Mag-log inI slowly lowered my hand, my face burning with embarrassment.He licked his lips,as if savoring my reaction."At least thank me properly," he murmured, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "One kiss won't hurt.""No." I shoved against his chest, but he didn't budge. "Let me go."I twisted and struggled, my shoes squeaking against the polished marble floor, but his arms were like iron bands around me.The more I fought, the tighter he held me until I was almost breathless.He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.His warm breath tickled my skin, making me shiver in spite of myself."Are you afraid you might fall in love with me?" he whispered.Then I felt his hands slide down my body before boldly grabbing my backside. At the same time, his lips grazed the sensitive skin of my neck, sending an unwanted shiver through me.Rage surged through me.I shoved him with all my strength, my palms slamming against his chest. Before he could react, my hand flew across his face.The s
I forced myself to breathe evenly, willing my heart to stop its reckless pounding against my ribs. My palms were already clammy as I schooled my features into a scowl and turned to face him. "Come with me." Without waiting for a response, I grabbed his wrist and yanked him out of the kitchen. His face registered a mixture of shock and surprise. "What are you doing here?" I hissed, my voice barely above a whisper as soon as we were away from prying ears. He tilted his head, the smoke from his cigar curled upward in lazy spirals, catching the warm glow of the sconces. "Do you like your room?" "That's not the question I asked," I shot back, coughing as the acrid cloud invaded my lungs. I waved my hand frantically, fanning the air between us. "You're in my family's house. I came to see how you're doing." "You didn't tell me I'd be working for your family," I replied, a note of regret creeping into my voice. "Well, what difference does it make?" "I wouldn't have accepted if I'
I had spent the day under the personal guidance of Chef Rosa, whose warmth reminded me of a caring mother. Honestly, it felt like a dream, one of those ones you’re afraid to wake from.At one point, she even stepped back and let me take the lead—trusting me to cook for her. When I finished, she tasted my dish in silence, then looked up with soft approval in her eyes. “You were right,” she said gently. “You really do have talent.” The words bloomed in my chest like sudden sunlight. Joy swelled so fiercely I had to fight back tears. I turned away quickly, pretending to check the stove, but my heart was hammering with a happiness I hadn’t felt in years. I had been watching her earlier, mesmerized by the elegant way with which she sliced vegetables. It reminded me so much of my own mother in our tiny kitchen back home, humming softly as she worked. It was evening already I wished today would be longer. “Are you going to keep staring at me like that?” Rosa asked, a teasing lilt in
I heard Rosa speak to me again and blinked. "What is wrong with you? I have been talking to you!" she snapped. "I'm sorry—I really don't understand the language you were speaking." "You are not Latina?" she asked suddenly, tilting her head as she studied my face. "Um... no." "You look like one," she said. First Indian, now Latina...? I wonder what other ethnicity I'll be told I look like. Mother, I wish you'd told me who I really am before you left me alone in this world. "Now, as you can see, this is the kitchen," she declared, waving me forward with both hands. "Come in, come in! Don't just stand there like a lost puppy." I muttered a quick "thank you" and stepped fully inside, my eyes wide as I continued to admire the space—professional-grade ovens, a walk-in pantry that could feed an army, and every gadget imaginable. "Over here," she snapped her fingers sharply, pulling me out of my daze. I blinked, heat rushing to my face. "Sorry! I got distracted by the beauty... this
LENA'S POV The sharp knock on the door jolted me awake with my heart slamming against my ribs like a startled bird. I blinked rapidly, disoriented, with silky sheets tangled around my legs. Oh no! Only then did the memories flood back. I had let my guard down completely, falling asleep in this unfamiliar room after accepting an offer in a haze of desperation yesterday. I had told myself to stay awake not and not be too trusting but I fell asleep instead. "Who..who is it?" I called out, my voice still hoarse from sleep. "This is Chef Rosa. Are you still asleep in there?" The voice replied. I blinked, and the last remnants of sleep vanished from my eyes immediately. That's right. Yesterday, I'd accepted the position as an assistant chef and even signed a full-year contract because I was utterly desperate for a place to stay. It came with a roof over my head and the chance to do what I loved most—cooking. The man who made the offer, though... he was someone I'd rather avo
If you are paying attention from the beginning of this book: · Mitch praised Lena for her cooking skills. · Lena is working at the café because she loves anything that has to do with cooking, which includes baking. · The culinary school didn't come out of nowhere. · She is not going to the school yet because she has no MONEY, of course 🫢 · She was only thinking about her new dreams of having a restaurant, and then she was thinking of focusing on herself and going to culinary school if she gets the MONEY. · Her childhood dream, which she buried after she met MITCH and decided to be a houseWIFE. 2) Now... about the driving to somewhere unknown—her destination will be revealed soon. But the SUITE SCENE IS A DREAM 🫡 If you read the next chapters, you can see it was TARZAN'S DREAM. LENA'S POV stopped at her going somewhere in a car, while AUTHOR'S POV began with Lena seeing Tarzan in a suit. The two are different scenes: ONE is REALITY; the other is A DREAM. That's why I used
When we finally reached the old abandoned house where I was supposed to be living for now, my personal guard, Damon, was already there waiting with two others. Seeing that I was trying to get her out of the car alone, he stepped forward to help. "Young master... may I...?" "Stand back," I ordere
TARZAN'S POV I had followed her and watched her, as always. I saw the moment she stormed out of that house, tears flooding her face. I was there. I watched her stumble to the park. Watched her drink an entire bottle of vodka like it was water. It took everything in me not to go to her then. Bu
He didn’t soften. He didn’t even look sorry at all. Instead, his grip tightened painfully around my wrist as he yanked me up from the floor."Mitch...please...".“You disrespected me in front of those girls. What were you thinking? Am I not man enough to make you submit?” he shouted, his face inc
LENA'S POV What a day... I drifted through the rest of my shift like a shadow, barely present. Julia and the girls noticed. They gently pulled me aside and told me to take a break—they'd cover for me, they wouldn't say anything to the boss since she's still on maternity leave. I whispered a sh







