Forced to Wed: A Billionaire's Demand

Chapter 53

Sarah

Jennifer stood in the kitchen, a look of confusion on her face as I waltzed in.

So I say excitedly, "I want to cook dinner tonight."

She raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my sudden desire. I have never tried to cook since I started living here.

"Really? What's the occasion?" she asks.

I shrug nonchalantly. "No occasion, I just felt like it."

Jennifer's face softens into a smile as she nods. "Well, I'll happily be your sous chef then."

My grin widens. "That would be awesome! So, I was wondering..." I hesitate, suddenly feeling shy.

"What is it, Miss?" Jennifer asks, curious about my sudden change in demeanor.

"What is...what is Vincent's favorite food?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jennifer gives me a gentle smile. "Vincent's favorite food is lasagna. He loves anything with pasta and cheese."

"Oh, okay. Can you teach me how to make it? I never tried to cook it before," I say.

"Of course. Is it because Sir is coming home tonight?" Jennifer raises an eyebrow.

I blush, feeling embarrassed that my intentions were so obvious. "Um, yeah. I just thought it would be nice to surprise him with his favorite meal," I mumble.

Jennifer chuckles and pats my shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, dear. It's a sweet gesture."

With Jennifer's guidance, we start gathering the ingredients for the lasagna. She shows me how to make the sauce from scratch, and I am amazed by her cooking skills. As we work together in the kitchen, I feel a sense of comfort and familiarity with her.

"Here, you can try tasting the sauce now," Jennifer says, handing me a spoonful.

I take a small taste and am blown away by the flavors. "Wow, this is amazing! You're such an incredible cook."

She smiles proudly at me before continuing to instruct me on how to assemble the lasagna layers.

As we wait for it to bake in the oven, Jennifer pulls out some old photo albums from one of the cabinets.

"Do you want to see some pictures of Vincent when he was younger?" she asks mischievously.

"Oh my god, yes!" I exclaim.

Jennifer laughs. "You can't tell him I showed you. He will explode!"

"I won't, I promise," I laugh with her.

My eyes widen with excitement as we sit down at the kitchen table, flipping through pages filled with memories of Vincent's childhood.

"He looks so different without his usual stoic expression," I comment, pointing at a picture of him smiling brightly.

"He was a cute kid, wasn't he?" Jennifer smirks.

"Adorable. Now he is a grouch," I complain.

Jennifer laughs again. "Oh, he will warm up to you. If he is so bad, why are you cooking for him?" she asks teasingly.

"Sophia told me to kill him with kindness." I giggle.

Jennifer chuckles. "Well, cooking his favorite meal is definitely a good start. And who knows, maybe seeing you put in this effort will soften him up a bit."

I scoff. "I doubt it. But just because he is mean to me doesn't mean I have to be mean to him."

As we continue flipping through the photo albums and sharing stories, I can't help but feel grateful for Jennifer's presence. She's not just Vincent's housekeeper – she's become a friend and confidante to me.