CHAPTER 152: CHAPTER 152

Maxwell’s POV

"You changed the recipe without consulting me first?" I voiced out.

"I didn’t think it would... I never meant to..."

"Mr. Wellington eats the same breakfast every morning for a reason," Mrs. Tote interrupted Rita. "His digestive system is sensitive to certain ingredients. There are specific protocols..."

"Rita likes tampering with your food, Sir!"

The voice came from another young assistant cook - Agnes, according to her name tag. She stepped forward, her face looking so innocent and righteous.

"Agnes!" The other staff members hissed her name in warning.

But Agnes wasn’t stopping. She pointed at Rita who was still kneeling on the floor.

"She’s always trying new things with your meals because she likes you and wants you to fall in love with her through her cooking! She says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so she’s been experimenting for weeks!"

"Agnes, shut up!" one of the other cooks whispered urgently.

Rita’s face had gone from pale to bright red. "That’s not... I wasn’t..."

"And that’s not even the worst part!" Agnes continued. "Rita always lingers in your bedroom after she’s supposed to finish cleaning. She reorganizes things, touches your personal items, sprays her perfume on your pillows..."

"AGNES!" Rita screamed out. "THAT’S NOT TRUE!"

But Agnes continued on her path of destruction. "She’s trying to seduce you, Mr. Wellington! She talks about it all the time in the staff quarters! How she’s going to make you notice her, how she’s going to..."

I held up one hand, and Agnes immediately fell silent.

The kitchen was absolutely quiet except for Rita’s soft crying.

"Is this true?" I asked, my tone neutral, my expression blank.

Rita was sobbing into her hands now, unable to form words.

Mrs.Tote looked mortified. "Mr. Wellington, I assure you I had no knowledge of any inappropriate behavior. If I had known..."

"Rita," I said, and she looked up at me with teary cheeks. "You tampered with my food without authorization. You violated multiple kitchen protocols. You made me severely ill."

"I’m so sorry," she sobbed. "Please don’t fire me. Please. The money from this job pays for my tuition. I’m putting myself through culinary school. If you fire me, I won’t be able to afford..."

"Stand up," I said.

She stumbled to her feet, still crying, her whole body shaking.

I turned my gaze to Agnes, who was looking at Rita with obvious contempt.

"Agnes," I said calmly. "You’re fired. Effective immediately."

The others opened their mouths in shock.

"But I... I was trying to help!" Agnes sputtered. "I was telling you the truth! Rita is the one who should be..."

"I don’t want to hear it." I said coolly. And I honestly didn’t want to hear it. Someone has to take the fall for what happened to me today, and Agnes just happens to be the perfect Candidate.

"That’s not fair!" Agnes’s face had turned red. "She poisoned you! She..."

"Mrs. Tote," I interrupted, turning to my head chef. "Please escort Agnes to collect her belongings. Security will ensure she leaves the premises immediately."

Mrs. Tote nodded, "Of course, sir."

Agnes was still protesting as Mrs. Tote guided her toward the door. The other kitchen staff stood still, probably wondering if anyone else was about to get fired.

I turned back to Rita, who was staring at me with an expression of complete disbelief.

"You’re not fired," I said. "But you are on probation. No more unauthorized recipe changes. No more lingering in any part of this house beyond your assigned duties. And for God’s sake, keep your romantic aspirations to yourself. Are we clear?"

Rita nodded frantically, probably unable to believe she still had a job. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I promise I’ll never..."

"Dismissed. All of you."

They scattered like startled birds, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

I poured myself a glass of water and leaned against the counter, finally allowing myself to relax.

What a day.

Poisoned by a lovesick chef. Given fake medicine by a vindictive assistant. Forced to accept help from the vindictive assistant’s best friend. Nearly shit myself in different locations across the city.

And somehow, despite all of it, I was smiling.

I needed to plan something juicy for my dearest Olivia.

*******

Julian’s POV

The parking garage was half-dark, and half-lonely. I leaned against a pillar, my arms folded, as I waited.

Ken Morrey always stayed late. The hardworking, golden-boy type. The kind of man who looked like he’d blush if you flirted too directly - but who, apparently, hid something uglier underneath.

I’d seen him from the balcony an hour ago, leaving the elevators, briefcase in hand, still wearing that cute little smile that fooled everyone. I’d wanted to believe it fooled me too.

But not today. Today, he’d showed his true colors.

His car beeped open next to me, and I watched him approach, scrolling through his phone as he got in.

I pushed off the pillar, came out of the shadows, and opened the passenger door before he could even start the ignition.

"Jesus Christ!" Ken jumped, his phone slipping from his hands. "Julian? What the... what are you doing here?"

I entered the car immediately, buckling my seat belt. "Relax, darling. If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have brought better heels."

He frowned, his face filled with confusion. "You followed me?"

"Waited for you," I corrected, crossing one leg over the other. "I wanted to talk."

"About what?"

"About Olivia."

That got his attention. His fingers stilled on the steering wheel, even as he tried to play it cool. "What about him... her?"

"What was that rubbish stunt you pulled today? The blackmail?" I asked, without mincing words.

Ken’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it. "It’s not blackmail Julian. She’s been deceiving everyone. It’s fraud. I could lose my job if this comes out. She’s implicating the both us. Imagine what Maxwell will do if he knows we’re aiding a fraudster?"

"Save me the legal sermon, counselor," I said, leaning closer. "You’re not trying to protect the firm. You’re trying to get laid."

He averted his gaze, but didn’t say anything. What could the jerk say?

I sighed. "Listen, Ken. I’m not here to fight. I’m here to warn you. Back off. Whatever fantasy you’ve built in that head of yours, drop it. Olivia’s been through hell. She doesn’t need you adding to it."

He turned to face me then, his eyes cold. "You don’t understand. I like her."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I like her," he repeated, voice lower, almost defensive. "When I thought she was a man, I liked her. And now that I know she’s a woman, I still like her. It’s not my fault okay."

Wait a minute... this dude is Bisexual? I thought he was as straight as a knife! Damn, this news just made my day.