Reality is indeed different from fiction. Regardless of the female lead, the male lead, or the side characters, their fate lies in the author’s hands.

“I’m not gabbing with you any longer. Get the takeout for me when it arrives. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

Amelia plopped down on Tiffany’s one and only bed and dozed off in a matter of seconds.

Sometime later, Amelia was woken up by the fragrant smell of food. She walked out of the bedroom groggily, just in time to see Tiffany setting the dining table.

“Tiff, you cooked? Didn’t I say to order takeout?” Amelia asked, perplexed.

“Well, you’re jilted. I figured I better comfort you with home-cooked food instead.” Tiffany smiled.

doubt and said, “The only time you’re not lazing around like a couch potato is

“Go wash your face and come eat.

I miss it? But hold up—are they actually edible?” Having thrown out her last jab, Amelia hurriedly

head, but her lips curved into a

was later proven that Tiffany’s dishes were not only edible but absolutely scrumptious. That was the only talent she had other than writing manuscripts. As Amelia put it, should her writing career not take off, she could seriously consider being a chef instead. Based on the magic she’d worked in the kitchen that night, it wouldn’t be too bad to be a

I didn’t expect your food to still taste like heaven,” Amelia complimented. “I have full faith that you could compete with Gordon Ramsay if

the gift like a packaged deal. Besides, compared to you who could set fire in the kitchen by simply boiling water, it’s not that hard for me to be fantastic at

before abruptly adding, “Tiff, do you think I could win Oscar Clinton’s heart

he wanted home-cooked food, he has plenty of servants to do the work. When would he need your contribution? If I must say, you should divorce him as soon as possible and earn a comfortable sum of alimony. You’ve been married for four years. Don’t wait

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