Romans & histoires Killer Chef

My arm was shaking. I am a cook. Not a spy. But I could not let a master of the craft be slaughtered. The Chief Royal Chef is in danger.

"Wake up." Instantly, the bustling kitchen froze. The air pressure dropped. This Master Chef, known as 'The Butcher,' was a legend. Even the Head Beta of the kitchens bowed to him. He rarely cooked, only making dishes for the Alpha King himself, spending the rest of his time sleeping in the corner. The large man snapped his eyes open. A jagged scar ran down his face, making him look terrifying—like a demon ready to devour a soul. Faye hid behind Serena, trembling. The Butcher was as scary as ever. The first time eight-year-old Faye saw him, she had burst into tears. The trauma lingered.

"A scary man like that getting laid under? That'll be a blast to make all these tops fear us and know we ain't weak." "You're disgusting." "And you're a dick-sucker. Try mine sometime—an european dick, pretty sure you haven't tried that before." Kael hit the table and walk straight to one of the chefs. He looks like all the blood in his body has been drained and he's going to die. I think he's really cut deep by my words this time around, and I have no idea why. Did I say too much? Oh, crap! "Bend your neck." He tells the twink chef, who's the last and youngest guy. All within seconds, he rips into the guy's neck to drink his blood.

Let's focus on the problem at hand. Keira took a moment, watched them all look to her. Keira: Are you sure about your intel? Kate: Calvin Hunter was our killer. It stands to reason— Keira: I can't take it stands to reason to The Table's Assembly, especially after what happened in Venatores. Get me something by The Table's Assembly before we lose another damn Seat Number 12.

"Oh." He sighed. "I think I'm going to be late thanks to your Ratatouille boyfriend." "Hey! His name is Keith, he's not a rat and not my boyfriend either!" "Whatever. Just tell that stupid cook that if this happens ever again then he'll have to start looking for a new job." "Keith is not stupid! He's a really talented chef. And you don't own this place so you can't have a say in who works here and who is fired. " I crossed my arms over my chest and regarded him appraisingly.

Drew facepalmed. "Parce que tu és le seul fantome que je connaisse qui soit un chef (Because you're the only ghost whom I know is a chef)" Calvin replied. “Wrong, Mason is also a chef. Why not ask him to prepare a dish for you?“ “Nope, I'll pass. I like to have my head intact even as a ghost," Calvin pouted "How are you even sure she has all the ingredients needed for preparing a Coq Au Vin Blanc?“

I asked about the chef she employed two months ago, She is old but very efficient and her desserts are wonderful. "I fired her this morning," She said without care, looking up at me. "Why? This is the sixth chef you have fired in less than a year" I replied with disbelief, I have a reputation for firing people without remorse but she is something else. "I found a strand of her hair in my pancake this morning and I had already eaten half of it," She said with a look of disgust on her face and I chuckled. "The hotel needs this chef Mum look for another" I replied switching to business mode.

And judging by her rumpled hair, disheveled appearance, and too much flawless skin on display, it was obvious she had spent the night fucking my boss. Ugh, why did I have to see this? This wasn’t part of my job description. “You must be the cook,” she said before I could utter a word, hopping off the counter and walking towards the French press. Her hips swayed seductively beneath the short hem of the white shirt she had on as she flaunted her long smooth thighs. “Uh, yes.” I replied succinctly, even though she hadn’t posed it as a question. “Yesterday’s dinner was a bit underwhelming to say the least. Don’t know why Alessio hired an unseasoned amateur such as yourself, but I believe you can

My dad leads the Russian Mafia while my mom is one of the most famous fashion designers in Paris and I am the CEO of one of the biggest companies that exist— I am also an assassin and I'll gladly kill you after taking the pleasure to torture the fuck out of you. "My dad is a plumber and my mom's a chef." I replied calmly. "Plumber for a dad and chef for a mom, no wonder you look like that." Iris said with a disgusted fake smile which I ignored which was the safest thing to do. "What about you, Jasy?" Iris trailed her finger down Ares's tattooed arm, "What do your parents do?" "Both my parents are businessman— and woman." Ares replied which made Iris smile, "Mine too."

She fell to her knees, flopping to the side. Derek dodged the waitress as she tried to grab him and he smashed his blade directly into her ear. The waitress crumpled to the ground. I ran to the little boy and did my best not to think about his innocent life that had been full of dreams and aspirations. In one quick motion, I plunged my knife into the little boy's eye socket. I caught him before he crashed to the dirt, placing him down softly. Fuck. I hated killing kids. It never got any easier.