The Billionaire's Chef

Chapter 4

The weeks that followed my initial encounter with Mr Salvador at the mansion were a whirlwind of challenges and setbacks. Each day seemed like a culinary battlefield, where I fought to meet his exceedingly high standards. He continued to make my existence in the mansion a challenging ordeal. Each day, I entered the kitchen with trepidation, knowing that I had to prepare meals that met his exact standards. And each day, I left the kitchen feeling defeated and dejected.

One particular day I decided to try something different. A dish that combined flavours and textures in a unique way. I spent hours researching and planning the meal, carefully selecting ingredients that I believed would impress Mr. Salvador. The result was a complex fusion of tastes and textures that I was genuinely proud of.

As the evening approached, I served the dish with great anticipation, hoping that this time, I would earn Mr. Salvador's approval. He came down to eat dinner while I waited at the dinner table if he needed anything

Mr. Salvador took the first bite, and I watched his reaction anxiously. His brow furrowed, and he swallowed with a displeased expression. “What? This again?" Marcus yelled, his frustration boiling over. "Are you a chef, or what? Everything is wrong with this dish, can't you see?"

"You're a chef, yet all your meals are rubbish. Please, take this out of my sight." He reached for the plate and threw the whole thing at me, not caring whether I got injured or not. "Make me something else immediately, and it better be nice."

I stood there, fuming, wanting to fight back as I did the first day I saw him, but I knew it would cost me my job or make things even worse.

"What are you still doing here, staring at me?" He barked. "Get out and make me something else!" “And make sure you are here in less than 30 minutes.”

With tears in my eyes, I rushed into the kitchen to prepare another meal for Marcus, trying to hurry to meet the ultimatum he had given me. In my haste, I accidentally cut my finger, and I screamed in pain. I wondered if I would ever be able to please Marcus or if he would continue to taunt me for the rest of my life.?

I brought back the meal and placed it on the table waiting to hear his next words. He tasted it and complained again. “’ this still doesn’t taste nice” he said.” Amelia that’s your name right?’’ ‘’yes sir ‘’I said gazing at the floor’. “You better do better or you would be out of here in no time” he said.

“’Now get out of my sight”.

I ran to the kitchen letting out a heavy sigh of frustration.

Days turned into weeks, and the cycle of disappointment continued. Each meal I prepared was met with criticism and disdain. Mr. Salvador continued to make my life a living hell. and it weighed heavily on my spirit. I questioned my abilities as a cook, doubting whether I would ever be good enough for his exacting palate. Every time Tessa called I told her about how hellish it’s been working for Mr Salvador and she continues to encourage me that things would get better.

Amidst the turmoil in the mansion, another drama was unfolding.

Sarah, Mr Salvador's girlfriend, was not the loyal partner Mr. Salvador had believed her to be. She had been carrying on a secret affair with her ex-boyfriend, Gabriel, behind his back. The affair had been going on for months, concealed by a web of lies and deceit.

It was rumoured in the Mansion that he had walked in on Sarah having s*x with Gabriel.

One evening, when the other staff and everyone else had retired for the day, I was in the kitchen putting together recipes for the next day's meal. I noticed Mr. Salvador was at the bar, drinking and looking lost in thought. He wandered through the mansion, his thoughts a tumultuous storm of emotions. Eventually, he found himself in the one place he had come to despise - the kitchen.

My back was turned to him as I concentrated on sorting the ingredients for the next day. Then, I faced him and asked, "Do you need me to help you with anything, sir?" He replied, "No," this time not in his usual harsh tone. He opened the fridge and reached for a bottle of water. As he gulped it down, I watched him keenly. He seemed like he had a lot on his mind and needed someone to talk to. As he was about to walk out of the kitchen I took a deep breath and gathered the courage to speak. Are you ok sir? I asked.

Mr. Salvador turned to look at me. He seemed taken aback by my offer. "Why? Is it that obvious?" he asked, his tone less hostile.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "You look troubled, sir," I replied. "I may not know the details of your situation, but I believe that sometimes, talking to someone can provide comfort and clarity. If you want to talk, I am here to listen."

Mr. Salvador regarded me with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. For a moment, he seemed hesitant, but then he sighed and nodded. "Perhaps you're right," he admitted. "I could use someone to talk to."

He looked at me for a while. "You won't understand," he said. "Do not worry about me," he added.

"Are you sure, sir?" I asked again.

"Yes," he said.

"You, why are you not asleep yet?" he asked.

"I am prepping ingredients for breakfast tomorrow," I responded.

"I see," he said with a surprised face.

"What is it about cooking that brings you solace?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, sir. It's just something I've always loved to do. It helps me forget about everything else," I said.

"Nice," he nodded, as if he understood my sentiment. "Cooking can be a form of escape, I suppose. A way to control something in a world that often feels uncontrollable," I added.

"So, you, sir, what are you trying to escape from? I noticed you have been at the bar all evening," I said.

Mr. Salvador hesitated, his guard momentarily lowered. "It's... complicated. My personal life has taken an unexpected turn, and I'm still trying to make sense of it all," he responded.

As he spoke, I couldn't help but see a vulnerable side of Mr. Salvador that I had never witnessed. Behind his façade of wealth and power, he was a man grappling with the pain of betrayal and heartbreak. It was a side of him that few people had the privilege of seeing.

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir. Sometimes life can throw us curveballs when we least expect it," I said.

Over the next few hours, he asked me about my passion for cooking, and I responded by asking about how it felt to live in a world like his, filled with everything he desires in life.

"You should go to bed now; it’s getting really late," he said.

"Okay, sir, you too, sir, and try not to worry about anything. Everything happens for a reason," I said.

"I guess," he responded.

As I was about to take my leave, he beckoned, "Amelia!"

"Sir?" I responded.

"Thank you, and I am sorry for the first day we ever met and the things I said after then."

"You are welcome, sir, I am sorry too," I responded and walked away.