Mr billionaire's regret chasing his irresistible wife by Gabby Emmanuel

The velvet Fork

(ARIELLE'S POV)

So this was it-The Velvet Fork, our rival restaurant.

"We're going deep undercover," Stephen declared, adjusting his fake mustache and patting down the ridiculous green wig perched on his head.

I sighed, already regretting agreeing to this. "Are you sure that disguise won't just make you more obvious?"

"Obvious? Ha! You're the obvious one!" Rebecca retorted, tilting her enormous sunhat so low it practically swallowed her face. Her oversized sunglasses weren't helping her blend in, either.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Neither of you can talk. We all look like a bad comedy sketch."

"Speak for yourself," Stephen said with mock indignation, twirling his fake mustache. "I'm a method actor. This is art."

I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head at their antics. Once inside, I managed to steer us toward something resembling a logical plan. "Let's get a table, place an order, and observe their operations," I suggested, adjusting my own dark shades. Stephen straightened his wig. "Got it. Time to give an Oscar-worthy performance."

Rebecca smiled mischievously. "Time to put my spy skills into use and gather as much intel as we need."

We spotted an empty table of three and approached, taking our seats. Afterwards, we beckoned a waiter, and he handed us a menu.

As we skimmed through, our eyes widened in unison. I quickly forced a neutral expression when the waiter asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no, not at all," I said with a too-bright smile, handing back the menu. "Your design is... impressive."

He smiled, his face relaxing. "Can I take your orders now?"

"Of course. I'll have grilled chicken and rice," I said.

"And I'll have the chicken parmesan," Stephen chimed.

"I will have the vegetarian quinoa bowl," Rebecca said.

The waiter scribbled the orders on his iPad before walking away. The moment he was out of earshot, Stephen, who was already fuming, spoke up.

"That menu is a ripoff! It's basically ours! Even the design!"

but furious. "They didn't just copy the look; they stole

gritted my teeth. They weren't wrong. "It's infuriating, but let's not make a scene," I said,

commented. "Their chicken sauce is over-reduced by the way, and the

a waiter was nearby and he seemed to have overheard Rebecca as he looked in our direction. He finished tending

us

the restaurant we visited yesterday. Their sauce was nothing to write home about," Rebecca quickly chimed, forcing a

Stephen and I

just drawing a comparison,"

sure that was the case, I heard

our covers are blown.

dish with my experienced and professional eyes, I knew

me, but I believe this chicken

even flicker. "That's how it's meant to be served," he said dismissively. "Perhaps you're unfamiliar with international cuisine? This is inspired by the Japanese and Spanish

I've been to Japan and

and scooped up some rice. The texture was

we should take a sample to a lab. You know, for

keep a straight face as he added, "Or a journalist. 'Velvet Fork serves

I stood, carefully placing my napkin

and rose from my seat. Rebecca and Stephen's concerned

right back,"

the restroom, grateful for a momentary

down," I whispered, staring at my reflection in

the steady rhythm helping to calm my racing nerves. With my emotions under control adjusted my muffler and prepared to leave. But just

spread rumors about their food

review campaign on their app. She thinks she can just waltz back from Italy and outshine us," a man added, his tone dripping with

tensing. Were they talking

place is going down soon," the

as possible, my mind reeling. Once I was sure they wouldn't notice me, I slipped out of the restroom, my legs moving on autopilot as I returned

looked up, alarmed. "What's

Sunging

need to leave. Now," I said, my voice sharp and

confusion, then promptly panicked. "What happened? Did they find out we're spying? Are they coming for us?" His voice cracked as his wig shifted dangerously on his

curious and

I mouthed, gesturing