Christina strolled into the bustling kitchen, startling the head chef who was already under pressure preparing the morning breakfast. He hurried over, a hint of trepidation in his voice, "Can I assist you with something, Ma'am?"
"I want to bake some cupcakes," Christina replied, scanning the vast kitchen and the flurry of activity. She sensed the staff's discomfort at her intrusion but enjoyed cooking; it was her stress reliever. Today, however, she had a specific purpose: baking for Reylan's sweet-toothed grandfather as a token of gratitude for allowing their contract marriage.
And why had he agreed? She was eager to find out, and what better way to initiate a chat than over homemade cupcakes?
"We can prepare them for lunch, Ma'am. Do you need anything else?" the chef asked politely, only to be met with a firm shake of Christina's head.
