Forbidden Flaovors

The Spotlight And The Shadows

“Seraphina, this way!” Xavier called out, guiding her through the bustling crowd as she tried to make her way out of the grand venue at the Culinary Crown International competition.

“You crushed that Thai curry, and the garnish was perfection,” he said with a grin.

“Thanks... Honestly, I was so stressed. Juggling three main courses with that time limit was intense. But I’m just glad I pulled it off,” Seraphina replied, weaving through the crowded hallway.

The Culinary Crown International competition was in full swing, and Seraphina was pouring her heart into it. She was determined to win the title of Chef of the Year, and, so far, everything was going according to plan.

“I knew you could pull it off,” Xavier said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Seraphina looked up at him, returning the squeeze with a soft smile.

As they stepped outside, a flood of camera flashes nearly blinded them. The cool night air hummed with excitement as a crowd of reporters surged forward, surrounding her with microphones and notepads in hand.

“Whoa... looks like they’re here for your interview,” Xavier murmured in Seraphina’s ear, stepping back to let her take the spotlight.

Seraphina took a steadying breath, glancing around as a mix of exhilaration and nerves washed over her. She’d made it to the top five finalists in one of the world’s most prestigious cooking competitions.

“Seraphina!” one reporter called out, his voice rising above the others.

“Congratulations on making it to the top five! Critics are already saying you’re the favorite to win. How does it feel to be so close to the title?”

Seraphina took another breath, composing herself before offering a gracious smile.

“Thank you. I’m truly honored and feel incredibly lucky to have made it this far. But it’s not over yet. I’m gonna push even harder to earn that trophy and, hopefully, the title of Chef of the Year. That’d be... a dream come true.”

A ripple of admiration swept through the reporters. Another one leaned in, pen poised above her notepad.

“Rumor has it you’re already getting offers from some of the biggest names in the industry. Is it true you might be leaving The Grand Oak?”

Seraphina hesitated, momentarily caught off guard, then nodded.

“I’ve received a few offers, yeah. But I haven’t made any decisions yet. Right now, my focus is all on this competition.”

The crowd exchanged knowing glances, sensing there was more to the story. A third reporter piped up.

“What’s your ultimate dream, Seraphina? Do you see yourself opening your own restaurant, maybe even a chain? People are calling you ‘The Rising Star of Modern Cuisine’—do you feel the pressure?”

She laughed softly, finding her voice amidst the flood of questions.

“There’s definitely pressure, but it’s the kind that motivates me to keep pushing forward. My dream? I’d love to open a place of my own, where I can share my vision—a restaurant that brings people together, with food that tells a story.”

As she spoke, her eyes caught Chef Lucien Moreau weaving through the crowd. His tall frame and confident presence commanded attention. With a warm smile, his voice rang out.

“Ah, our rising star is sharing her dreams,” he said, stepping up beside her.

“But let me be clear—Seraphina isn’t leaving The Grand Oak,” Lucien said, his tone firm. “I won’t let that happen. She’s my discovery. I’ve shaped her, honed her skills, and brought her to where she is today. So, she’ll stay with me.”

The reporters exchanged surprised glances, but one quickly interjected, challenging him.

“Yes, Chef Moreau, you mentored her to success, but now she’s a celebrity chef in her own right, with offers from top restaurants and hotels. Don’t you think she deserves the chance to explore those opportunities?”

Seraphina opened her mouth to speak, ready to defend her own path, but Lucien raised a hand, silencing her before she could get a word out.

“We’ll decide what’s best for Seraphina,” he said, his voice unyielding. “She has a bright future, no doubt, and we’ll determine the path that suits her talents. But thank you all for your interest,” he added, making it clear the conversation was over.

With that, he gripped her hand firmly, pulling her closer. His touch was commanding, almost possessive, as if marking his territory.

“Chef, we still have a few more questions,” one reporter called out.

“Maybe another time...” Lucien responded with a forced smile, guiding Seraphina away from the crowd and toward the sleek black sedan parked just ahead.

Seraphina waved at the reporters, trying to ease the tension, but inside, a storm was brewing. She’d wanted the chance to speak her own truth, to share her vision—but Lucien’s grip was too tight, his possessiveness unmistakable.

As they neared the car, she remembered Xavier, who was waiting for her.

“Chef, I was supposed to meet Xavier... he’s waiting for me,” she said, glancing around, searching for him.

“He’s already gone,” Lucien said, his face hardening. “I sent him back to the hotel. He had other things to do.” He tightened his hold on her hand again, gently but firmly steering her toward the car.

Reluctantly, Seraphina climbed into the car, the air between them thick with unspoken tension as they drove off.

She let out a slow breath, staring out the window, her mind racing. She’d wanted to celebrate with Xavier, to share her success with someone who understood her—someone who saw her as an equal. But Lucien had deliberately sent him away.

“It’s okay, Seraphina,” she reassured herself silently. “He’s just looking out for you, like a mentor would. He’s just being protective.” She forced a polite smile, though her heart felt heavy and uncertain.

As they settled into the car, Lucien finally released her hand, leaning back with an air of contentment, his satisfaction evident.

“Seraphina, you don’t need to let the media swarm around you, prying into your dreams,” he said, his eyes briefly meeting hers. “You can share everything with me.”

After a brief pause, he added, his voice calm but commanding, “And don’t worry about your career or your future. Leave that to me. I’ll take you to heights you can’t even imagine.”

She turned to him, her jaw tightening as a flood of words rushed through her mind—words she longed to say. It was her future, her career. She should be the one making the decisions. But instead, she bit her tongue, out of respect. Lucien wasn’t just a mentor; he was like family, the person who’d seen her potential when she hadn’t even believed in it herself.

“Thank you, Chef,” Seraphina said softly, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

Lucien gave a nod of approval, his expression briefly softening. “Good. Just remember, Seraphina, the path you’re on isn’t just yours. It’s something we’ve built together. I’ll always be here to make sure it stays on course.”

His words hung in the air, a quiet reminder of the weight of her loyalty—and the gratitude she owed him.

“I know, Chef,” Seraphina replied slowly, though a gnawing unease settled in her chest. She could feel the suffocating weight of his influence closing in, tightening around her sense of freedom.

“One more thing,” Lucien continued, his voice soft but firm. “You don’t need to spend time with people like Xavier... he’s mediocre, lacks ambition. If you want to go out or have a good time, just ask me. I’m always here for you.” He flashed a smile, but it felt more like the final brick in a wall closing in around her.

“Xavier is my friend, and he’s a good person,” Seraphina replied, her voice steady despite the tension building inside her. “I enjoy his company.”

Lucien’s smile faded, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he slid on his designer sunglasses. “He’s not the kind of friend you need. You should make better choices.”

As they drove on in silence, Seraphina’s thoughts churned. The weight of Lucien’s protectiveness felt different now—almost suffocating. What had once seemed like care and guidance now felt like a slow, tightening grip around her, and she couldn’t shake the nagging question: Why did he feel the need to control so much of her life?