CHAPTER 254: NO MEAL...WAS WORTH RISKING HIS LIFE OR TASTEBUDS FOR.

The day passed in the blink of an eye. Anna spent most of it at home, wandering from room to room, lost in her thoughts. But as the time of Daniel’s return drew nearer, something warm and overwhelming began to creep into her chest.

She had never been this eager—this delighted—to see her husband.

Ever.

"It’s because I haven’t seen him the whole day... and he had a fever yesterday," she muttered to herself, attempting to rationalize the tight flutter in her heart. "It’s normal. Perfectly normal."

But she knew it wasn’t.

Not after everything she’d learned.

Not after hearing about his parents and realizing how much loneliness he had hidden behind that cold, intimidating exterior. Her heart felt oddly tender, strangely protective—like she suddenly understood pieces of Daniel she hadn’t known existed.

She remembered how genuine, almost boyish, his voice had sounded when he spoke about his mother the other night. How he had smiled—really smiled—as he recalled her. And Anna... she had found herself listening, captivated, wanting him to go on.

Before she even realized it, she stood up abruptly.

"I should prepare something healthy for him," she declared with newfound determination.

She practically sprinted out of the room.

Moments later, she entered the kitchen with the energy of someone about to undertake a heroic quest.

"Madam, do you need something?" Mariam asked gently, noticing her sudden entrance.

Anna had stepped into the kitchen before—once to fix herself a meal, and another time to bake a cake that had ended in... mild disaster. A delicious-looking, utterly inedible disaster.

She could cook—she had done it plenty in her previous life—but somehow, this life’s kitchen and measurements still eluded her. And her cooking confidence... was shaky at best.

Still, her resolve didn’t waver.

"Mariam," Anna announced boldly, "I will be taking over the kitchen today."

Every servant in the kitchen froze.

They exchanged horrified glances, as if they’d just heard a thunderstorm warning. One of them subtly stepped back. Another mouthed, Not again.

But when they looked back at Anna, she walked in deeper, full of determination.

Mariam pressed her lips together in a thin line—but did not stop her.

She never did. She had never stopped Anna from cooking, nor complained about the flour on the counters, the smoke, the overturned bowls, or the questionable taste of the final dish.

Because Anna might be clumsy and chaotic in the kitchen...

but she had a heart for learning.

And no matter how awful her food turned out, she always ate it herself with full enthusiasm, smiling like she’d made a masterpiece.

Mariam sighed softly, warmth flickering in her eyes.

"Very well, Madam," she said at last. "Please tell me what you wish to prepare."

Anna stepped forward, rolling up the sleeves of her blouse like a warrior preparing for battle. She explained a few ingredients and steps to Mariam—who nodded patiently, absorbing every word. The rest of the kitchen staff, however, stood frozen in silent horror.

They had witnessed this scenario before.

And they all knew exactly where this would lead.

Smoke.

Chaos.

A mess that could bring even the bravest chef to tears.

But none of them dared interrupt their Madam, who walked in with so much hope shining in her eyes.

Meanwhile—

Outside, Daniel’s car pulled into the mansion driveway.

It hadn’t even fully stopped when he pushed the door open and stepped out, his movements quick, almost eager. The fatigue he carried all day evaporated instantly, replaced with a restless anticipation.

He wanted to see Anna.

Hold her.

Bury his face in her neck and smell the faint sweetness he had grown addicted to.

After talking to her earlier, he had been unusually restless. The entire day felt longer than usual, every meeting a distraction he tolerated only because he had no choice. But the moment the clock struck his off-time, he left everything behind.

He wasn’t thinking about Shawn monitoring him.

He wasn’t thinking about Fiona and her delusional insistence on meeting "DarkKnight."

He wasn’t even thinking about the schemes piling up around him.

All of that was irrelevant.

Because the moment he stepped out of the office, only one thing filled his mind—

Anna.

His wife.

His peace.

And today, for some reason he couldn’t place, the ache to hold her was stronger than usual.

He adjusted his coat and walked toward the entrance, unaware of the whirlwind waiting for him inside the kitchen... and completely unprepared for the sight he was about to walk into.

