Charles felt a bit scared. "Sir," he asked, "can I ask what you're planning to do at the Slotmond Estate?"

Matthew's face was as cold as ice, betraying his annoyance at Charles's nosiness. He'd never been cheated on before. He'd only recently begun to feel guilty and fond of Valerie after learning she'd saved his grandmother that morning, but she'd quickly erased any good feelings he had.

Charles was right. Matthew was a neat freak in relationships. He'd warned Valerie multiple times not to betray him during their marriage; if she had to, he'd said, wait at least six months. To his disappointment, she hadn't even waited half a year before hooking up with the man who drove a BMW.

He could have dismissed the first time he saw them together as a coincidence, but twice was unacceptable. As a man, Matthew knew what that man's gaze meant.

He was eager to confront her, but rush-hour traffic delayed him. Nearly an hour passed before he reached the Slotmond Estate.

He strode from the car, slamming the door shut with force. The loud bang made Charles wince, and he felt sorry for the car, but he dared not say so. Matthew seemed like a tightly wound balloon, ready to explode at any moment. "Oh no," Charles thought, "a big fight is about to happen. Miss Warren will have to rely on herself."

With a cold face, Matthew opened the door, mentally prepared to fiercely scold Valerie. Instead, the moment the door opened, the aroma of food filled his nostrils.

He was stunned. Several dishes sat on the table: steak, fruit salad, and steamed shrimp.

Valerie poked her head out of the kitchen, smiling. "Mr. Grant, you're back. Go wash your hands. I'm finishing the last dish, and we can eat soon!" She ducked back into the kitchen.

The kitchen and living room were separated by a glass screen. The warm yellow kitchen light illuminated the aroma of the food, and Matthew could see Valerie's busy silhouette.

Matthew was used to independence. Groomed from a young age to be the successor of the Noria Group, he'd studied abroad from age twelve. Initially, he had a butler, but his grandfather later withdrew him to toughen him up. Attending prestigious schools alone, he'd grown accustomed to a solitary life.

After returning, he bought several properties, prioritizing proximity to his company or investment potential, never considering their suitability for living. Restaurants and cafes sufficed. Only when visiting the Grant Manor would his grandmother have the chefs prepare his favorite dishes. The Grant family employed several chefs skilled in various cuisines, and their creations rivaled Michelin-starred restaurants.

This was the first time in years he'd smelled the subtle aroma of home-cooked food.

He forgot his plan to berate Valerie. He set down his briefcase, washed his hands, and sat at the dining table.

A moment later, Valerie brought out a large bowl of mushroom and vegetable soup. Three dishes and a soup for two. The presentation wasn't Michelin-star quality, but the aroma was appealing.

After a moment, Matthew asked, "What inspired you to cook?"

Valerie leaned close, a barely concealed smile playing on her lips. "Mr. Grant, as a Noria Group employee, you must know about our new luxury car dealership, right?"

Matthew's brow twitched slightly, his face remaining expressionless. "Yes, what about it?"

"Guess what? I got the job!" Valerie exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

Matthew already knew; he'd chosen her.