Chapter 4

"For real?" Samantha lifted her head and stared at him, voice laced with annoyance. "No lunch, so I had to just deal with it. And now it's dinnertime, and no one mentions food? Am I supposed to starve here?" Huh? Lucas, who was standing off to the side, nearly choked on air. Just "dealt with it"? That massive burger and the whole bottle of soda—who exactly was she "dealing" that to? Watching Alexander's face turn darker by the second, Lucas felt his scalp tingling. Afraid they'd explode in another argument, he jumped in quickly, "Mrs. Perkins, did you forget? Madam Henrietta's supposed to join you both for dinner tonight. It's about time to start prepping." Samantha's eyes widened, disbelief written all over her face as she pointed to herself. "You want me to make dinner? Is this a joke? Doesn't the great Perkins family have chefs on payroll?" Lucas blinked. "Ma'am, you haven't forgotten, right? Every month, Madam Henrietta comes over to dine with Mr. Perkins and you. She likes to catch up, but after dinner, she'll also keep an eye..." "Lucas, that's enough." Alexander frowned. The last thing he wanted was Lucas blabbing the real reason Henrietta came over—so she could micromanage their marriage and rush them into having a baby. That way, Caitlin could pop one out soon and carry on the Perkins bloodline. But Samantha wasn't letting it go. Her eyes locked on Lucas, teasing out the rest of his words. "Keep an eye on what?" "Uh..." Lucas scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Mrs. Perkins, it's getting late. You should really head to the kitchen. Otherwise, there's no way to explain things to Madam Henrietta when she arrives." "Ugh, half-said stuff is so lame," Samantha huffed, turning her head aside, though thoughts were already spinning in her mind. This dinner wasn't just a family meal—it was a performance for her dear mother-in-law. She remembered what Ethan told her: Henrietta only agreed to let Caitlin marry into the Perkins family because some so-called fortune teller claimed Caitlin's birth chart was a golden ticket—tied to wealth, kids, and bringing prosperity to her husband. But Caitlin had been here over a year and not a single sign of a baby. Alexander barely even came back to this house. Henrietta hadn't gotten her grandchild and was fuming. Now she came monthly, under the pretense of family dinner, but really just to micromanage things and pressure them into sharing a bed. Tonight's visit? Probably more of the same. A cold smirk tugged at Samantha's lips. If they dared push her to sleep with Alexander... she'd make sure that smug bastard regretted ever breathing. A pang of sorrow hit her all of a sudden. Her sister—married into a rich family, sure—but stuck with a husband colder than winter and a mother-in-law who wouldn't back off. What kind of life was that supposed to be? Henrietta, matriarch of the empire that was the Perkins Group in Lichester, was no joke. But Samantha was ready now—time to play this little dinner game her way. Without realizing, she clenched her fists, that flicker of ice in her eyes sharp and deadly. Unfortunately—or perhaps not—she didn't notice Alexander was watching, picking up on every tiny shift. He narrowed his eyes slightly. That glance just now... was that hate? Alexander had barely stayed at the house since the wedding, but he made sure fifty grand landed in her account every month. She didn't lack for anything. Didn't care what she did as long as she stayed out of trouble. By all accounts, Caitlin lived a life of privilege. Although the two of them were little more than strangers—he didn't care for her, their relationship hadn't descended into hatred. But then why did she come back from that five-day disappearance, glaring at everyone here like they personally betrayed her? Watching her retreat toward the kitchen, Alexander's gaze darkened. Something was up. He crooked a finger at Lucas and muttered by his ear, "Find out where she's been the last few days. Who she's met." Samantha walked into the kitchen, obviously not in the mood. Her sister had been bullied badly by this family—she wasn't here to cook for them, she was here for payback! But then she thought things through. Coming back all alone and picking a fight with those jerks who messed with Caitlin might be tough. Since Alexander was filthy rich, there was definitely something in it she could use. So, for now, she'd suck it up and play the daughter-in-law role, whipping up a meal to greet that annoying "grandmother-in-law." She took a lap around the kitchen and quickly hit a wall—when it came to Calverian food, she could barely get past boxed mac and cheese or microwaveable pancakes. Samantha had grown up in Farsenia with her dad. After he passed away, she ended up in an orphanage until a Calverian family living abroad adopted her. But by then, they'd fully embraced the local cuisine, so classic Calverian dishes? Not something she ever really learned. Farsenian cuisine, though? That was a whole different story. And it was all thanks to this Farsenian boy who had a crush on her back in school. His dad happened to be a Michelin-starred chef who owned a top-tier restaurant. Every time they went out to eat, the dad would personally cook for them. The food was so good, she practically became a foodie overnight—and begged to learn. Turns out, her appetite came with a hidden talent that was about to come in handy. Samantha rolled up her sleeves and got to work in the oversized, near-professional kitchen. Even the kitchen screamed luxury. The massive fridge was fully stocked—ingredients neatly arranged in labeled containers, spices and condiments lined up like they belonged in a gourmet catalog. As she rummaged through the shelves, her eyes lit up—there were tons of Farsenian sauces, herbs, and specialty items. She'd been worried about the ingredients, but now? Jackpot. Then she remembered something Lucas had told her: no matter how good Caitlin's cooking was, Alexander never cared. Cold, as always. So... he didn't like Calverian food? She frowned slightly, then looked around at all the Farsenian ingredients and suddenly snapped her fingers. Bingo. So he didn't appreciate her sister's home cooking, huh? Well then—watch me blow your mind with some real-deal Farsenian cuisine. After a whirlwind of chopping, grilling, and plating, the table was covered with tempting Farsenian classics. Chocolate glazed pancakes, seared duck breast with balsamic glaze, hearty seafood stew, roasted lamb and potatoes, mussels in white wine, slow-braised beef in red wine sauce, and soft-boiled goose egg with truffle sauce. As the help carried the dishes to the dining room, Samantha calmly tossed together the final one back in the kitchen—her signature mixed veggie salad. She'd made the vinaigrette herself, and it was perfect—sweet with just the right tang, super refreshing. She grabbed a handful wearing disposable gloves and couldn't resist popping some into her mouth. "Mmm, not bad at all," she mumbled to herself, the tangy dressing dripping down her lips. With one arm still holding the salad bowl and the other too messy to wipe her mouth, she leaned in, tongue out, trying to lick the dressing off the corner of her lip. A pale, slender hand suddenly came into view, gently wiping her mouth. Startled, Samantha froze mid-move, clutching the salad bowl and backing away as her wide eyes scanned the kitchen. Seriously? Who shows up like that out of nowhere? Alexander took a tissue from Lucas and calmly wiped his fingers clean, that usual poker face not showing the slightest reaction. "You're insane!" she huffed, rolling her eyes hard. "You scared the hell outta me! What, worried I poisoned the food or something?" Alexander didn't say a word, his face unreadable, but there was definitely a glint of amusement in his deep eyes. That incredible smell from the dining room... it had actually made him hungry. Just what else was this woman hiding from him?