Chapter 2

When I got back to the Shaw residence, the front gate was locked tight.

I rang the doorbell for ages before the housekeeper, May Wilde, finally poked her head out.

"Ms. Shaw, Mr. Shaw said, from today on, all your cards are canceled and you can't come in. Unless you go and bow to Mr. Landon and admit you were wrong," May said.

As she spoke, she threw a suitcase out the door.

"Here are a few of your clothes. Mr. Shaw said you're on your own now," she added.

The door slammed shut with a bang.

I looked at the suitcase on the ground and forced a bitter smile.

This was what my parents were like.

All they cared about was profit—and Charles, the only one who could bring something to the Shaw family.

Whether I lived or died, they couldn't care less.

I dragged my suitcase and crashed at a budget hotel.

When I unlocked my phone, social media was blowing up with news about me ditching my wedding and kissing Richard in front of everyone.

The top trending hashtag: [Shaw Heiress Goes Crazy, Kisses Landon Family's Devil.]

The second trending hashtag: [Poor Charles Landon, Fiancée Cheats in Public]

It was obvious Charles had hired an army of online shills to hype up the scandal.

He was trying to force me to beg him to take me back.

I opened up WhatsApp and saw Charles had sent me over a dozen messages.

Charles: [Natalie, are you happy now? The whole city is laughing at us.

[You really think Uncle Richard would ever want you? He just thinks you're something new, that's all.

[So, your cards are frozen, and you've got nowhere to go, right? Post a statement saying you were drunk that night, and I'll let it slide.]

I blocked him instantly.

Then Emily messaged me.

Emily: [Natalie, where are you? I'm really worried about you. Charles is super mad. Just come back and say sorry to him.]

I scoffed and replied: [Emily, are you itching to replace me and marry Charles? Too bad. The trash I threw away, you treat like treasure.]

After sending that, I blocked her, too.

Early the next morning, I went to the bank to check my accounts.

Sure enough, they were all frozen.

I only had less than a thousand bucks in cash left.

I had to find a job, and fast.

I majored in hospitality management in college, and in my previous life, I gave up a chance to study abroad for Charles, only to end up working for his food business.

Some of his company's signature dishes were actually created by me, pulling all-nighters in the kitchen.

I took my resume and applied at a few well-known restaurants.

Everywhere I went, the answer was always the same.

"Sorry, Ms. Shaw, we're not hiring."

"Ms. Shaw, your resume is impressive, but we can't risk it."

The manager at the last place couldn't stand it anymore and quietly pulled me aside.

"Ms. Shaw, Mr. Landon has put the word out. If anyone in Betrico's restaurant scene hires you, they're basically going up against the Landon family. Honestly, you should look for work somewhere else," he said.

I walked out of the restaurant, my hands balled into fists.

Charles, you were savage.

If you won't let me live, then I would carve out my own path.

I headed to a rundown part of town and rented a cramped studio apartment for two hundred bucks a month.

With what little cash I had left, I picked up some groceries and cheap kitchen supplies.

All those recipes I created in my previous life were still etched in my mind.

What Charles's company used now were the half-baked versions I came up with in the early days.

I was going to make top-tier gourmet dishes and set up a stall at the night market.

On my first day selling, I made my signature cupcake.

The sauce was my own secret recipe.

The aroma drew in a crowd in no time.

"Hey, I'll take one."

"This is unreal. Honestly, it's better than anything I've had at a Michelin restaurant!"

By the end of the night, I pocketed three hundred bucks.

My back was aching, but seeing that cash in my hand made it all feel worth it.

After a week of running my stall, business was booming. People were even driving from miles away to try my famous cupcake.

Just as I was starting to save up for a small shop, trouble came knocking.

A bunch of punks with bleached hair kicked over my stall.

"Who said you could set up here? Did you pay the protection fee?" one of them shouted.

The bald guy in charge stomped on my ingredients and spat right on my food, swaggering like he owned the place.

I shot them a cold look.

"This is public space. Why should I pay you anything?" I snapped.

The bald guy burst out laughing.

"Why? Because my fists do the talking," he sneered.

He raised his hand, ready to smash my food cart.

Without hesitation, I grabbed the cleaver from the counter and chopped it onto the cart.

Bang! The cleaver buried itself deep in the stainless steel countertop.

I stared the bald guy down, my eyes cold as ice.

"Go ahead, try me. I'm already screwed; if you want to mess with me, we'll both go down together," I said.

The bald guy was stunned by my vibe and actually stepped back.

Just then, a familiar voice rang out from the edge of the crowd. "Well, well, if it isn't the Ms. Shaw? What, slumming it, selling cupcakes now?"

Emily walked over, arm in arm with Charles, her high heels clicking against the pavement.

Charles was decked out in designer clothes, his face twisted in disgust as he surveyed the scene, finally settling his gaze on me.

"Natalie, you'd rather embarrass yourself here than apologize to me?" he asked.

I pulled the cleaver free and leveled it at the thugs.

I glared at Charles, saying, "You sent these guys, didn't you? That's seriously pathetic."

Charles's face stiffened for a second, then he let out a cold laugh. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I was showing Emily around the area—didn't expect to run into you here."

Emily pinched her nose, looking at me with fake sympathy.

"Natalie, look at you now. You smell like grease and smoke; where's that rich girl aura you used to have? Go apologize to Charles, he'll hook you up with a proper job," she said.

Seeing her phony face made me sick. "Emily, quit acting like you're some saint. I bet you can't wait for me to drop dead out here," I snapped.

Emily's eyes welled up with tears as she looked at Charles, all pitiful. "Charles, see? I was trying to be nice, and Natalie keeps lashing out at me."

Charles wrapped his arm around her, his face full of concern. "Emily, don't waste your breath on this lunatic. If she wants to degrade herself playing a street vendor, let her do it," he spat.

Charles turned to the bald thug. "This land is mine now. Starting tomorrow, no one sets up a stall here. If anyone tries, wreck it."

The bald guy nodded eagerly, bowing and grinning.

"Yes, Mr. Landon," he replied.

I clenched my jaw, watching Charles and Emily strut away, looking all smug.

The other vendors around me sighed and started packing up their stuff.

"We can't mess with Mr. Landon. Let's call it a day," one of them muttered.

I stared at the smashed ingredients, feeling a wave of fury welling up inside me.

Charles, you thought this was enough to make me bow down?

The system suddenly said in my mind, "System Alert: Host is in trouble.

"Mission Triggered: Become Richard's personal chef.

"Reward: $30,000 startup capital and a one-year lease on a prime commercial space."

I froze.

Richard's personal chef?

That devil himself?

Word was that he was so picky, he went through chefs faster than most people changed socks.

And I kissed him in front of everyone a few days ago. He probably wanted me six feet under right now.

But I didn't have a choice.

If I wanted to make a real comeback and stomp Charles into the dirt, clinging to Richard was my only way out.