?”

“Clara wet the bed after her nap. When I told her to get in the corner, she wouldn’t listen.”

“And so you thought it was wise to put your hands on her?”

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