Daniel walked through the mansion with single-minded focus, not sparing a glance at anything or anyone. He headed straight to his room, already imagining Anna waiting for him on the couch or the bed.

But to his surprise...

There was no sign of her.

He paused, scanning the space, checking the corners, even glancing near the balcony curtains. Nothing.

"Where did she go?" he murmured, frowning.

His eyes landed on her phone lying on the side table.

A slow smile tugged at his lips.

She’s in the house.

Relief warmed his chest, loosening something he hadn’t realized was tight all day. Without wasting another second, he headed to the bathroom to freshen up, washing off the exhaustion of hours stuck in meetings.

Towel in hand, he stepped out again. When she wasn’t in the room, he assumed she must’ve gone to the rooftop. Anna loved her quiet moments there, especially in the evenings.

He made his way toward the stairs but stopped.

A faint commotion drifted from downstairs. Voices. Muffled panic. Whispering.

Daniel’s brows furrowed.

He leaned slightly over the hallway railing and spotted several servants gathered near the kitchen entrance, whispering frantically, their faces a strange mixture of fear and resignation.

"What’s happening there?" he muttered, eyes narrowing.

Then it hit him.

The realization struck with the clarity of lightning.

There was only one reason the servants would gather like frightened mice near the kitchen.

And only one person capable of turning that room into a potential disaster zone.

Anna.

Before he knew it, his feet were already moving—no, dragging him toward the kitchen, guided by a mix of dread, amusement, and something warm and fond curling in his chest.

"What’s going on here?" Daniel’s voice cut through the hallway like a blade, instantly snapping all the servants to attention.

They gasped and bowed their heads, guilt written across their faces. Their unease only made Daniel more concerned.

Then he looked past them— into the kitchen and his jaw nearly hit the floor.

Flames shot up from the pan, licking the top of the stove as if trying to set the ceiling on fire. The steak inside was no longer steak but a charcoal sacrifice.

And in the middle of this chaos— Anna stood proudly, smiling at the fiery disaster like she’d just painted a masterpiece.

Mariam coughed violently beside her, trying not to inhale the smoke.

"Woah... Mariam, I should definitely join a cooking show," Anna declared, hands planted on her hips. "I’m sure I have a natural talent for this."

Talent for what, Daniel thought blankly— Arson?

The wine bottle Anna had poured half into the pan sat beside her, looking far too innocent for the chaos it caused.

COUGH. COUGH.

"Y-yes, Madam..." Mariam managed, eyes watering.

Daniel: "..."

Silence. Utter, stunned silence.

Goodness... why does she have to step in the kitchen at all? She’s going to burn the entire mansion down at this rate.

He remembered the last time she cooked for him. He had taken one bite—just one—and his tongue had caught fire. He didn’t taste properly for days. Even plain water tasted spicy.

But she had ate it all anyway as if the spicyness didn’t bother her.

Now, seeing her grinning at a literal flaming pan, Daniel felt a mix of horror, fondness, and exasperation swirling inside him.

He couldn’t decide whether to scold her...or extinguish the flames first.

"Master, the Madam wanted to prepare a meal for you," one of the servants blurted out.

Daniel froze.

His eyes widened in pure, unfiltered terror.

"For... me?" he stuttered, almost backing away.

The servant nodded timidly.

Daniel internally screamed.

No. Absolutely not. There is no way I’m tasting that... that charcoal. She can have it—she can eat every last burnt atom of it if she wants.

His gaze darted to the pan again, where the steak had reached a state beyond cremation. It looked like something that should be placed in a museum under the label: Remains of Civilization, 3000 B.C.

Back when he first heard Anna had prepared a meal for him, he’d been eager—almost excited—to try it. He assumed she had cooked with love, and he was ready to indulge in every bite.

He had not expected his mouth to experience a volcanic eruption.

His tongue had gone numb for two whole days. He had tasted nothing—not food, not water, not even his own despair And now they wanted him to go through that again?

Daniel swallowed hard.

For the first time in his life, he genuinely considered sleeping on an empty stomach.

No meal...was worth risking his life or tastebuds for.