The clang of metal against metal, the hiss of searing meat, the thick scent of caramelized onions and saffron-infused broth—Sienna was in the heart of battle. Sweat gathered at the base of her neck, but she ignored it, her hands moving with practiced precision as she plated the final component of her dish.
And yet, her mind wasn't fully here. It was still stuck on him.
That arrogant, insufferable man.
Rocco.
She hadn't even known his name, but the moment he walked away and his bodyguard shoved that check into her hand like she was some beggar, she'd asked around. And of course, she'd found out.
Rocco Montenegro.
Hotel owner. Businessman. The kind of man who radiated power with every step, who looked at her like she was nothing.
The check burned in her pocket. Two thousand dollars. A ridiculous amount. She should have torn it to shreds right in front of him. But instead, here she was, still fuming, still thinking about the way his sharp jaw tensed when she dared to touch him. The way his light brown hair looked perfectly tousled, as if even chaos bent to his will. The way his dark, dangerous eyes held something she couldn't quite name.
No. Focus, Sienna. Focus.
She exhaled sharply and turned back to her station.
There were only minutes left in the competition. Around her, other chefs worked frantically, their movements precise, their focus razor-sharp. The judges—some of the best culinary critics in the city—observed everything, their expressions unreadable.
Among them was Lucinda Álvarez, the woman Sienna had admired for years. A renowned reporter, always effortlessly elegant, always in control. She was watching, sipping from a wine glass, her lips curling into an amused smile as she studied the contestants.
Sienna refused to falter.
She had chosen to make Arroz Caldoso de Marisco, a rich, brothy seafood rice dish her mother used to make. It was comforting, nostalgic, but elevated with her own modern twist—seared scallops, a saffron-infused shellfish broth, and a citrus foam to cut through the richness.
Everything was going perfectly. Until it wasn't.
A Major Mishap
One second, she was reaching for her finishing garnish. The next, she realized something was missing.
Her fresh herbs—gone.
Her eyes darted around frantically. Had she misplaced them? No. They had been right there. Someone had taken them.
A cold realization settled in her chest. Sabotage.
She turned sharply, her gaze landing on one of the other contestants—Elena, a cutthroat chef with something to prove. And in Elena's station? Sienna's herbs, casually mixed in with her own ingredients.
Rage flared inside her, but there was no time to argue. No time to fix this.
Her hands shook for only a second before instinct took over. She pivoted, adjusting on the fly. Instead of the herbs, she grabbed a hint of smoked paprika, adding an unexpected depth to her broth. A risk. A bold one.
The clock counted down. Three… two… one…
And just like that, it was over.
The Judgment
Sienna stepped back, her chest heaving as the judges made their rounds.
One by one, they tasted, murmuring amongst themselves.
When they reached her, Lucinda was the first to take a bite. Sienna barely breathed as the woman's lips wrapped around the spoon. For a second, Lucinda said nothing. Then, her brows lifted, her tongue running briefly over her bottom lip.
"Well," she said, voice smooth as silk. "That was unexpected."
The other judges nodded in agreement, their murmurs of approval making something inside Sienna unclench.
She didn't win first place.
But she won something better.
Lucinda waited until the competition had officially ended before approaching her. She was graceful, controlled, every step deliberate. When she reached Sienna, she smiled.
"You're talented," Lucinda said simply.
Sienna flushed. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."
Lucinda tilted her head, as if studying her. "I mean it. Your kind of talent shouldn't go to waste."
Sienna barely had time to process those words before Lucinda leaned in slightly, lowering her voice.
"I might have an opportunity for you."
Sienna blinked. "An opportunity?"
Lucinda nodded, taking out a sleek black card from her handbag. "I know someone looking for a personal chef. He's very particular about what he eats, but I have a feeling you'd impress him."
Sienna's breath hitched. Was this really happening?
She took the card with slightly trembling fingers, her heart hammering as she read the address.
Then, something clicked.
"This address…" she murmured.
Lucinda arched a brow.
"I was already planning to go there for an interview this weekend."
Lucinda's smile widened, but there was something knowing behind it. "Is that so? Well, consider yourself lucky, querida. I'll be there, and I'll make sure you win."
Sienna's pulse quickened. She wanted this—desperately.
She had no idea that fate was already pulling her deeper into a world she wasn't prepared for.