Chapter 1

The power went out on Christmas Eve. I took my nephew over to the neighbor's to borrow some water.

My neighbor, a cold, elite CEO, mistakenly thought I was so poor I could barely feed myself.

Her eyes glistened with tears. "Forget all this. I have some leftover lobster."

When the neighborhood group mocked me for being dirt-poor, she transferred me 30 thousand and posted openly in the chat: [I'm more than happy to support him.]

On my first day at work, when she saw me in the vice president's seat, she was so shocked that she spilled her coffee all over the floor.

*****

"Uncle Nicholas, I'm hungry." Leo Sinclair tugged at my sleeve, his eyes brimming with tears.

I crouched down and ruffled his hair. "Just hang in there a little longer. The property management said the power probably won't come back until tomorrow morning at the earliest."

Getting hit with a city-wide blackout on Christmas Eve was rotten luck.

I rummaged through my suitcase and grabbed two packs of cookies. I twisted open the cap of a bottle of water. It was empty.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. I looked over at the stash of fancy ingredients I'd hauled back from abroad in the kitchen, including black truffles, Iberian ham, and Australian wagyu beef.

Every single one cost an arm and a leg. But without power or water, all that fancy food was just a pile of useless junk.

Leo's cries grew louder.

I sighed, scooped him up, and headed for the door, "Come on, let's go borrow some water."

This was a fancy building in Riverlod, where everyone was either filthy rich or had some serious clout.

I'd only moved in three days ago, and I hadn't run into any of my neighbors yet.

The hallway was pitch black, except for a sliver of light peeking out from under the door at the very end.

I walked over and rang the doorbell.

After about half a minute, the door cracked open a little.

An icy beauty appeared behind the door, her presence almost regal.

She looked to be in her late twenties, with thick hair casually draped over her shoulders. Her delicate features were breathtaking, even without a hint of makeup.

She was dressed in a beige loungewear set, eyeing me warily. "What is it?" she asked, her tone flat and distant.

I cleared my throat. "So, the power's out, and I was hoping to borrow some water."

Her gaze swept over me before landing on Leo.

The little guy was looking at her with those big, pitiful eyes, tears still clinging to his cheeks.

She frowned, her eyes flicking back to me.

I'd just spent over ten hours on a plane with Leo in my arms, and my expensive cashmere coat was all wrinkled from him clinging to me.

Her expression changed. Her expression shifted from guarded to sympathetic. "Wait here," she said.

She turned and went back inside, coming out a moment later with a bottle of water and a box of imported cookies.

"Let him have this. Don't give him cookies," she said.

She pressed the things into my hands. Her voice was still cold, but her eyes were a little red around the edges.

I was stunned. Did she really think I was so poor I couldn't feed myself and Leo?

Leo had already grabbed a cookie and stuffed it into his mouth, mumbling, "Thank you, pretty lady."

She watched Leo wolf down the cookie, a flicker of compassion in her eyes.

"You guys," she paused, then said, "Come on in. I've got a kitchen."

I arched an eyebrow. "Is that really okay?"

"Cut the crap," she said, stepping aside. "It's Christmas Eve. Don't let him go hungry."

I carried Leo inside.

The place was decked out in minimalist style, easily over 3,000 square feet.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, most of Riverlod was swallowed by darkness thanks to the blackout.

Her place was the only one with lights on.

"How come your place still has power?" I asked.

"Backup generator," she replied coolly, pointing toward the kitchen. "Over there. Don't make a mess."

I set Leo down on the couch and headed into the kitchen.

I opened the fridge and saw it was neatly packed with all kinds of ready-to-eat food.

I glanced back at her. She was sitting at the far end of the couch, keeping a good three feet between us, her eyes glued to her phone. She looked so alone.

I pulled out the ingredients I'd brought from my duffel bag, including black truffles, Iberian ham, and a few fresh asparagus spears.

"You brought all this?" She looked up, her expression complicated. "Can't afford anything else?"

I smiled, "Just want him to have something nutritious."

She didn't say anything, but her eyes were misting up again. She was probably picturing us as some tragic father-son duo. I didn't bother explaining and just pulled out my chef's knife.

My name was etched into the blade, catching the light with a cold gleam.

"That knife?" She stared at it for a moment. "Did you pick that up at a flea market?"

I almost cracked up. This knife was a custom job. Only five existed in the whole world, and they cost more than most houses.

"It helps a lot," I replied. I started slicing up the ham. The blade flashed, and each piece came out paper-thin, stacked neatly on the plate.

She got up and came over to the kitchen doorway, her eyes widening in genuine surprise as she watched my technique.

"You actually know how to cook?" she asked.

"Just a bit," I replied.

I sliced the truffles into fine shreds and let them sizzle in the pan, releasing their fragrance.

In no time, the whole apartment was filled with a rich, heavenly aroma.

She sniffed, swallowing hard as the aroma hit her.

Leo was already at the kitchen doorway, looking up at me with wide, hungry eyes. "Uncle Nicholas, it smells amazing."

She paused, a little confused. "Uncle Nicholas?"

"Yep," Leo chirped in his soft, childish voice. "Uncle Nicholas used to work abroad, but now he's home all the time and plays with me every day."

I nearly dropped the spatula.

Her face got even more complicated. She looked at me, hesitated, then finally blurted out, "Being out of work must be rough."

I was speechless, wondering if I should explain. I decided against it in the end, since it was a long story

Ten minutes later, a plate of truffle and ham pasta was served up.

I whipped up some garlic shrimp using the frozen shrimp from her fridge.

"Just something to tide us over," I said, setting the pasta down on the table.

She sat down and grabbed her fork.

She took a bite and was completely stunned.

The truffle aroma, the salty kick from the ham, and my special sauce blended together perfectly.

She closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh.

"Is it good?" Leo asked, peeking over the edge of the table.

She opened her eyes, staring at the pasta in her plate, her eyes misting up again. "Yeah."

She lowered her head and started eating heartily. She ate fast, almost like she was afraid it might disappear if she didn't.

I watched her, feeling something I couldn't quite put into words.

This woman probably hadn't enjoyed a real meal in a long time.

It wasn't about having good food. She just never had anyone to share it with.

Leo was digging into the shrimp when he suddenly pointed at a plate on the table. "Uncle Nicholas, look. That mushroom's huge."

It was a truffle.

She looked up, glanced at the plate, then at me.

"Is that a truffle?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Do you even realize how much this stuff costs per pound?" she bit her lip, looking at me like I was crazy. "How can you just throw it in like that?"

"It's not that expensive," I replied, keeping it casual. "A friend gave it to me. If I don't use it, it'll just go to waste."

She stayed quiet, head down, and kept eating. But her tears fell right into her plate.