His Favorite Sin

For original readers, I realized the chapters were too long so I halved them and also changed the pov. Enjoy! Nine Years Ago College could be very expensive. And not everyone could land a scholarship, including Dahlia. So Dahlia took on part-time jobs as a barista, a waiter, a cashier... You name it. She did it all! And while the generous tips helped out, they just weren’t enough. She needed more, so she took on additional jobs even after school had started and resumed her studies for her first year. She had her nana, though, but her nana could barely help her through high school. It was hard, being an eighteen-year-old doing all those part-time jobs just to fend for herself while in school. It made her fall behind in classes, assignments, and school projects. She decided she needed something less demanding but with more pay. A miracle, one would say. She then proceeded to walk in and out of companies looking to hire, applied to job postings online with only her public high school diploma to show, and, surprise, surprise, no one called or emailed back. So, she stuck to her cashier job for a while. On a particular day, her roommate in the dorms informed her of a job she’d heard about from someone else. Her roommate knew very little details about it, except that Dahlia may not need that many qualifications to apply. So Dahlia, with no other option left in the world, shrugged, asked for the email to apply, and tried her luck, expecting no response like the rest. She had already applied to a lot of places at this time, even when she didn’t meet the qualifications. She once applied to a law firm. Dahlia majored in English. Two weeks after applying for the mysterious job, Dahlia was stunned to find an email in her inbox inviting her for an interview. It was then that she saw the address and realized the offer came from a neighboring town. Having no idea what the job was about, as the email gave no hints either, she happily wrestled her curly afro into a ponytail and hopped on the bus to the next town. Their bus passed by long rows of cornfields that seemed to go on forever until they neared her stop. After stepping down from the old bus and watching it jolt away, she pivoted onto a dirt path and strolled a short way before getting to her destination. Even from the tiled road, she could already make out the building looming ahead above the tall trees. Blown away by the sight, she lifted her dark glasses and tilted her head up to gawk at the building that she refused to believe was a home for people to live in. Its unique architectural design didn’t seem like it was conjured up in this century. First, she was welcomed by a round, cascading marble fountain with elaborate double staircases flanked on either side, curved and lined by clipped hedges, leading up to the extravagant building. The dark clouds swirling above enhanced the gothic vibe the mansion presented as Dahlia walked up to the door. Dumbfounded, she was invited in by a maid with a Slavic accent and a scowl on her face. When she got to the living room, the owner was already making his way down the stairs, and they made their introduction. Mr. Ben Dvorak was a polite gentleman who offered Dahlia something to drink, complimented the college tee that she had on, and asked about her school. In return, she complimented him on his home and thanked him for inviting her over for an interview. When the cry of a baby rang from upstairs, the maid rushed to attend to it, leaving Dahlia alone with Mr. Dvorak. ‘You’re a college student majoring in English. That means your reading and writing skills should be adequate, superior even. Am I right to believe that?’ Dahlia nodded in response. Mr. Dvorak then narrated how he had a son who was 14, visually impaired, and therefore in need of some assistance, such as someone reading to him, taking his notes, even helping him move around, and other such things an access assistant could help with. Dahlia wasn’t sure why he was even considering her when he was clearly wealthy and could afford someone more professional and qualified for the job. However, he suddenly made a confession that not many people wanted the job. He believed it was because it included the person living in his home as well. ‘Usually, people are more than willing to work for me, but when it entails living with me, they become more... cautious.’ That left Dahlia even more puzzled, wondering why anybody, in their right mind, wouldn’t want to live in a house like this? It looked like a freaking castle! The pay? Even better! And it came with access to almost everything in the house: food, the kitchen, the library, which was over-equipped for a home, the pool, the gardens, and so on. Some rooms were, of course, off-limits. Mostly the ones on the upper floors. Basically, free accommodation and an inflated salary. There were also talks about a Non-Disclosure Agreement. Nevertheless, as desperate as Dahlia was for a well-paying job, she didn’t want to be hasty about this. It was strange to think no one else wanted it. ‘It’s all due to some ill rumors concocted and circulated around by some locals upset with me. You have nothing to worry about,’ Mr. Dvorak assured her. ‘His mum, my wife, used to dedicate her time fully to him, but...’ He drifted off for a moment but then regained his demeanor, ‘I just need Lance to have some help for now until we can get a professional. I have someone overseas I’m looking into. So it’s temporary.’ Dahlia requested time to mull it over since it meant having to leave her college dorm, and she wasn’t sure how her nana would feel about that. Her first year was over, so it wasn’t a requirement to live in the dorms any longer. And although it was a different town, the distance to school wasn’t that bad. Heck, with what he was offering, she could ditch buses and take Ubers to and from school. After a handshake to say goodbye, Dahlia was almost out the door when it started to drizzle. Mr. Dvorak offered her a temporary stay until it settled down. He would have had his driver take her, but he had already sent his driver on another errand. She had no choice but to reluctantly accept his kindness and wait for the rain to settle. The weather only worsened, and soon, the light shower turned into a downpour. She decided to make good use of her short stay in the “castle” by doing some exploring, and checking out the library was top of her list. Dahlia always loved literature. She could drown in the smell of books, get lost in the worlds those printed pages had to offer, and only libraries provided that sensation. It was there that she met him for the first time, young, head full of hair, and alone, standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling arched window that offered an aesthetic view of the greenery outside as the rain came down in sheets. The lights in the room weren’t turned on. A cat with midnight fur, with its tail curled around the boy’s slim ankle, perked up its head when it sensed her presence. It twisted its neck to the doorway, where she stood motionless while its tail brushed around the boy’s ankle. Dahlia had been around many cats; her nana loved to take in strays, but something about how this cat stared back at her caused goosebumps to form on her arm. She felt like its gaze was piercing into her soul. She contemplated leaving without a word before the boy would notice, but when she took a step back, the cat’s eyes narrowed, following her movements, almost as if it was disapproving of her actions, but that couldn’t be right. She took another, and this time, a voice, quiet like a whisper, stopped her. ‘Don’t.’ It came from him, the boy at the window, almost like he was pleading with her. He angled his head to the side, and she caught sight of the dark glasses he had on. After a few silent seconds, she stepped back in, keeping a cautious eye on the cat at his feet as the boy also turned away from the window. ‘Um... hi. I’m Dahlia. You must be Lance.’ She guessed because he did look fourteen and was obviously visually impaired, as the shades could tell. Who else would wear sunglasses inside when it was raining outside? ‘I came here for the job interview to be your assistant. I just met your dad...’ She stood a head taller than him. With the only light illuminating the room coming from the window behind him, his face was mostly shrouded in darkness, but Dahlia could still clearly see his Angular features. Sadly, the dark glasses that he had on veiled his eyes from her. ‘You don’t want the job,’ he stated more than asked. ‘No, I do. The pay seems nice, beyond nice. I mean, your dad is really generous,’ she rambled, recalling the amount Mr. Dvorak had laid out for her. ‘But I’m a full-time student, so I don’t know if I would have the time to... dedicate to the work. Plus, there has to be someone more professional who can assist you. You deserve that.’ He shrugged, ‘That’s okay. My dad is the one insisting I need some assistance, but I barely need any help, so you won’t be doing much. But I wouldn’t mind someone reading to me sometimes.’ He bent down and picked up the cat, cradling it in his arms as he stroked its fur. Now, the cat was staring at her directly instead of craning its head up as it had when it was on the floor. She observed it never took its gaze off of her since she walked in. Did it like her that much, or was it just that wary of her? ‘My mum used to do it for me. Read to me. She was a beautiful narrator,’ he added. She wanted to ask why he was talking about his mum in the past tense. His dad had spoken about her in a similar manner. Talking about people like that either meant they weren’t around anymore or they were dead, but she didn’t want to pry since they had just met. ‘Dad’s always busy with work, my older brother is at college, and Miss Anna isn’t... a good reader. She doesn’t know how to read much.’ He said he barely needed help, but Dahlia believed he was only talking that way so as not to appear helpless and be looked upon with pity. She had just met him, but already, she could feel her heartstrings tug for him. She felt sad for him. He had never seen the physical world before, so all he was left with was the imagination his mind could help build. Her eyes shifted to the stacked shelves in the room, and she strolled over to skim her fingers over the covers before pulling out one; “Simple Verses,” the title read by José Martí. Even turned away, Dahlia knew that creepy cat’s neck was twisting around with every step she took, its eyes following her. Holding the book in her hand, she knew what she was about to do next could seal her fate, so she took a minute to mull it over. When she turned back to him, her mind was already made up as she asked, ‘Would you like me to read you a poem?’