The next few days, as Sabrina was busy preparing dishes in the small, cluttered kitchen of the restaurant, the bell above the door chimed.
It was an early morning, and she didn't expect to see a customer coming at this time. Most of the regulars didn't start trickling in until later in the day, and the thought of someone arriving so early caught her off guard.
Wiping her hands on her apron, she stepped out from behind the counter, wondering who could be visiting at this hour.
She glanced up, expecting a regular customer or maybe another delivery. Instead, she froze.
A tall, handsome man stood in the doorway, dressed in a sharp, expensive suit that made it clear he was used to power and luxury.
Thaddeus Gillcrest always carried himself with confidence, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of disdain and curiosity, as if he found her small restaurant beneath him but couldn't look away.
When his gaze met hers, the air seemed to change, thick with an unspoken tension.
Sabrina's heart skipped a beat, unsure of what to make of his presence.
Was he the one Mr. D'Angelo had sent for me as my future husband?
The thought seemed almost laughable, but it lingered in the back of her mind. She shook her head slightly, trying to push the notion away.
How could she think about that? It couldn't be that fast to find one. She hadn't even figured out the next step in her plan, let alone jumping into something so... serious.
The idea of marrying a stranger, for business, with no love involved, felt overwhelming. It seemed absurd in the moment, but ever since Mr. D'Angelo had planted the seed in her mind, her thoughts were consumed with the idea of what her future might hold.
The possibilities seemed endless, each more ridiculous than the last, but the pressure of her situation left her feeling as though any option, no matter how crazy, was worth considering.
Her pulse quickened as the thought lingered in her head. She studied him carefully, trying to read his expression, but his face remained unreadable, his eyes sharp and calculating. She couldn't help but wonder if he had been sent to fulfill the arrangement she'd discussed with Mr. D'Angelo, or if he was just another unexpected visitor.
Either way, she knew this moment would change everything.
But his next words made her hate him instantly.
"This place," Thaddeus sneered, glancing around at the worn furniture and humble décor, "it's nothing like what I expected. How do you even run a business like this? I can't believe people actually eat here. This place looks like it's falling apart."
The moment he spoke with such blatant contempt, Sabrina's temper flared.
"Excuse me, sir, but this is my restaurant," she said, her tone sharp. "If you don't like it, you're free to leave."
Her eyes flashed with anger, her lips pressing into a thin line. Who does he think he is, coming here and judging me like this? she thought. She didn't care if he was the richest man in town or the president, he had no right to judge her and her hard-earned small business.
He was the type of man she hated the most, a rich asshole who thought the world revolved around him. He probably came from a wealthy family and lived a life of privilege, never having to worry about anything. He had probably never worked a day in his life, relying on others to take care of his every need.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice tight. "Do you even have a reservation?"
The man smirked. "Of course not. Why would I reserve a seat at this dump?"
Sabrina felt her cheeks flush with anger but she tried to stay calm.
"Well," she replied coldly, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we haven't opened yet."
The man raised an eyebrow. "Really? How convenient."
"Excuse me?" Sabrina's eyes narrowed in anger. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, nothing." The man waved his hand dismissively. "Just an observation. You seem to be rather good at getting rid of customers. Perhaps you're not as busy as you'd like everyone to think?"
Sabrina's jaw clenched, her fists tightening. She was struggling to control her temper, but she couldn't help it. This man had no right to judge her restaurant. She'd worked so hard to keep the business afloat, and she wasn't about to let some pompous stranger belittle her efforts.
"Listen," she snapped, taking a step towards the man, "I don't know who you think you are, but I have no interest in hearing your opinion. If you're not here to eat, then please leave."
The man's eyes widened, as if surprised by her sudden show of anger, then narrowed dangerously.
"You don't get to talk to me like that," he growled, his voice low and threatening.
"Oh, really?" Sabrina asked sarcastically. "And why not?"
"Because," the man replied, taking a step closer, "you're dealing with me now."
Sabrina took a deep breath, trying to control her rage.
"I don't have time for this," she muttered, turning her back on the man.
Sabrina heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, then footsteps approaching.
"Don't you dare walk away from me." The man's voice was close behind her now, filled with anger and frustration.
"Please get out," Sabrina ordered, her voice shaking with rage.
The man ignored her, and a sudden wave of panic washed over her.
She spun around to face him, her heart pounding, and her eyes widened in surprise as she looked into his face. He was right there, inches from her, his blue eyes piercing into hers.
"You don't want to make an enemy of me, sweetheart," he growled.
Sabrina swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. The man's face was hard and unyielding, his eyes dark and dangerous.
"Just leave, please," Sabrina pleaded. "We're not open yet, and you're not welcome."
"I'm not leaving until I get what's mine." The man stepped forward again, his gaze dark and menacing.
What a jerk! She didn't know what this man was talking about, but she had no intention of giving him anything.
Sabrina took a step back, her eyes darting around the restaurant. She had to find a way to get this man to leave, before things got worse.
