Chapter 5

The sun glittered through the glass windows, casting a golden hue across the lavish bedroom. Everything seemed to shimmer, the opulence of the room a stark contrast to Seraphina's current state of mind. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking against the light. She stretched languidly and then rose from the bed, her silk pyjamas rustling softly as she made her way to the bathroom.

"It's been 48 hours that I've been here," she muttered to herself, splashing water on her face to wake up. "And I haven't set my eyes on Lucien Salvatore. They said this was his house. I've already signed the marriage contract, but I didn't see him. He had already signed the contract before I signed mine."

Seraphine stared at her reflection in the mirror, her mind racing. "I don't want to go home to see my dad," she whispered, the thought of facing him sending a shiver down her spine. "I need to appreciate Bob for what he has done for me. But I don't know how."

She sighed deeply, running a brush through her hair. "I know! I need to prepare a delicious meal for him. But I don't know how to cook. I've never done anything by myself since I was born."

Determined, she freshened up, packed her hair into a neat ponytail, and donned a white tank top and shorts. "I think I need to try watching YouTube videos," she decided, grabbing her phone and heading downstairs to the kitchen.

The kitchen was bustling with activity as the maids prepared breakfast. Seraphine paused at the doorway, feeling a pang of nervousness. Summoning her courage, she stepped inside. "Excuse me, everyone," she called out. The maids turned to look at her, their expressions curious.

"I'd like to prepare the food myself today," Saraphine announced. The maids exchanged glances, unsure if they should comply.

"Miss, are you sure? We're here to help you," one of the maids said kindly.

Seraphine nodded, trying to project confidence. "Yes, I'm sure. Please, I insist."

Reluctantly, the maids stepped aside, leaving Seraphina alone in the grand kitchen. She took a deep breath and pulled up a cooking tutorial on her phone. "Okay, let's start with something simple," she murmured, scrolling through the video. "Onions. I can handle onions."

She pulled out an onion and a knife, placing them on the cutting board. The video showed a chef expertly chopping onions into neat, even pieces. Seraphina frowned, trying to mimic the technique. Her first attempt sent onion pieces flying across the counter.

"Oops," she giggled nervously, glancing around to make sure no one saw her blunder. Determined, she tried again, this time holding the onion more firmly. The knife slipped, and she barely missed cutting her finger.

"Okay, this is harder than it looks," she muttered, wiping her brow. She took a deep breath and watched the video again, this time paying closer attention to the chef's movements.

Her third attempt was slightly better, but the pieces were still uneven, and her eyes were starting to water from the onion's strong aroma. "Why does this happen?" she complained, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. "Why do people cry while cutting onions?"

A maid peeked around the corner, hiding a smile. "Do you need any help, Miss?"

"No, no, I've got this!"Seraphina insisted, waving her hand. "Thank you, though."

She managed to chop the onion into something resembling the pieces in the video. Feeling a small sense of accomplishment, she moved on to the next step: sautéing them in a pan. She turned on the stove, staring at the knobs with a mix of confusion and determination.

"Medium heat," she read from the video. "Okay, medium heat." She turned the knob and set the pan on the burner, adding a splash of oil. The oil sizzled immediately, causing her to jump back in surprise.

"Whoa, that's hot!" she exclaimed, laughing at herself. She added the chopped onions to the pan, stirring them tentatively with a wooden spoon.

As the onions began to cook, the aroma filled the kitchen, mixing with the smell of burning oil. "Is it supposed to smell like that?"Seraphina wondered aloud, her brow furrowing in concern.

The maid, unable to contain her amusement, stepped in again. "Maybe you should lower the heat a bit, Miss," she suggested gently.

Seraphina nodded, quickly adjusting the knob. "Right, lower heat. Got it." She stirred the onions, watching as they slowly turned golden brown.

Feeling more confident, she moved on to the next ingredients in the video. "Garlic and tomatoes," she recited, pulling them from the fridge. She attempted to chop the garlic, but it proved even more challenging than the onions. Bits of garlic stuck to the knife and her fingers, making her laugh in frustration.

"Why is this so sticky?" she asked, shaking her hands.

Finally, she added the garlic and tomatoes to the pan, stirring everything together. The mixture began to sizzle, and despite the chaos, the smell of cooking food was starting to make her feel proud.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," she said, smiling at the bubbling sauce. But as she reached for a spice jar, her phone slipped from the counter, landing with a clatter on the floor.

"Oh no!" she cried, quickly picking it up. The screen was intact, but she had lost her place in the video. She frantically tried to find the right spot while keeping an eye on the pan, which was now bubbling furiously.

In her haste, she knocked over a jar of salt, spilling its contents across the counter. "Great," she sighed, scooping up a handful and tossing it into the pan. "A little extra seasoning never hurt anyone."

By the time the dish was done, Seraphina was exhausted, but she felt a strange sense of satisfaction. She plated the food, garnishing it with a sprig of parsley she had found in the fridge.

Stepping back, she admired her work. "It's not perfect, but it's made with effort," she said to herself, feeling a small spark of pride. She couldn't wait to see Lucien's reaction and hoped her attempts at cooking would be appreciated, even if it wasn't perfect.

She cleaned up the kitchen, her movements more confident now, and carried the plate to the dining room, ready to face whatever reactions her cooking might bring.

Just as she was setting the table, Lucien Salvatore walked in, his presence filling the room with an intimidating aura. Seraphina's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. He was as imposing as she remembered, with sharp, calculating eyes and a demeanour that commanded respect.

