Chapter 2
I stood at the entrance of Villa 1 in Starhaven Bay, staring at the three-story modern villa with its garden and pool. It all felt a bit surreal.
The butler respectfully handed me a set of keys and a black card. "Mr. Cross, these are all the keys to the villa and the access card. Also, Ms. Bennett instructed that this card is for your living expenses, with no spending limit."
I held the thin card, and it felt heavier than a gold bar. She was really sparing no expense to make me her nominal husband. What was her angle?
I dismissed the butler and walked into the villa alone.
The place was decked out by a top designer. It was luxurious but not flashy. Everything I could need was here, and the fridge was packed with the freshest, most high-end ingredients, like wagyu beef, bluefin tuna, white truffles, and so on.
I swallowed hard.
Now that I'd unlocked my god-tier cooking skills, this was basically a free pass to try them out. The whole marriage thing didn't matter to me for now. Food came first.
I rolled up my sleeves and walked into the kitchen, which looked like it belonged in a five-star restaurant, and started prepping the ingredients.
I had excellent knife skills, mastered heat control, and seasoned dishes perfectly. Everything came effortlessly to me, like I'd done it thousands of times before.
An hour later, a pan-seared M9 wagyu with black truffle sauce, a baked lobster, and a plate of uni sashimi were laid out on the dining table. The aroma filled the entire dining room.
As I was about to dig in, the doorbell rang.
Frowning, I went to open the door, and there she was, Ivy.
She'd ditched the business suit for a beige trench coat, looking less intimidating and a bit more gentle. But her expression was still icy.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
She waved the documents in her hand. "Since you wouldn't sign, I had to deliver them."
As she spoke, she started to walk inside, but after a couple of steps, she stopped.
Her nose twitched slightly, and her eyes landed on the dishes laid out on the dining table.
"You made this?" she asked, with a trace of surprise in her voice.
"Who else would it be? Is there someone else in this house?" I replied, sounding a little irritated.
She walked over to the table, her eyes lingering on the dishes, a complicated look flickering across her face.
"Want to sit down and have some?" I blurted out.
Honestly, I'd made way too much food for one person, and it'd be a shame to let it go to waste.
Ivy glanced at me, then actually pulled out a chair and sat down.
I handed her a fork and a knife.
Ivy picked up a small piece of beef and, with effortless grace, brought it to her lips. In the next moment, her hand paused midair.
For the first time ever, a surge of shock and awe broke through her usually calm eyes.
She chewed slowly, taking her time as if she were experiencing a taste she'd never known before.
Once she finished the beef, Ivy quietly reached for the lobster.
Neither of us said a word during the meal.
She didn't eat much, but she sampled a bit of everything.
When she set down her fork, she gave me a look that was hard to read. "Who taught you to cook?"
"I'm born with it. No teacher needed." I totally made it up.
She didn't press the issue and pushed the marriage contract back toward me. "We could negotiate further terms."
"I told you, I'm not—" I protested.
"Add one more condition," she interrupted. "After we're married, you'll handle all the cooking."
I froze.
[Host, you are facing a food arms race. Please make a choice.
[Option 1: Agree to the contract and become Ms. Bennett's exclusive chef. Reward: 20 Grind Points.
[Option 2: Stay true to yourself and keep your cooking skills for yourself. Reward: God-tier driving skills.]
I looked at Ivy's icy face. She was actually risking her marriage for a bite to eat. The lengths foodies would go to were honestly scary.
I grabbed the pen, didn't bother to read the contract, and scrawled my name at the end. Then I pushed the contract back to her.
A glimmer of satisfaction flashed across Ivy's face, but it disappeared as quickly.
She picked up the contract and stood up.
"Wait," I called out.
"Anything else?" Ivy asked.
"Dinner's not free," I said, pointing at the empty plates. "Ingredients, labor, and kitchen rental are added up to 60 thousand. You want to pay by transfer or cash?"
Ivy stared at me, speechless. She'd probably never dropped this much cash on a meal before.
Her lips twitched. Without a word, she pulled out a check, scribbled her name, and slapped it on the table. "150 thousand. Is that enough?"
"More than enough. Welcome anytime," I grinned as I pocketed the check.
She gave me a long, meaningful look, then turned and walked out.
[Host, you successfully insisted on paid labor and refused a meaningless effort. Reward: God-tier driving skills unlocked.]
Another flood of information rushed into my mind.
From F1 racing to rally off-roading, emergency escapes to epic drifting, every driving trick was downloaded straight into my brain.
I twirled the check and car keys in my hand, grinning like a fool.
I got cash, a place, and killer skills. My current life was way better than being the doormat heir at Cross Residence.
As for my wife in name, with all this money and top-notch food, I guessed I could deal with having her around.