Who is this scumbag? she thought bitterly, her patience wearing thin. She had no doubt that Mr. D'Angelo had made a grave mistake by sending this arrogant jerk her way. The man's smug expression and condescending attitude only confirmed it.
She had expected someone professional, someone who could help her get the fresh start she needed, not this arrogant cockhead who seemed determined to make her life harder.
"Listen, I don't know what your problem is," Sabrina began, trying to remain calm, "but—"
Before she could finish, the man took another step towards her, his gaze seemed like a predator.
"I think you know exactly what my problem is," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
That's quite a tone he's using there! Sabrina felt a chill run down her spine. Something was wrong here. She'd had her share of obnoxious customers before, but this man was different. There was a darkness in his eyes, a dangerous edge to his voice. He was a threat, and he knew it.
She's not going to let this jerk push her around! She had to get him out of the restaurant.
"Look," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "if you're not going to order anything, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
The man's lips curled into a sneer.
"I'll leave when I'm damn well ready," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.
Sabrina felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare he speak to her like that? She was trying to be reasonable, but he was making it difficult.
She couldn't believe that the man had the nerve to behave in such a disrespectful way. She didn't care if he was the most powerful and influential man in the world, no one had the right to treat her like this.
"If you're not going to leave, then I'm going to have to ask you to wait outside," Sabrina stated, her eyes flashing with determination.
The man let out a dark chuckle.
"I don't think so."
Sabrina's heart raced, and her stomach twisted into knots. This man wasn't going to back down.
"I don't have time for your nonsense," Sabrina snapped, her patience finally breaking.
"Oh, but I have all the time in the world," the man replied, his voice dripping with malice.
Sabrina swallowed, trying to suppress the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. "What exactly do you want?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her efforts to sound calm.
She had no choice. She had to get rid of this man, whatever the cost. The tension in the room was suffocating, and every instinct told her that dealing with him was a danger she couldn't afford.
Thaddeus' smirk widened as he leaned in slightly, his gaze cold and calculating. "I can only release you with one condition," he said, his voice low and ominous.
Sabrina's voice shook slightly, but she steadied herself. "What is it?" she demanded.
He smirked, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. "A challenge for you to prove you're capable of handling what's coming next."
"What challenge are you talking about?" she asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion as she tried to gauge his intentions.
His lips curved into a smirk as he leaned closer. "Cook for me," he said, his tone almost taunting. "If you can impress me, I'll let you go. But if not, you won't be able to escape."
Sabrina's eyes widened in disbelief. "Cook for you?" she repeated, her voice rising with a mix of frustration and incredulity. "Is this some kind of joke? I'm not your personal chef."
She crossed her arms, standing her ground despite the growing tension. "What makes you think I would even consider this ridiculous challenge?"
His voice was cold, the threat clear in his words. "Because your shabby little restaurant will be at risk if you don't. One wrong move, and it could all be gone."
The man's gaze remained cold, his words calculated as he added, "I've set my eyes on this location and have plans to develop it into something else. If you want to keep your restaurant, you'll need to prove it's worth something. Impress me with your cooking, and I might reconsider."
Sabrina's jaw tightened, her grip on the counter tightening as she met his gaze. "Are you really that heartless?" she asked, her voice trembling with anger. "Threatening me and my business just to get your way?"
He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers, as if daring her to challenge him. "You don't have much of a choice, do you?"
Sabrina squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze with defiance. "I may not have a choice, but I won't let you bully me into submission." Her voice was firm, despite the uncertainty she felt.
He leaned back slightly, watching her closely, as if assessing her every reaction. "Do you have what it takes?"
Taking a deep breath, Sabrina turned and looked at him with defiance. "Fine, I'll cook for you, but only with one condition. If I fail, you can have your way, but if I impress you, I have one request." Her voice held a quiet strength, even as her nerves twisted inside. She was ready to fight for her livelihood, no matter the cost.
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what is it that you want if you impress me?" he asked, his tone both curious and calculating.
Sabrina's eyes were blazing with resolve as she looked him in the eye. Without even the slightest doubt, she squared her shoulders. Even while the decision weighed heavily on her chest, she remained steadfast. Her fingers tightened into fists at her sides before she finally spoke, her voice was firm and unflinching.
"If my cooking manages to impress you, you'll stay away from this place and stop trying to destroy my business. And one more thing—promise me you'll marry me."
He paused for a moment, his expression unreadable. The silence between them thickened, and Sabrina could almost feel the weight of his contemplation. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady.
"Marry you?" He smirked, clearly amused, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. "That's quite the condition. But if you think you can impress me, then I suppose it's worth a try."
His gaze softened just slightly, but the tension in the air remained unbroken. "I'll accept your challenge, but know this: you better be prepared to deliver."
So this was it—a showdown. A full-on battle for a damn marriage trophy. Seriously? How freaking ridiculous could this get?