Sold To The Devil CEO

Chapter 11: Hidden in Plain Sight

POV: Aaliya

The moment Rihito left the mansion, I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Something was definitely wrong.

The way he questioned me during breakfast wasn't normal.

Not for him.

Rihito Rodriguez wasn't the type of man who cared about how someone's day went. The man barely spoke unless necessary.

Yet this morning, he had asked where I went.

What I did.

How my work was.

The questions seemed harmless, but my instincts told me otherwise.

And my instincts had never failed me before.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I quickly grabbed my bag and headed out of the mansion.

The drive to the restaurant took longer than usual because of heavy traffic.

By the time I arrived, I already knew I was late.

Very late.

The moment I pushed through the restaurant's back entrance, chaos greeted me.

Orders were being shouted.

Plates moved rapidly between stations.

The smell of spices filled the air.

Everyone looked busy.

Very busy.

And standing in the middle of it all was Head Chef Daniel.

The second his eyes landed on me, he crossed his arms.

"Aaliya."

Oops.

I immediately forced an apologetic smile.

"Good morning, Chef."

"Good morning?" he repeated.

The entire kitchen suddenly became quiet.

Several cooks looked over.

Some already looked entertained.

I knew exactly what was coming.

"Aaliya, you're late. We have more customers than usual today and you're only arriving now?"

I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, Chef."

He stared at me for several seconds.

I waited for the lecture.

Or the punishment.

Or both.

Instead, he sighed heavily.

"Go change and get to work."

My eyes widened.

That was it?

No punishment?

No shouting?

"Now."

I immediately snapped out of my shock.

"Yes, Chef!"

Without wasting another second, I ran toward the staff room.

A few people laughed as I disappeared down the hallway.

Inside the changing room, I quickly switched into my chef uniform.

Five minutes later, I returned to the kitchen.

The moment I tied my apron, Chef Daniel pointed toward one of the cooking stations.

"Station three."

"Got it."

I immediately got to work.

Orders were already piling up.

Customers filled the restaurant.

The pressure was intense.

But strangely...

Cooking always calmed me.

No matter how stressful life became.

No matter how many secrets I carried.

The moment I stepped into a kitchen, everything felt simple.

Ingredients.

Timing.

Technique.

Unlike people, food made sense.

I was focused on preparing a seafood pasta when a familiar annoying voice interrupted the atmosphere.

"Boss, she came late. Why are you allowing her to cook?"

I didn't even need to turn around.

I already knew who it was.

Vanessa.

My self-appointed rival.

A wealthy chef whose father practically owned half the restaurants in the city.

For some reason, she had hated me since the first day I arrived.

Maybe because customers preferred my food.

Maybe because I didn't care about her status.

Either way, the feeling was mutual.

Chef Daniel looked annoyed.

"This is the first time she's been late."

"But—"

"And more importantly," he interrupted, "customers enjoy her cooking."

Vanessa's face immediately darkened.

Several nearby chefs exchanged amused looks.

Chef Daniel continued.

"Like I said, we have a full restaurant today. Instead of complaining, maybe learn something from her."

A few people immediately covered their mouths to hide their laughter.

Vanessa looked as if she wanted to explode.

Without another word, Chef Daniel walked away.

The moment he disappeared, silence lasted for exactly three seconds.

Then—

"I smell something burning."

I looked up.

My female friend, Sophia, was dramatically sniffing the air.

Everyone nearby turned toward her.

"What is it?" my friend Jake asked curiously.

Sophia placed a hand over her heart.

"I can smell jealousy."

The kitchen immediately erupted with laughter.

Even I struggled not to laugh.

Jake nearly dropped the tray he was holding.

"Oh no," he said dramatically. "Someone call the fire department."

More laughter followed.

Everyone understood exactly who they were talking about.

Except one person.

Vanessa.

Her face turned bright red.

"And who said I would be jealous of a low-life like her?" she snapped angrily.

The kitchen instantly became quiet.

Several people exchanged looks.

Wrong thing to say.

Sophia folded her arms.

"Low-life?"

Vanessa rolled her eyes.

"You heard me."

Sophia's smile became dangerous.

"She might not come from a rich family, but at least she's trying to build a name for herself."

Several workers nodded.

Sophia wasn't finished.

"Unlike some people who spend their father's money and still have nothing impressive to show for it."

The kitchen exploded again.

Even some cooks who normally stayed quiet couldn't hide their laughter.

Vanessa looked ready to scream.

Meanwhile, I focused on my food.

Honestly, this argument wasn't worth my energy.

I had bigger problems.

Like figuring out whether my husband was secretly investigating me.

The thought instantly ruined my mood.

What if the people watching the warehouse belonged to him?

What if he had already discovered something?

No.

I couldn't panic.

There wasn't enough proof.

Still...

Something about this morning felt wrong.

Very wrong.

As I continued cooking, I glanced toward the restaurant windows.

Customers laughed happily.

Waiters moved between tables.

Everything appeared normal.

Yet deep inside, I couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere...

Someone was watching.

And for the first time in years, the secret life I had carefully hidden felt dangerously close to being exposed.