Chapter 3
The next day, I tracked down Richard's address and made my way to Landon Manor, perched halfway up the mountainside.
The gates were shut tight, and two bodyguards in black stood guard out front.
"Stop right there. What do you want?" one of them asked, stepping in front of me.
"I'm here to apply for Mr. Landon's private chef position," I replied calmly.
The bodyguard gave me a once-over and let out a mocking laugh. "You? They just kicked out three Michelin-starred chefs yesterday. And now some girl like you wants to join the fun? Don't waste our time."
I refused to leave, standing at the gate and shouting loudly, "Mr. Landon, please give me a chance. I promise you'll love my cooking."
The bodyguard, getting impatient, came over and tried to push me away.
I grabbed onto the iron gate and wouldn't let go.
Just then, a black Maybach rolled up and stopped at the gate.
The window rolled down, revealing Richard Landon's icy, stern face.
He shot me a frosty, indifferent look.
"What's going on?" Richard asked.
The bodyguard immediately bowed respectfully and reported, "Mr. Landon, this woman says she wants to be your chef, and no matter what we do, she won't leave."
Richard's gaze landed on me, a mocking smirk tugging at his lips.
"Ms. Shaw, what's this? One forced kiss wasn't enough for you, so now you're showing up at my place?" he said.
I looked him straight in the eye.
"Mr. Landon, I'm really here for the chef job. Just try one bite of my cooking; if you don't like it, I'll leave for good," I said.
Richard studied me for a moment.
"Let her in," he said.
I walked into Landon Manor behind the car, and the butler, Dylan Simons, led me straight to the kitchen.
The kitchen was insanely spacious, with every ingredient one could possibly think of.
"Mr. Landon hasn't had much of an appetite; he's barely touched any food for two days. You'd better have some real skills, because if he loses his temper, nobody's going to stick up for you," Dylan warned me coolly.
I didn't say a word. I washed my hands and started picking out ingredients.
Richard hadn't had much of an appetite lately, so I couldn't make anything too rich or oily.
I decided to cook a clear-broth soup I had perfected in my previous life, paired with a bowl of menudo to stimulate his appetite.
An hour later, I walked in with the tray and headed for the dining room.
Richard was sitting at the head of the table, going through some papers.
He glanced up at what I brought, his brows slightly furrowing.
"This is what you made? Looks like something you'd get from a street stall," Richard scoffed.
"Just try it, Mr. Landon," I said, setting the cutlery in front of him.
Richard tasted the menudo.
His movements stilled for a moment.
Then he picked up a piece of meatball.
Five minutes later, he set his fork down.
The plate was empty.
Dylan stood there, completely stunned.
"Mr. Landon, you... You ate it all?" Dylan stammered.
Richard dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, then shot me a look.
"It's barely passable," he said.
I let out a sigh of relief.
"So, does this mean I got the job, Mr. Landon?" I asked.
Richard leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "You're hired. But as my private chef, you'll need to be on call around the clock. You'll be staying here."
"No problem," I replied.
"And another thing," he paused, his gaze sharpening, "I don't tolerate anyone messing around under my roof. You'd better behave yourself."
"Don't worry, Mr. Landon. I'm just here to cook," I replied.
The system reported, "Mission 2 completed. Reward has been issued."
I was thrilled.
With 30 grand and a shop in hand, I could finally kick off my plan.
It was my third day living at Landon Manor.
Dylan told me there were guests coming over today.
I was in the kitchen, getting lunch ready, when I heard a familiar voice coming from the living room.
"Uncle Richard, I had someone bring over precious supplements. It's great for your health."
It was Charles.
My hand froze on the knife.
"Leave it there," Richard replied coolly.
"Uncle Richard, there's one more thing. Emily and I have set the wedding date for next month. I really hope you can make it," Charles said, his voice full of flattery.
"Alright," Richard responded.
I walked out with a plate of sliced fruit.
Charles and Emily were sitting on the couch.
Charles jumped to his feet when he saw me, looking completely stunned.
"Natalie! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed.
Emily's eyes went wide, too, staring at me in disbelief.
I set the fruit down on the coffee table, keeping my face blank.
"I'm Mr. Landon's private chef now," I said.
Charles's face went pale with rage as he jabbed a finger at me, shouting, "Natalie, do you have any shame at all? You actually took a job here to try and get close to my uncle."
He spun toward Richard. "Uncle Richard, this woman is nothing but trouble; she's only here to worm her way into your life. Don't fall for her act."
Richard picked up his cup and took a delicate sip.
"Do I need your permission to hire someone?" he asked.
Charles choked on his words, his face flushing red.
"Uncle Richard, that's not what I meant. It's just that she used to..." Charles said.
"What about before?" Richard cut him off, his gaze cold as ice. "She's mine now, so you'd better show some respect."
Charles didn't dare talk back to Richard, so he shot me a venomous glare.
Emily tugged on Charles's sleeve.
"Charles, let it go. Natalie doesn't even have a place to stay right now; getting a job here isn't so bad for her. We should be glad she found something," she said, her voice soft and gentle.
Emily stood up and walked over to me, her tone dripping with condescension. "Natalie, if you're short on cash, you can always come to me. We used to be best friends, after all. There's no need to lower yourself to doing servant work like this."
I stared at her with that classic bitch attitude, then grabbed a glass of juice and tossed it straight in her face.
"Ah!" Emily screamed, covering her face and stumbling back.
"Natalie, what the hell are you doing?" Charles shouted, charging over and raising his hand like he was about to hit me.
I didn't flinch and stared him down with a cold glare.
"Go ahead, hit me if you dare. This is Landon Manor; you don't get to throw your weight around here," I said.
Charles's hand froze in mid-air, and he shot a wary glance at Richard.
Richard set his cup down, his voice carrying unmistakable authority. "Are you done making a scene? If so, get out," he said.
Charles gritted his teeth and pulled Emily to her feet, her face still dripping with juice.
"Uncle Richard, sorry for the disturbance. We'll leave now," Charles said.
At the door, Charles turned and glared daggers at me. "Natalie, just you wait."