Chapter 89

“I haven’t eaten such delicious food since a mountaineering accident a year ago, when I enjoyed amazing Fisoland cuisine in a villager’s home. Miss Wilson, how long have you been cooking? Which chef did you study under?” Aiden asked.

The change in his attitude shocked everyone who had doubted Emma. They wondered, ‘Is her food that delicious? How did such a demanding guest become so different?’ Humiliation washed over them.

Emma replied lightly, “I didn’t learn from anyone. I simply enjoy studying cooking independently.”

Disbelief flickered across Aiden’s face. “But how did you know my tastes so well?”

Emma smiled, pursing her lips. “It wasn’t difficult. The leaf-shaped patch on your jacket sleeve suggests you appreciate seasonal ingredients. The cuisine most focused on seasonal ingredients and original flavors is Fisoland cuisine.”

Aiden admitted, “I love Fisoland food, but after eating yours, nothing else compares…”

The “yours” referred to the food he had just savored. He lowered his gaze. After a pause, he said, “But your rose petals are too fresh. It takes over six hours from picking to serving. Airlift and customs processing don't allow for that, so they can’t be from Fisoland.”

He frowned. “No matter how delicious, incorrect ingredients invalidate everything. Miss Wilson, how do you explain this?”

The previously silent onlookers erupted in chatter.

One said, “I told you we should have borrowed frozen Fisoland roses from another restaurant! Emma insisted on fresh ones.”

Another added, “She’s deliberately making us work harder, isn’t she?”

These people fixated on Emma's supposed failure, forgetting the exquisite meal they had just enjoyed. They were about to berate her again.

Emma calmly stated, “Since you have such refined taste, Mr. Singh, why not try the origin of these rose petals?”

Aiden, having only tasted a small amount, tried again. His dark eyes widened.

Sensing his reaction, Emma explained, “For Fisoland cuisine, I use roses from Foren City. But when I first saw you, I noticed the pine pendant near your pocket—a Weis state pine. I assumed you had a fondness for Weis state. So, instead of frozen Fisoland roses, I specifically had roses shipped to Troln City from Horin City, picked this morning.”

“Roses from Horin City…” Aiden recalled a mountaineering incident in Weis state, where he met the little girl who saved him and prepared that unforgettable meal. He'd carried the pine pendant ever since, in remembrance.

He’d later searched for the girl in her village, but she'd returned to her family in Troln City. He'd searched for her tirelessly, ever since returning from abroad.

Until today. Until Emma. Her food tasted identical to the girl’s.

Aiden’s expression grew serious. He stood, handing Emma his card. “Emma, I truly admire your cooking. I hope you'll join me for a culinary discussion sometime.”

From initial disdain to humble admiration, Emma’s skill had conquered Aiden and stunned everyone present. She nodded. “Alright, but I rarely cook. I doubt I’ll cook after my internship ends.”

“It doesn’t matter. If you need anything, contact me.” Aiden gazed at her intently. “Thank you… for bringing back that feeling.”

Unaware of Aiden’s other identity, Emma found him amusing and smiled casually.

After receiving the card, Aiden turned coldly to her previous detractors. “Consider yourselves fortunate to have Emma. Without her, this hotel would face a Global Hotel Association overhaul.”

Silence fell. While not on Emma's level, they weren’t incompetent either. Aiden's palate was exceptionally discerning. They wondered about his profession. He was handsome, wealthy, and a connoisseur. As their curiosity about Aiden grew, so did his admiration for Emma.

Soon, Emma’s performance reached Ttam, who was pleasantly surprised, though not entirely pleased.

That night, Emma returned home. As she changed in her bedroom, Liam pressed her against the door, kissing her forcefully, his hand on her forehead, a mixture of gentleness and dominance preventing her from pulling away.

He ended the kiss with a bite, his voice low. “Tell me everything you did today.”

Emma pouted. “You already know?” She anticipated his jealousy; she’d cooked for another man, not him. He’d be angry.

Liam looked at her. “If you're so skilled, why haven't you cooked for me?”

Emma smiled, producing an exquisite paper bag. “I knew you’d be jealous. Look what I brought you.”

Surprise flashed across his handsome face. He’d been unhappy all afternoon. She'd prepared something for him too.

“I don't eat what you give others,” he declared proudly.

Emma opened a box. “This is different. I know you dislike Fisoland cuisine; it wouldn't taste the same after so long. I marinated this before cooking for Aiden, roasting it for two hours. I brought it home after work.”

She presented it, her eyes pleading. “What do you think? Am I good?”

It was baked chicken, a complex dish requiring rare spices, fine wine, stewing, baking, and a special sauce. The difficulty rivaled Fisoland cuisine.

Liam, with his discerning palate, preferred simple dishes like baked chicken to the delicate seafood of Fisoland food—a reflection of his own nature.

“Come try it. It's amazing—” Before she finished, his lips were on hers again.

He couldn't contain himself, embracing her and kissing her deeply, pressing her against the table.

Their bodies pressed tightly together; she felt his heat.