Sweet Revenge, Hot Romance

Chapter 7

I turned to face Mr. Cross, who motioned for me to come in. The warmth of the penthouse felt like a comforting embrace after the cold night and the even colder fear I had just faced.

“I know you must be exhausted,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “Would you like some food before you rest?”

“No, thank you,” I replied, my stomach still feeling the effects of Chef Donovan’s earlier feast. “I think I'll just go to sleep for now.”

“Very well,” Mr. Cross said, undeterred. “We’ll prepare some midnight snacks for you. You can take them to your room in case you feel hungry later.”

I was about to refuse, but the thought of Chef Donovan’s exquisite cooking made me reconsider. My earlier meal had been so delicious. I felt like I could go for days without eating, but his snacks would be worth it.

“That would be very kind,” I said, a small, grateful smile forming on my lips. “And thank you for earlier, too. The cash you gave me came in handy. I hadn't thought that far ahead.”

“That was all Mr. Crane’s foresight,” he explained, a hint of pride in his voice. “He had me prepare some cash for you in case you left. He knew you didn't have anything on you, so he made all the necessary arrangements.”

“Oh,” I said, the word catching in my throat.

I found myself wondering who this man was and how important he must be to have everything so under control. He had a private bodyguard, a chef, and a butler at his beck and call. He had even outsmarted Jay, who was clearly a dangerous and well-connected man. He had the power and resources to make it look like his henchmen had carried out their plan and then vanished, a feat that would have required significant manpower and money. I was determined to find out who this man was.

“This way, Ms. Hastings,” Mr. Cross said, pulling me from my reverie.

I followed him into the dining room. “Just wait here a moment. I’ll have the chef prepare something simple for you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry for all this trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Ms. Hastings. We’re here to serve you, so please feel free to ask for anything you need,” he said, before disappearing into the kitchen.

I was left alone with my thoughts. The television was on, but my mind was too preoccupied to focus on it. I found it strange that the butler and chef were still awake at this hour, but then I remembered Mr. Crane’s meticulous attention to detail. He had likely called ahead and had them wait for my return. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to know the identity of my rescuer.

Just then, Chef Donovan came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray filled with an assortment of snacks. "Ms. Hastings, it's good to have you back," he said with a warm smile. My mouth watered at the sight, despite my full stomach.

“Thank you, Chef Donovan. I feel like I’ve troubled you both a lot tonight,” I said apologetically.

“It was no trouble, Ms. Hastings. I’d still be in the kitchen even if you weren't here, so don't you worry about me.”

“Oh? Coming up with new recipes, I presume?”

“You could say that,” he said, a light in his eyes. “I love experimenting with food. Sometimes I stay up for 36 hours straight.”

His passion for his work was evident, and it made me smile. “Wow. That’s real passion. No wonder your food is out-of-this-world.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. “But thank you. I’m glad you enjoy it.”

“It’s more than enjoyment,” I gushed. “It’s amazing.” I couldn’t wait for my next meal. The thought of the snacks on the tray, of their taste and how they would melt in my mouth, made all my worries disappear for a moment. My stomach, which I had just thought was too full for anything else, suddenly felt ready for more.

"Here you go, Ms. Hastings. And don't hesitate to ask if you need anything. We’re here for you."

The soft voice pulled me back from my food-fueled daydream. I blinked, realizing Chef Donovan had left and it was now Mr. Cross handing me a tray laden with an assortment of pastries and fruits. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. How had I become such a foodie in just a few hours? Then again, Chef Donovan’s creations could turn anyone into a connoisseur of fine cuisine.

"Thank you, Mr. Cross," I said, taking the tray.

"I can show you the way to your room, in case you've forgotten your bearings," he offered with a gentle smile.

"That would be a lifesaver, thanks. With everything that's happened, I'm not sure I could find my way back on my own."

"That's understandable. It must have been incredibly traumatizing." His voice was filled with genuine sympathy.

"It was. I don't know what I would have done without your boss. I owe him so much. It's like he understands my situation better than I do," I said, a wry chuckle escaping me.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. No ordinary person could have seen this coming. My boss, though, he's been through a lot. He's able to see things coming that most people can't," Mr. Cross said, his gaze distant, as if lost in a memory.