"Bob," Seraphina called out, a nervous smile plastered on her face. "You've done so much for me. This is the smallest token I can offer to show my gratitude." She gestured to the plate of food, her heart pounding in her chest.

Lucien raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her initiative. "You cooked this?" He asked, scepticism evident in his voice.

"Yes, I did," she replied, trying to sound confident. "Please, sit down and try it."

Reluctantly, Lucien took a seat at the table. He picked up a spoon and hesitated for a moment before scooping a small portion of the food, Seraphina watched with bated breath as he brought the spoon to his mouth.

The moment the food touched his tongue, Lucien's eyes widened in shock. He quickly spat it out, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth. "What on earth is this?" he exclaimed, his face contorted in disgust.

Seraphina's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Is it that bad?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Lucien coughed, struggling to compose himself. "Let's just say it's... an acquired taste."

"Well, what do you expect?" she retorted, crossing her arms. "I've never cooked before in my life. I was trying to do something nice."

Lucien's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "Nice? If this is your idea of nice, I'd hate to see what your idea of cruel is."

Seraphina's frustration bubbled over. "You're lucky you didn't choke to death on it," she shot back, her tone fierce. "I was just trying to show my gratitude, Bob. You don't have to be such a jerk about it."

Lucien's eyes flashed with anger. "You think this is a joke? I don't have time for your pathetic attempts at playing house."

Seraphina took a step forward, her fists clenched. "Maybe if you weren't so insufferable, people wouldn't have to try so hard to get through to you!"

"Watch your tone," Lucien warned, his voice dangerously low. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

"Oh, I know exactly who I'm dealing with, "Seraphina snapped. "A cold-hearted bastard who wouldn't know gratitude if it hit him in the face."

Lucien stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You're testing my patience, Seraphina. This arrangement of ours doesn't mean you can speak to me any way you like."

"And it doesn't mean you can treat me like dirt," she retorted, refusing to back down. "I may not be a master chef, but I deserve a little respect."

Lucien glared at her for a long moment, the tension between them crackling like electricity. Finally, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Saraphine alone with her half-eaten disaster of a meal. She stood there for a moment, her heart racing, before collapsing into a chair, her head in her hands.

"What did I expect?" she whispered to herself, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. "That he would suddenly appreciate my effort?"

Determined not to let Lucien's harsh words get to her, Seraphina stood up and cleared the table. She threw the food away, making a mental note to learn more about cooking before attempting another culinary gesture. With a deep breath, she decided to explore the house, hoping to distract herself from the morning's fiasco.

The mansion was even more impressive up close. Every detail screamed wealth and power, from the gold-leaf accents to the intricate marble floors. As she wandered through the halls, she found herself in a grand library. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, the rich scent of leather and old paper filling the air.

"Wow," she murmured, running her fingers over the spines of the books. "If only my dad could see this."

As she browsed the titles, her mind kept drifting back to Lucien. His reaction, his cold demeanour—it all intrigued her more than she cared to admit. There was something beneath that hard exterior, something she was determined to uncover.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door slamming. She turned to see Lucien standing at the entrance to the library, his expression a mixture of surprise and irritation.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Seraphina straightened, meeting his gaze head-on. "I'm exploring. Is that a crime now?"

Lucien's eyes narrowed. "This is my private sanctuary. You don't belong here."

Seraphina raised an eyebrow, undeterred by his hostility. "And why is that? Because you think I'm not good enough to be here?"

"Because you're a distraction," he snapped. "I have important work to do, and I don't need you getting in the way."

"Maybe if you weren't such a control freak, you'd realize that you could use a distraction now and then," she retorted, crossing her arms.

Lucien took a step closer, his presence intimidating but not enough to make her back down. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then enlighten me," she challenged. "What is it that you do all day in your precious sanctuary?"

"I handle business," he replied tersely. "Things you wouldn't understand."

Seraphina laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. "Business? Do you mean making deals and breaking people? Yeah, I've seen your type before."

Lucien's jaw tightened. "You don't know anything about me."

"Maybe I want to," she said softly, her eyes searching his. "Maybe I want to understand why you're so determined to push everyone away."

For a moment, something flickered in Lucien's eyes, a glimpse of vulnerability quickly masked by his usual coldness. "You're wasting your time," he said, turning away. "Get out of here Seraphina watched him for a moment, her frustration giving way to a determination she hadn't felt before. "Fine," she said, walking past him. "But don't think for a second that I'm giving up. I'll find a way to break through that ice of yours, Bob. Just you wait."

As she left the library, Lucien stood still, her words echoing in his mind. She was a complication he hadn't anticipated, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't ignore the spark of intrigue she ignited in him.

Back in her room, Seraphina sat on the edge of her bed, her mind racing with thoughts of Lucien. She had always prided herself on her ability to understand people, to see beneath their masks. But Lucien was different. He was a puzzle she was determined to solve, no matter how many pieces it took.

"I'll figure you out," she whispered to herself, her resolve hardening. "And when I do, maybe we can both find what we're looking for."

Meanwhile, Lucien retreated to his study, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Saraphine's defiance, her determination—it was both infuriating and fascinating. He couldn't afford to let her get under his skin, yet here he was, thinking about her more than he should.

He sat at his desk, trying to focus on the documents before him, but her words kept echoing in his mind. She had challenged him in a way no one else had, and he found himself reluctantly admiring her courage.

With a frustrated sigh, he pushed the papers aside and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "What are you doing to me, Seraphine?" he muttered, his thoughts tangled and confusing.

For the first time in a long while, Lucien Salvatore felt a flicker of something he couldn't quite name. And it scared him more than he cared to admit.