Chapter 96. Pan-seared Filet Mignon With A Red Wine And Black Truffle Butter Reduction, Served Alongside Garlic Rosemary Fondant Potatoes

Chapter 96: Chapter 96. Pan-seared Filet Mignon With A Red Wine And Black Truffle Butter Reduction, Served Alongside Garlic Rosemary Fondant Potatoes

Chapter 96. Pan-seared Filet Mignon With A Red Wine And Black Truffle Butter Reduction, Served Alongside Garlic Rosemary Fondant Potatoes

She sat quietly in the living room, lost in her own thoughts with her palms tightly clasped together. Her head raced with tormenting images, lingering doubts, and endless, unanswered questions.

It was only the sudden, mouthwatering aroma wafting from the kitchen that pulled her back to reality. She flinched, sniffing once, then twice. Her eyelids fluttered as the delicious scent hit her.

Oh my God, she thought, her eyes widening. Is there a Michelin five-star culinary chef cooking in the kitchen?

She snapped her head toward the kitchen door, glaring at it through squinted eyes. Don was surely the only one in there. Was there a maid in there assisting him, too? She bit her bottom lip, curiosity gnawing at her.

Rising slowly from the chair, she tiptoed toward the door, gradually quickening her steps. But just as she reached the entrance, the door swung open.

Panicking, Rosa pivoted on her tiptoes in a swift, awkward spin, veering toward a completely different corner of the living room as if that had been her destination all along. She nervously folded her arms behind her back, scratching at her neck and clearing her throat.

"Oh my God, such an interesting piece of art," she said sarcastically, pointing at a wall decor piece like it was the sole reason she had walked over.

Don froze by the kitchen entrance, catching sight of her figure. A twitch appeared at the corner of his lips. He shook his head softly, tilting it to the side. This girl, he thought to himself.

"You don’t have to pretend. I already know the scent caught you. You were obviously coming over to figure out who was cooking."

Rosa’s eyelids fluttered nervously, and she scratched her neck again, a bright blush spreading across her cheeks. "No, that’s not the case at all," she stammered, but Don completely ignored her.

He stepped out carrying two plates of steaming hot food, moving through the archway that separated the dining room from the living room. He set the plates down gently on the table, then reached up to adjust the oven mitts on his hands. He was also wearing an apron. She blinked, observing him closely.

Was he really the one who cooked that? she wondered.

The aromatic steam filled the air, tormenting her nostrils with its mouthwatering intensity. She found herself drooling as her eyes landed on the dish on the table. Right on cue, her stomach let out a loud, traitorous grumble.

Don heard it. He froze mid-motion, halfway through pulling the glove off his hand. He shifted his gaze across the living room to look at her, then let his eyes drift down toward her stomach. He scoffed with a light chuckle, tilting his head with a teasing smirk.

"Well, I suspected you might be hungry," he said, gesturing toward the table. "You can come and have your meal. I guess I came at the right time."

She scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. "I’m not hungry."

Her stomach immediately grumbled again.

Rosa gritted her teeth. "It’s not hunger!"

Don raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. "So what was it, then?"

She pressed her lips together, the wheels turning rapidly in her head, before she quickly clutched her belly. "I don’t know," she said, faking a pained grimace. "I think it’s an upset stomach."

Don scoffed and shook his head. "You are very poor at that."

He walked off to the side, passing her with his shoulder lightly brushing against hers. Rosa closed her eyes tight and clenched her fists in frustration. The redness refused to leave her face or her neck. She stood upright, watching him as he stepped back into the kitchen.

"Sit down and relax. Let me get you something to drink along with it," he called after her.

Rosa exhaled a long breath. The moment she turned back toward the table, a bright smile spread across her lips. She rushed over and stood right in front of one of the plates, her eyes greedily raking over the delicious-looking meal. Without realizing it, her tongue poked out as she licked her lips. Her stomach grumbled all the more.

This is making it worse, she thought.

The sweet, aromatic, intoxicating smell of garlic, crushed fresh rosemary, and a heavily full-bodied red wine reduced into a sweet, dark glaze wafted up into her nose, followed by the rich scent of warm butter. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as the scent struck straight into every olfactory nerve deep inside her body. It felt like she was ascending into heaven.

Oh my God, she thought. He is so fucking good at this.

Her eyes traced every texture of the meal: the thick cut of filet mignon topped with a dark, glistening crust, drizzled generously with a glossy, deep crimson reduction that pooled beneath it, and the golden-brown fondant potatoes shimmering with basting butter. She bit her lip, staring down at it. I don’t even feel the need to touch it yet. It looks so beautiful.

Don stepped out of the kitchen with a bottle of water and a glass in his hand. He froze when he saw Rosa practically ogling the meal. He frowned in confusion, tilting his head as he scrutinized her. He saw her staring hungrily at the dish, her lips trembling slightly with anticipation.

His lips twitched. He chuckled softly, tilting his head as he folded his arms to watch her.

