Chapter 2
From Victoria and Charles's side of the kitchen, the sound of clattering pots and pans was already filling the air.
Victoria, wearing a cartoon apron the production team had provided, was flustered as she handled the ingredients. Her face was dusted with cream and flour.
Charles hovered nearby, awkwardly handing her utensils. Every so often, he played out those classic sweet moments, saying things like, "You've got something on your face. Let me get that for you."
The live chat was losing it, shipping them like crazy.
[Is this the dream life or what?]
[It's a total mess, but the love is real!]
Meanwhile, at the other end of the open kitchen, I took my sweet time grabbing a carton of eggs and some leftover chopped veggies from the fridge.
[Is Mrs. Quinn making a frittata? That's her idea of a romantic dinner?]
[Don't roast her. Maybe that's all she knows how to make.]
[LOL, that's the tea.]
I tuned them out.
I was playing along for the cameras. After this dinner, Alexander and I would hit the courthouse tomorrow, get the paper signed, and split up for good.
As I cracked an egg into a bowl, a shadow fell over me.
Alexander was standing right behind me.
He had shrugged off his suit jacket and was now in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those strong, defined forearms.
Without saying a word, he took the whisk from me and started whisking the eggs with practiced ease, as if he had done it a thousand times.
[Wait, is Mr. Quinn cooking?]
[No way. Where's the cold, untouchable CEO we were promised?]
[This is scripted. He's trying to fix his image!]
Victoria noticed the commotion and walked over with a plate of half-prepped escargot, wearing the right touch of surprise on her face.
"Mr. Quinn, you know how to cook? Who would have thought?" she said.
Then she turned to me, her voice carrying a hint of smugness. "Anna, you're really lucky. Charles wouldn't know a frying pan if it hit him. I have to handle everything myself."
Before I could say anything, Alexander's cold voice cut in.
"She doesn't need to be lucky," he said, without looking up as he dropped the minced garlic into the pan. "Having me is enough for her."
The garlic sizzled, its aroma bursting forth and filling the kitchen.
Victoria's smile stiffened on her face.
The live chat exploded again.
[Wait, what? Did I hear that?]
[Is this free to watch? Alexander is such a badass.]
[The fake innocent got owned. I'm dying!]
Even I was a bit thrown for a second.
What had gotten into Alexander today?
Three years of marriage, and he had barely spoken to me.
Soon, the mouthwatering aroma of steak filled the whole kitchen.
Alexander moved with effortless grace, marinating, searing, and plating. Every step was smooth and precise, like he was a Michelin-starred chef in his own kitchen.
Meanwhile, Victoria's side was a disaster zone.
The oven started reeking of burnt food. She frantically pulled out her so-called escargot, which was now a lump of charcoal.
Charles looked uncomfortable, but he forced a smile and tried to reassure her. "Hey, don't worry, babe. It's the thought that matters."
At dinner time, two couples sat at opposite ends of the long table.
Victoria and Charles had a plate of blackened snails and a sad-looking salad sitting in front of them.
Meanwhile, Alexander and I had two perfectly cooked, juicy tomahawk steaks in front of us, each paired with a glass of fancy red wine.
Seeing them side by side was rough.
Victoria's eyes were getting red as she looked pitifully at Charles.
Charles picked up his fork as if he were heading to the gallows, stabbed a piece of burnt lump, shoved it in his mouth, and managed a thumbs-up.
"Delicious! Babe, this is the best thing I've ever tasted," he said.
[Impressive!]
[This is so awkward that I want to crawl under the table.]
[Best Actor and Best Actress. Seriously, they're made for each other.]
Meanwhile, Alexander and I sat there in awkward silence.
But I had to admit that the steak was amazing.
I was enjoying my steak when the doorbell rang.
Mark, wearing a mysterious grin, announced, "To spice up our dinner, the show has brought in a surprise guest."
The camera swung over to the door.
The door opened, and in walked a woman in a Chanel suit, looking every bit like wealth and class.
The live chat instantly recognized her.
[Holy crap! Isn't that Alexander's mom, the legendary "Queen of Shade," Patricia?]
[Oh no. The real boss is here to drag the mistress... Wait, no, the ex-daughter-in-law.]
[This is gonna be wild. Anna is gonna get roasted alive.]
Patricia, Alexander's mom, was famous in high society for being picky and sharp-tongued.
I set down my fork and knife, steeling myself for the drama that was about to hit.
I wasn't scared at all. After the divorce, none of this would matter anyway.
Patricia marched through the living room, her heels clicking, gaze fixed straight ahead. She ignored everyone in her path.
She didn't glance at Victoria, Charles, or even Alexander.
She came to a halt in front of me.
Then, live on camera for everyone to see, she grabbed my hand, her tone a mix of concern and outrage.
"Anna, are you being mistreated? Is that little punk giving you a hard time? Tell me. I'll handle him for you," she said.