Chapter 20

Colin remained rooted to the spot, his gaze lingering on Brinley's retreating figure, eyes shadowed with unwillingness to let her go.

Beside him, Milly noticed the desolation etched on his face,a pang tightening her chest.

She slipped her fingers around his sleeve, tugging lightly as her voice trembled with practiced gentleness. "Colin, my stomach feels a little off... Can we leave now?"

Her words pulled him back to the present. Meeting Milly's fragile, almost pitiful expression, his hardened stare eased.

"Let's go home," he murmured at last.

He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder,guiding her out of the hall.

Days later, the Hillcrest Villa carried the scent of simmering broth and freshly chopped herbs.

In the kitchen, Brinley moved briskly between stove and counter, her sleeves rolled, the clatter of utensils filling the air

The real estate project, which had been slated to launch in the year's second half, had suddenly hit a roadblock. The Housing and Urban Development Department had put it on hold, citing a missing quality assessment report.

Since the approval process was bound to stall for a while, she gave her staff an early holiday, keeping only a handful on duty at the company

The oven's timer rang out, cutting through the moment.

Brinley tugged on an oven mitt and pulled out a tray of cookies, their edges blackened and bitter-smelling With a sigh, she dumped the ruined batch into the trash.

Stuck at home with nothing to occupy her, she had started dabbling in recipes, but every attempt ended in disaster.

Yesterday's mushroom soup had been so salty it was inedible, and now today's cookies were nothing but charred crumbs.

"Need a hand?" Austin's voice suddenly drifted in from behind her.

He strolled in wearing casual clothes, damp hair still tousled from a shower

Brinley turned just in time to see him head straight for the counter. He plucked up one of the less-destroyed cookies, cracked it open, and inspected it with mock seriousness. "Wow, these are... something else. What do you call them? 'Charcoal briquettes'?" he teased.

"If you're hungry, there are sandwiches in the fridge,"Brinley grumbled, clearly annoyed. She snatched the cookie from his fingers and tossed it into the bin, then tore off her apron with a scowl.

From the moment the project was suspended,she observed Austin returning home earlier each day, even spending entire weekends sprawled in the living room with company files scattered around him.

On top of that, the villa's chef and housekeeper had both been placed on a medical leave by Austin just the week before.

Now,as she watched him casually sample the lopsided slices of fruit she'd just struggled to cut, it dawned on her-he'd orchestrated this on purpose.

"Actually," Austin remarked, spearing a chunk of apple and chewing with deliberate leisure, "I think your cooking has a kind of everyday warmth to it."

He arched a brow, a playful gleam flickering in his gaze, before adding, "Honestly, it's more satisfying than a Michelin three-star dinner."

Brinley rolled her eyes. "I know it's bad. Your comfort is unhelpful."

She folded her arms, narrowing her eyes as he polished off the last slice of apple and even dared to sip her bitter melon drink.

His oddly glowing review made her frown.stin,did you lose your taste buds?"

He froze mid-motion, plate in hand, before breaking into a laugh.

Crossing to the counter, he brushed his fingers across the flour smudges on her blouse, speaking with sincerity. "It's not every day I find you cooking in the kitchen. As your husband,I should at least act grateful."

To prove the point, he grabbed a piece of charred toast and bit into it, not a flicker of discomfort on his face. "A satisfying crunch followed by tender flavor.I've got to admit, not bad."

She stared as he swallowed the blackened bread without a blink, the corner of her mouth twitching."If you enjoy it so much, I'll whip up some charcoal-grilled avocado with pickled herring tomorrow."

She waited for him to flinch. But Austin only curved his lips into a calm smile. "Now that sounds like a challenge. I'll be looking forward to your masterpiece." As he turned toward the door, he tossed back casually. "By the way,the melon you've been craving is in the fridge. Don't forget to have it."

Throughout the next several days, Austin continued turning up to eat with her.

Brinley, restless and reckless in the kitchen, churned out one strange dish after another-braised pork glazed with both sugar and salt, yogurt sprinkled with chili flakes instead of sugar, even weirder combinations after that.

No matter what landed on the table, Austin ate it without flinching, sometimes even shooting her a playful thumbs-up, praising her with a grin. "Your cooking just keeps getting better."

On the fifth evening, when he polished off her chocolate chili ice cream without hesitation, Brinley finally blurted out, "Do you actually enjoy torturing your taste buds?"

Her blunt words shattered the soft glow of their candlelit dinner like glass underfoot.

Austin, however, remained calm. He dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin and met her gaze with an easy smile. "For me, it's an honor to eat anything you've made yourself."

Brinley faltered, words sticking in her throat.

She excused herself to clear the dishes and slipped into the kitchen, pulling out her phone to dial Austin's assistant. "Miguel, I need to ask-what is Austin like at the company?"

Miguel's tone brimmed with reverence. "Just today,Mr. Moore tossed out a competitor's proposal during the board meeting and said, 'This garbage isn't even worth bidding.' The poor representative was so rattled he nearly collapsed from low blood sugar. And last week? He had a business partner who deliberately broke a contract and was sued into bankruptcy-the summons have already been delivered."

The man Miguel described-a ruthless, decisive figure feared in boardrooms-felt like a stranger compared to the one who sat across from her, calmly praising her terrible cooking.

The more she dwelled on it, the more uneasy she became.

Austin's reputation was built on ruthlessness, yet he seemed almost delighted by her failed culinary experiments. He had even sent the servants away just to make sure she cooked for him herself.

A shiver traced up Brinley's spine. Whispers shehad once dismissed about the hidden games of wealthy families now crept back to mind.

Could Austin's marriage to her be part of some deeper,secret agenda?