Under the heiress facade

An hour later, a blue Bugatti Veyron arrived at a neighborhood in the suburbs.

It was a familiar place to Hera as she owned a house here. While she was guessing in her head, Tyler drove into one of the mansions, which happened to be right next to her house. "I thought we were going to have lunch, no?" she asked.

"We are going to have lunch, but having your homecooked dishes is more meaningful than eating in a restaurant." He got out of the car and opened the car door for her. Words failed her. She had let her guard down. She shouldn't have let him make the choice.

Nevertheless, she didn't refuse. With Tiramisu in her arms, she alighted from the car and scanned the area. There were no suspicious people or cars for now.

She began to wonder if she was overthinking about the man she saw in the garden.

Tyler noticed that something was wrong with her, but he didn't say a word about it. He opened the door and led her to the kitchen.

Hera, who was hungry, put Tiramisu down. "What would you like to have?"

Tyler enumerated a menu without hesitation, "Chicken fried steak, Bashville hot chicken, apple pie, meatloaf, and lamb stew..."

She opened the refrigerator only to find it empty. There were a few bottles of beer, two eggs, and a half packet of noodles. No one knew how long it had been there. When she took it out and checked it, it had already expired.

Tyler fell into silence. An idea occurred to him. He landed his gaze on Tiramisu, who had been sniffing around the

flash, he grabbed Tiramisu and put it on the cutting board. "The ingredient you brought along will work. We can slaughter it right now and have fresh

kicked his hand away and jumped off the counter before hiding behind Hera. It oinked a few times in protest. She squatted down and caressed

and snuggled into her arms before looking back, staring at Tyler

going to let me cook for you." She carried Tiramisu

We might as well scare the daylight out of it, then. Come, put it in the pot," Tyler teased. "Shut up, you!" Hera

"I can't believe I'm nothing compared to a pig. I'm your mentor, Hera. How could you do

time and effort teachingol

and yet, you wouldn't

teacher," Hera repeated in her head to

Tiramisu with one hand and took her phone

a peak

cook something for me.

her gaze and tapped on her phone screen

later, the deliveryman delivered the ingredients