Chapter 407 Table Salt

In Cherise’s memory, every detail from the previous day played out like a vivid scene. She couldn’t help but blush, her face resembling a blazing crimson sunset, yet she nodded with a sweet smile and said, “I could use a little something to eat.”

“I’ll make some pasta for you,” the man offered.

He responded with a warm smile and gracefully made room for her. On the bedside table behind. him sat a plate of bolognese meatball pasta.

Cherise gazed at the dish and then back at Damien. “Did you… make this?”

It was evident that this was his first attempt at preparing a meal for her.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

A sheepish chuckle escaped him. “I gave it a try; it might not be as good as your cooking, but it’s

edible.”

Cherise found herself in stunned silence. Her eyes widened in disbelief. He… actually cooked for

me?

Damien, having been born into a life of privilege, had never felt the need to enter the kitchen, let alone acquire cooking skills, as he always had cooks and helpers at his disposal.

their house had never been without a chef. He was the kind of

person

breath, picked up her fork, and took a bite. It was decent, though it seemed he

salt; it’s a bit bland,” she said, trying to

her. “Let me do it.” He double-checked, “You

man rose from his seat and quickly

a bottle

her pasta and gave it a stir. However, there was

sweetness to the taste.

had handed her, and it, too, turned out to be sweet. It

help but laugh at the

1/2

got out of bed. “I think

her arm. “I’ll go. What do you need?”

he seemed particularly helpful today, and a vague sense of foreboding began to creep into

pushed his hand away. “It’s

hurried downstairs,

a strong burnt smell wafting from the

followed the source of the

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