Chapter 892

Rosalind stood frozen, clutching the scorched saucepan with trembling hands. "I...I messed up again. The grilled cheese is completely ruined."

Lillian burst into laughter, swiftly rescuing the blackened pan from her grasp. "Darling, let's face facts - you're a kitchen disaster. That's why I took the liberty of calling in reinforcements."

The truth stung. Rosalind had zero culinary talent, despite her stubborn insistence she could learn. The charred remains of her latest attempt proved otherwise. Relief flooded her at the thought of professional help.

"You hired a chef?" Rosalind's eyes sparkled with sudden hope. "Had I known, I would've summoned our family's Michelin-starred cook from Rosewood Manor!"

Lillian opened her mouth to respond when—

Ding-dong!

Rosalind practically skipped to the door, beaming as she swung it open. "Welcome, chef—"

Her greeting died mid-sentence. Towering in the doorway stood an imposingly familiar figure.

Lucian.

Of all people, Lucian Graves stood on her threshold.

Rosalind's fingers tightened on the doorknob. What was he doing here?

Lucian's gaze swept over her with detached indifference before looking past her into the apartment.

Lillian appeared instantly, clapping her hands. "I invited Lucian! He's practically a gourmet chef. From now on, we're banning you from anything involving stoves."

Lucian stepped inside, his aristocratic nose wrinkling. "Why does it smell like a dumpster fire in here?"

Lillian pointed dramatically toward the kitchen. "That would be Rosalind's attempt at making me lunch."

Lucian inspected the carbonized sandwich remains before leveling Rosalind with a look that screamed 'hopeless case.' "Impressive. Most people manage to burn toast, not create geological specimens."

Rosalind's cheeks burned. Humiliation complete.

"I'll handle dinner," Lucian declared, already shrugging off his tailored suit jacket to reveal a crisp white shirt that clung to his broad shoulders. He rolled up his sleeves with precise movements, exposing muscular forearms as he commandeered the kitchen.

Rosalind stared, transfixed. The sight of this powerful CEO—a man who commanded boardrooms—domesticating her kitchen was absurdly mesmerizing.

They say nothing's sexier than a man who can cook. She was beginning to understand why.

Lucian's unexpected appearance left her off-balance. Being near him again after everything...the tension was palpable.

Lillian tugged Rosalind's arm. "Come on. Let's give the master some space. He'll summon us when the masterpiece is ready."

Retreating to the bedroom, Lillian flopped onto the bed while Rosalind perched nervously on the edge.

"Did you orchestrate this?" Rosalind accused.

Lillian smirked. "What? Did my brother do something to upset you again?"

Despite her youth, Lillian was frighteningly perceptive. Rosalind had tried shielding her from their complicated history, but nothing escaped those sharp eyes.

Rosalind forced a smile. "Adult relationships are complicated, sweetheart."

Lillian suddenly embraced her. "Stop treating me like a child! You're the only sister I want. I'm still waiting for you two to—"

Rosalind gently booped Lillian's nose. "No meddling in grown-up affairs, little miss matchmaker."

The scent of something delicious began wafting from the kitchen, making Rosalind's stomach growl. Against her better judgment, she found herself stealing glances toward the man who'd once broken her heart—now miraculously cooking her dinner.