Killer Chef Romane & Geschichten

That is too young to kill a man, that is too young to be a devil. I felt confused. I did not like being confused, confusion is weak. I am not weak, i am strong and i am the Red Reaper. When he kissed me, I did not stop him. That is the worst part. I kissed him back, i let my guard down. I let the pity for the boy make me forget the man. The man is a killer. The man is my target, the man is the leader of the Lombardi clan. I cannot forget that. I walked to the window. It was dark outside, i could still see the city lights. I felt far away from everything that was real.

"Here, I got this holy water from a reputable temple. Feed it to her, and she'll be healed immediately!" Watching her raise her hand to pour the "holy water" into Amy's mouth, my eyes widened. That bowl was the very thing that had killed my daughter in my previous life. Springing to my feet, I deliberately caught my slipper on the floor and crashed towards Mindy with all my might. "Ouch!" With a pained cry, Mindy lost hold of the bowl and it shattered against the floor with a loud crack, spraying the filthy liquid all over her pants.

Isabella shouted, her daggers flashing off the air one after another. As much as I wanted to walk away, every instinct told me I couldn’t. I didn’t want to look like a coward to my mortal enemy. The idea of her mocking me at the office until work hours ends, would be the death of me. I’m Keigh Russo, the deadliest mafia of all. I have to live up to my name. I saw some of the Moretti guards fighting against the drugged ones. Every move they made was calculated and precised. It made me realize how these men were trained their whole lives for moments like this.

I look down to see him tieing a silver chain around my wrist and I struggle, to have his grip tighten on me. As he whispers lowly. "That's the scent which was there when my entire family was brutally murdered in front of my eyes." "That's the scent which I have been searching for last 5 years of my life for vengeance." "That's the scent of Daniel Black." . . . "The leader of Hunters" My mind froze and I go still. The pain on my wrist, forgotten. Tugging on the silver chains, he makes my numb form to hit his chest. He breathes heavily near my ear to only whispers in a voice as cold as ice.

So she obediently started to eat, But after taking a bite, her eyes lit up. "It's so good." "Hahaha, that's nothing. You know it right? I am the best chef." Rajendra Mishra laughed. While Kiara nodded. She already knows from previous Kiara's memory that his father once was a master chef. He was famous all over the world and owned very luxurious restaurants too. But In one cooking competition, while he was the judge, someone framed him for taking bribes.

I always disobey Ruslan, yet, he let me live, but if I disobey or talk back at Jeremy, after our wedding, he'd definitely have my head on a platter of gold. Cold, unlike anything I've ever experienced coursed through every part of my body and my blood turned ice cold in my veins. “Y…yes, Lord Jeremy.” The chef replied, raising his fingers to wipe the sweat that almost trickled down the tiled floor in drops. “Now, tell me what you have prepared for us before I send your dead body to your family.” Despite how dangerous his words were, he still had a calm smile on. A psychopatic smile, but less ice-chilling than someone I knew.

Made it edible. They ate at the counter again. No pretense. No performance. Just two people who’d somehow ended up in this strange space between war and something else. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said. “I know.” She pushed rice around her plate. “But watching you burn food hurts me spiritually.” He huffed. Almost a laugh. She looked up. “Did you just laugh?” “No.” “You did.” “I didn’t.” “Kael Penking. The most feared alpha in New York. Just laughed at a cooking joke.”

“No wonder I am so hungry.” Kiara chuckled and gently grabbed my hand, “Come on. The kitchen is this way. The chef’s name is Caleb. You will like him. She led me to the far end of the mansion, and into a large commercial grade kitchen where a rotund man in his late fifties was busy stirring ingredients into a large pot. “Ah, our sleeping beauty has awoken! Did your prince finally find you, or perhaps princess?” He cracked a grin as he took in Kaira still gripping my hand. Instead of pulling away like I expected her to, she gripped my hand tighter.

I declared in a serious voice before throwing her a playful wink. “That isn’t very professional of you, is it?” She teased with a cheeky smile as she settled onto one of the high stools by the island. “So, Chef Miller, what is the menu for tonight?” She asked, resting her chin in her palm as she placed her elbows on the island. “Kleftiko,” I replied. “What does that mean?” She asked, clearly intrigued. "Kleftiko means 'thieves' in English. It's a dish with a history - cooked by bandits in secret ovens to avoid getting caught," I explained, feeling proud of her interest in what I had to say.

As Killian strode down the hallway, faithfully tracking the omega's scent once again, his thoughts dwelled upon the Head Chef, a figure he regarded as a second father. The elderly Head Chef had faithfully served the royal family for countless years, long predating Killian 's birth. Their connection ran deep, as the Head Chef prepared Killian 's cherished dishes and clandestinely slipped him delightful treats, unbeknownst to his parents. Killian wondered if the Head Chef had undergone any transformations, but one thing remained constant: his aversion to allowing strangers into his culinary domain. Hence, Killian found it astonishing to discover that the Head Chef was acquainted with Yifa and