FROM CHEF TO BILLION-DOLLAR HEIRESS

Evelli neatly spooned a lemonade curry sauce over a perfectly grilled salmon before adding the final garnish. Once she was satisfied with the dish presentation, she pushed the plate towards the waiting server. “Table ten,” She said, her voice laced with fatigue. The waitress nodded and hurried away with the dish. Evelli reached for another order ticket and exhaled silently. She had been on her feet for almost six hours, and hadn't shut her eyes for over 15 hours. There's still six hours left before the end of her shift. “Have you heard of it?” The question came from one of the servers. Evelli glanced up briefly. She watched as a young waitress rushed in with a big smile on her face. “The customer at table ten wants to meet the chef that created the lemonade curry salmon recipe.” Every chef in the kitchen, their eyes shifted towards a particular direction and Evelli's eyes followed their gazes. Chef Bernard. Her boss. The owner of Grill & more restaurants. The man is currently being praised for a recipe he doesn't know how its existence has come about. “Oh my, really?” Bernard asked, pretending not to be flattered. “Did they enjoy the meal?” “Enjoy? That's an understatement.” The young waitress smiled happily. “They said that was the best meal that I have ever tasted from a restaurant and the best thing they've eaten this month.” Everyone gasped. “Wow.” The staff clapped and offered congratulations to him. Bernard accepted every compliment with a big smile, while still acting not to be flattered by the reviews. Acting like an all mighty chef with extraordinary skill. Meanwhile Evelli returned to what she was doing. She lowered her gaze to the cutting board in front of her and continued chopping the spring onions. The knife moved steadily in her hands as her chest tightened at every move. The only thing she could feel was a burning sting inside her because the lemonade curry salmon wasn't Bernard's idea. It was hers. Her creation and perfect execution. She had spent sleepless nights and her leisure time perfecting the recipe. Two weeks of sleepless nights, experimenting different ingredients after work hours, disposing of the imperfect ones until she finally feels she has created the recipe that would leave a lasting impression on customers — what she calls the perfect smile recipe. One night which was days ago she discovered the recipe has been torn from her recipe book after hiding it so well. And a week later it appeared on the restaurant menu and guess who was the chef. Bernard. Unfortunately this wasn't the first time. Not the second time Not the third time. Every other recipe on the restaurant menu was her idea, her invention, her baby that she had nurtured in her head. She doesn't know how her recipe always ends up in her boss's hand after hiding it so well from him. For three years she had watched her boss receive praises, recognition and accolades for her ideas. Every time she develops a recipe that attracts attention, someone else claims ownership. Every time customers compliment a meal she had created, another person receives the praises. She had thought of speaking up countless times but reality always finds a way of hitting her - letting her know of the bills she has to take care of. So she swallowed everything silently but not until now. “Evelli.” She paused and looked up. The chef beside her gave her a nudge and then she knew why. Because she had been staring at Bernard all these while as she was chopping the spring onions. She couldn't control the anger building in her. She held the knife as she charged towards him. “Chef Bernard,” She called, forcing a smile on her face. Letting him know the smile on her face has no bit of sincerity. “Yes, what can I do for you?” She swung the knife fastly at his face and everyone watched, stunned. Her heart thumped fast as she tightened her grip on the knife. She bites her lips down tightly, trying to control herself from making him unable to breathe. “You can do a lot for me. The lemonade curry salmon,” She said and stopped swinging the knife in his face. “And what about it? I don't have time for these irresponsible games and time to waste.” he said, coughing, hardening his face. A smirk played at the corner of his lips for a few seconds. “Neither do I. Those customers are praising my recipe and you taking credit for it,” She yelled angrily, pointing towards the dining area. Exploding the emotions she has been suppressing for months. The kitchen went silent and the cooks all looked away, finding something to do immediately. Because everyone knows the truth and lacks the audacity to say the facts. He shouted back. “Your recipe. Watch what you say. Do you have proof? Huh? Do you have any proof!!!!” His cocky smile and loud defense grated against her nerves. She doesn't have proof. And even if she does, her boss has connections, while her, she might be silenced forever. “Look, those recipes are mine. Let me remind you of something. This restaurant existed before you arrived, and it will continue existing long after you're gone.” The statement felt like a slap. Evelli clenched her fists against the knife tightly. "One day, people will know who actually created those recipes,” She muttered to his face, yielding to defeat. Raymond chuckled, as he took a step closing the last inches between them. "One day? You can't even afford to leave this place. You're going to rot here until I decide to let you go because who's going to pay you better than I do? Grow up, Evelli." He was right. And his words hit her like a punch. "If you value your position here, I suggest you stop making ridiculous accusations." "And if I don't?" His eyes narrowed. "Then you'll be unemployed before tomorrow morning." She let out a dry laugh,not because the situation is funny but because arguing further is going to be pointless. The confrontation ends but the humiliation and defeat lingers in the air. After six hours, Evelli left the restaurant. She headed home, walking sluggishly as Bernard drained every living energy in her. Now all she just wants to do is to get home, shower, eat noodles and sleep. She got home within twenty minutes. She got to the second floor and reached for her house key. But stopped when she got to the third floor. Five unfamiliar men stood outside her apartment door. Their faces were hardened. Her head screamed danger and thought of running out when one of them noticed her. “Evelli Moore?” Her grip on her bag tightened, ready to swing it at them. “And you are?” Instead of answering immediately, the man pulled a folder from beneath his arm and passed it to a man who posed to be the leader. "We need to discuss an outstanding debt." Evelli frowned, scoffing at them. "I don't owe anyone money so go straight to the point." The man opened the folder. "This debt belongs to Martha Moore. Don't you know her?" The moment she heard her mother's name, her heart tightened. "Martha Moore is my mother." "Then you're exactly who we're looking for,” He said. He handed her several documents. Evelli accepted them reluctantly. The moment she saw the amount listed, her breath caught. $500,000. Her eyes widened. "There has to be a mistake." "There isn't." "My mother couldn't have borrowed this. It's not possible,” She asserted firmly but the men didn't move. Five years ago, Martha Moore disappeared without any explanation, call, goodbye or message. Police investigated and closed the case as a runaway case after some months of negative results. Yet these men were standing here claiming she borrowed hundreds of thousands of dollars. It made no absolute sense. None at all. "My mother has been missing for five years," Evelli said, gritting her teeth. Almost yelling at them. "Then that's unfortunate." His cold response made her scoff. According to the paperwork, the debt was valid, payment was overdue, and responsibility now fell to the next available family member. Evelli. "You have forty-eight hours to settle the debt." She laughed in disbelief. "Do I look like someone who has five hundred thousand dollars? I barely have one thousand dollars, talk more than five hundred thousand." His expression never changed. "That isn't our concern." "And if I can't pay?" She asked, staring at him, her grip tightened on the paper folder. “You are fresh and that's valuable so you will be auctioned off to the highest bidder.”