Endless love

CHAPTER 1:TASHA

I searched through the market stalls, grabbing everything I needed for my meal — vegetables, oil, peas, pepper. All accounted for. But something tugged at the back of my mind. One important ingredient was missing. I paused, trying to recall it, but nothing came.

My dish was a beef meal — rich, savory, and demanding perfection. Then it hit me: breadcrumbs. I scanned the shelves frantically, but none were in sight.

No time to panic. I focused on what I had and did justice to them. Today was the final competition — the moment I’d worked so hard for. I couldn’t afford to lose. Not now. I rolled up my sleeves and let my culinary skills take the stage.

I glanced at the clock — only fifteen minutes left. My pulse quickened. I gently took the beef off the grill, setting it aside before sprinkling my signature spices across its golden surface. The aroma filled the air, rich and smoky.

Quickly, I finely chopped my onions and tomatoes, then arranged the neatly grilled beef on the plate, adding the garnishes with precision. Every detail mattered. I placed the final touch just as the bell rang.

The judges began tasting the dishes, one by one. My heart pounded when it was finally my turn.

The head judge took the first bite. A small smile tugged at his lips. He chewed slowly, letting the flavor linger before speaking.

“Tell me about it,” he said, gesturing toward my plate.

I smiled, trying to sound calm. “This meal was made for me in my childhood. My mom cooked it every day.”

He nodded. “So, what’s it called?”

“Chicken Fry Steak,” I replied.

He chuckled, and the other judges followed. “There’s no chicken in this,” he said, amused.

I laughed softly. “Well, that’s true. I don’t know why it’s called that—but that’s the name.”

He smiled and gestured for me to return to my table.

Hours passed as the judges calculated their scores. The youngest among them stepped forward to announce the results. The room fell silent. My hands trembled as I waited for the verdict.

Ladies and gentlemen,” the youngest judge announced, his voice echoing through the hall, “this is what we’ve all been waiting for. The winner of this competition is…”

I held my breath, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Ms. Tasha Knight!”

For a second, I couldn’t move. My name hung in the air, and disbelief washed over me. Then it hit me—I’d won. This was a dream come true.

They handed me the trophy and a bouquet of flowers, along with a few other awards. I thanked everyone over and over again, smiling so much that my cheeks began to ache. The show ended beautifully, the audience still clapping as I stepped off the stage.

“Hey, mia cara. Congratulations,” a deep, familiar voice said behind me.

I turned around—and there he was. He handed me a bouquet of red roses, his eyes warm and proud. Then he leaned in and kissed me. My heart fluttered; it was perfect.

I rubbed my eyes sleepily, still dazed by the moment. “You didn’t tell me you were coming,” I murmured.

The competition had been held in New York, but he lived all the way in Rome, Italy. I smiled as we walked out together toward his car, the city lights glowing softly around us.

On the way, he showed me something on his phone. “Look,” he said with a grin. “You’ll love this.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I already do,” I whispered. “I love this monster.”