MR BILLIONAIRE'S REGRET: CHASING HIS IRRESISTIBLE WIFE

(REBECCA'S POV)

I showed up to work with a ready smile on my face, not for anything in particular -because the day was just as ordinary as any other. I moved through the motions of my role at the restaurant with efficient muscle memory for most of the day. "Who's taking the order for table eight?" Stephen asked as he poked his head into the kitchen.

He was looking brighter than the previous day when Arielle had a visitor. I could tell what upset him so much even though he'd rather we both pretended like that wasn't the reason.

"I am," I finally announced. "It will be ready in a second."

"Alright. We don't want our customers waiting on their orders for so long," he said with a nod before walking away.

I quickly prepared the order, a classic English meal, imagining the couple at the table celebrating something special-perhaps an anniversary or a first date.

"Hello guys," Arielle's voice chimed in as she entered the kitchen. My heart skipped at the sight of her. She looked a bit pale, and her eyes were slightly red. Had she been crying? But despite that, her spirit seemed undampened, and I couldn't help but smile back at her infectious energy.

"Hey, Becca," she nodded specially to me and I nearly bit my tongue from sheer nervousness.

Get a hold of yourself! I cautioned myself.

"Hey, Arielle," I managed to say eventually.

She smiled and headed to the sink to wash her hands before tying on her apron. My excitement bubbled up; I was about to witness the artistry of a culinary genius in action.

"Today I'll be sharing how to make this special Italian dish I learned during my time there. Of course, the recipe is modified with a little bit of the Arielle touch," she said with a wink.

As she began, the kitchen filled with the comforting aroma of heavy cream and vanilla as she heated it up. I watched in awe as she whisked the egg yolks and sugar, effortlessly combining them with the warm cream. Then she poured the mixture into delicate ramekins and set them in a water bath.

Her movements were graceful and confident-this was her domain. I loved seeing her cooking!

After some time in the oven, she pulled out the custards, still slightly jiggly in the center.

"We usually let them chill for at least two hours or overnight, but I'm going to cheat today," she said with a mischievous smile.

Before serving, she sprinkled a thin layer of sugar over each one and expertly caramelized it with a kitchen torch.

"Tada! My signature Crème Brûlée." She beamed, "Come have a taste!"

I couldn't resist diving in. The custard was silky smooth, a perfect balance of rich vanilla flavor and sweetness. As I cracked through the caramel layer, the bittersweet taste mingled beautifully with the creamy custard beneath. It was nothing short of fantastic. Just as I was about to share my thoughts, that young man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Aren't you an epitome of perfection, ma'am?" Stephen m suddenly asked rhetorically, gushing with admiration like a high school teenager. No one had noticed him walk into the room for very obvious reasons (we all had our eyes glued on Arielle's movements).

I would have rolled my eyes at his words if I didn't think the same thing about Arielle-he only beat me by voicing them out to her hearing.

I noticed the slightly embarrassed smile on Arielle's face at the compliment and I instantly wished she'd heard it from me instead.

"Thank you, Stephen, I think no one is perfect," she replied with a humble smile. "I've failed at this dish many times. The first time I made it, My MasterChef scoffed at me like I committed a murder and from then on, I had to make it for her every Tuesday afternoon. It was a nightmare... but I believe we all have the potential to be exceptional, just need more practice right?"Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

"Yeah," Stephen concurred with a

nod. He always agreed with anything she said. I could tell he was hopelessly smitten. It explained why he was hurt that Arielle had received an exceptionally good looking visitor the other day. I shook my head with a small smile at the thought.

"Alright. That'd be all for today," she said and wrapped up things before leaving the kitchen.

"Damn," I heard Stephen sigh deeply in frustration beside me and I finally rolled my eyes in amusement.

"You should probably move on from this crush," I teased, suppressing the urge to voice the painful truth that 'you didn't stand a slightest chance dude.'

"Are you kidding? She's everything Becca! Beautiful, talented, elegant, kind. She's perfect! Remember that customer issue I had? She swooped in with that charming smile and

handled it like a pro. And when net

messed up an order? She didn't blame me at all-just called the supplier and sorted it out quicker than I could've imagined. She's my queen!" he said resolutely with that pink bubble in his eyes which literally made me feel somehow cringe.

"Alright alright, I get it."

"No you don't understand..."

"I really do," I shrugged, "I used to have a crush on her, too," I confessed sincerely, my lips stretched in a mischievous smile.

"No, way," the manager gasped in animated shock. "Are you serious?"

I nodded as a couple of memories flashed through my mind. "Yeah... but that was ages ago. I was just an assistant back then. Arielle was so strong and capable-it was hard to ignore. Well I may have ignored the fact that she had a husband at the time." "Well, I totally feel you Rebecca. I mean who wouldn't fall in love with her?" he carried on gushing.

"Yeah, except for her blind ex-husband," I joked and we both shared a hearty laugh.

"Let me tell you a little secret," I whispered with an air of mischief as I looked around cautiously. "I'm writing this novel online, based on certain real-life people, if you catch my drift," I finished with a wink. "You don't say," Stephen's eyes lit up. "How many secrets do you have! Can I have a look?"

We skimmed through my draft on my tablet together, laughing hysterically at how the male lead in my story-who I 'not-so-coincidentally' modelled after Jared-was being trashed in the reader comments. 'The male lead is so stupid!'

'No man can possibly be that blind!'

'He is just a pathetic and brainless husband who doesn't deserve her at all!'

"Wow...I love your readers Rebecca. They are my mouth stand-in," the manager roared in laughter as I showed him some more comments.

"Wait till you see this week's

comments," chipped and we began laughing again. Our laughter was cut short immediately when Arielle

entered the kitchen. I could han

sworn she literally just teleported into the room because I didn't hear her walk in.

"Did I hear something about an online novel?" Arielle asked with a friendly smile as she walked up to us.

I cursed myself in my head, worried sick about just how much of our conversation she'd actually overhead.

"Umm.. yeah. It's all fictionalized, I swear! Nothing anyone can pick out. I hope it won't upset you, ma'am?" I asked her nervously as I handed the tablet over to her.

As she read, my heart raced. I held my breath, praying she wouldn't be angry. When she looked up at me with a sly smile, my heart lifted.

"Upset? On the contrary, I think your readers could get more creative with their insults," she teased, giving me a playful wink. "And your storytelling is beautiful Becca. I can't wait to read your next chapter."

If words could send a person to the moon and back, I'd have been dancing the hula in space already.