Chapter 94

Just as long as she doesn't bring Joshua back to the villa.

With these thoughts racing through his mind, George stripped off his clothes and stepped into the bathroom. Every other evening, he had showered and changed before Marguerite got home, always presenting his best, cleanest self to her. Tonight, he didn't want to keep her waiting, so he would have to be quick.

Cold water cascaded from the showerhead, tracing the lines of his well-defined abs and down his lean waist, an endlessly alluring sight.

Downstairs, the housekeeper directed a maid to clean the bloodstains from the floor, sighing internally. It was hard to believe that this man, a titan of the business world, was so clueless when it came to romance. He had a golden opportunity to earn Ms. Lopez's sympathy and he wasn't even using it. It was driving him crazy.

Still, Ms. Lopez's reaction today was telling. She definitely cared about his master, at least a little.

In the kitchen, Marguerite tied on an apron and asked Louis, "Do you think I'll be successful tonight?"

Louis's mouth twitched. "Do you want the honest truth?"

Marguerite touched her nose. "Is my cooking really that bad?"

Louis paused for a moment. “The braised pork you made this afternoon... I wouldn't

say it was bad, but let's just say the pig died in vain."

Marguerite sighed. "I guess my only talent is eating."

Her phone, sitting on the counter, buzzed. It was a video call from Theobald. She answered, and his handsome face filled the screen.

"I'm back at the hotel. You said you couldn't find Aaron, that he moved. What happened?” Theobald and Anna had been in back-to-back meetings all afternoon and hadn't had a chance to talk.

Seeing that Marguerite was on a call, Louis discreetly excused himself.

Marguerite opened her mouth to speak, but Theobald's brow furrowed. "What are you wearing? Are you in the kitchen?"

Marguerite held the phone up to show him her apron. "I'm getting ready to make dinner."

Theobald's expression darkened. "Why are you cooking? The fumes are bad for your skin, and what if you burn yourself? If you want to eat something, just have it delivered from a good restaurant.”

“Didn't Anna send you the numbers for several places? They're all owned by my friends; they all deliver."

Marguerite smiled. "It's not for me. I'm making it for George."

"Why should be get to eat a meal you cooked? Theobald blurted out. He realized a second too late that he was talking about Mr. Spencer, the man he had recently come to to admire, but he didn't retract his words. No one was worthy of his sister's cooking. Not even himself.

Back home, Marguerite had never so much as touched a kitchen utensil; her brothers had always done everything for her.

She explained, "I need to ask him for help with Aaron. We don't have any connections in the slums, so I need to make a gesture of goodwill."

A wave of guilt washed over Theobald. He rubbed the worry beads on his right wrist with his left

hand "I'm so sorry I'm the reason

you have to go to all this trouble. he hadn't lost Aaron, none of this would be happening.

"How about I fly back right now and cook for Mr. Spencer for you?" Theobald said, already starting to stand up.

Marguerite burst out laughing. "Relax. By the time you get to Northpine, it'll be breakfast. And don't think you're doing him a favor. My cooking is terrible."

She had tried learning to cook once

as a child, and the entire family had spent the next few days with upset stomachs. It had only ended when their parents made Theobal@get on his knees and beg her to stop.

Theobald's lips twitched. "I'm well aware of your culinary skills. That's why I'm a little worried for Mr. Spencer."

Marguerite was speechless.