Her hands hovered over the plate as if she was contemplating the best way to attack it. She stylishly picked up the fork, cut into the tender meat, and slowly lifted the bite to her mouth. Her eyes traced the fork all the way up, and then she shoved it into her mouth and chewed.

All of a sudden, it looked as if bright stars began to reflect in her eyes. She closed them and let out a soft moan, tilting her head back and almost doubling over.

"Oh my God!" she groaned. "So fucking good!"

Rosa’s eyes popped wide open as she kept chewing, staring back down at the plate.

Lord, what is this? This is sorcery.

The crust yielded to meat so impossibly tender it practically melted as she chewed. The rich, savory juices mixed with the warmth of the wine reduction and the punch of garlic, leaving a lingering, luxurious coat on her tongue.

She licked her lips and glanced back at the meal once again. Fucking heavens! She dipped her fork right back in and shoved another bite into her mouth.

Don chuckled off to the side, covering his mouth with his hand. Rosa caught the slight sound mid-bite and turned around to look at him. Don quickly steadied his face back into a nonchalant frown, cleared his throat, and walked over to her.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a sharp voice.

Rosa froze and blinked, her cheeks puffed out with food. "What?" she muffled out.

He scoffed. "Look at you! Don’t you have basic decency and table manners? Why the hell would you stand and eat? There is a chair right there, clearly for you to sit in. Why would you do that?"

She blinked, looked around the table, and chuckled nervously. She bowed her head. "I’m sorry, Mr. Don," she said quickly, her voice muffled around her full mouth.

Don frowned at her. "I’m sorry. What did you say?"

She blinked and corrected herself frantically. "I mean, Don!"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Looks like you’re not going to learn until I make this hard for you, right?"

She quickly chewed the food and tried to swallow it down all at once so her mouth would be clear. Instantly, she began to cough violently, patting her chest and cheeks. Don’s eyes flinched. He looked at the bottle in his hand, opened it, poured a glass of water, and handed it over to her.

Rosa snatched it and drained the glass in one gulp. She swallowed hard and leaned back against the table, breathing heavily.

"Oh my God," she murmured. "I almost lost my voice box."

She looked back up at him, but his expression had instantly switched back to that stoic mask. She flinched and quickly sat down in the chair.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Don," she said out of habit.

Don’s eyes widened.

She cleared her throat immediately. "I mean, Don."

He scoffed and nodded. "Clearly, you are not going to learn until I teach you a lesson. Since that’s the case, I definitely know what to do."

She frowned at him.

"Since it appears you love good food so much," he said, "I’m going to let you know that this is the kind of food you are going to be enjoying from now on. Of course, if you don’t learn to follow simple instructions I give you, your punishment is that you are not going to be fed for a day anytime you commit a crime."

Rosa flinched. She blinked once, blinked twice. "I’m sorry... what?"

He chuckled with a smirk. "You heard me."

He walked around the table and sat in his own chair, setting the bottle of water in the center of the table. Settling in, he took his napkin and placed it on his lap. He reached for another napkin from the pile at the far side of the table and tossed it over to her.

"Cover yourself up," he said. He picked up his fork, closed his eyes to whisper a few words of prayer, and then began to dig into his meal.

Rosa pouted and glared at him. "How childish and heartless," she murmured under her breath. "Threatening me with food."

Don heard it. His lips twitched, but he clenched his teeth tightly together to stop himself from laughing out loud.

As he chewed his food, he slowly lifted his gaze to look at her. She was already smiling down at the dish in front of her once again. She took the napkin and placed it on her lap, staring at the meal like it was her ultimate source of joy. He scoffed and shook his head.

Well, she is one cute little foodie, isn’t she? he thought.

Rosa suddenly looked up at him. He snapped his gaze back down to his plate, avoiding her eyes.

"Mr. Don, I want to ask a question."

He froze and snapped his focus back to her.

She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes tight, and smacked her lips. "Come on, you can’t blame me! I’m used to being formal and respectful to those who are older than me. Do you really have to hold it against me?"

He smirked. "You’ve already committed a crime. No food for you tomorrow."

She gritted her teeth together. "You really mean that?"

He ignored her question. "What did you want to ask?" he said, straightening up and looking at her with raised eyebrows.

Her expression faltered. She pouted and looked off to the side. "I’ve suddenly lost the mood to ask," she murmured. "How the hell do you expect me to ask what I want to ask when you’re suddenly taking away my will to eat?"

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, seems like you’re not ready." He diverted his focus back to his meal.

"No, no, no, wait," she said quickly.

He looked back up at her.

"I just wanted to ask what the name of the food is. It looks like something I haven’t seen before."

He smiled at her. "Well, if you must know, the name is kind of long. So if you want to keep it in your head, I would suggest you write it down."

She blinked at him. "Don’t worry, I have a very good, fascinating, retentive memory."

He smirked. "In that case, then... the name of the food is pan-seared filet mignon with a red wine and black truffle butter reduction, served alongside garlic rosemary fondant potatoes."

Rosa blinked once, blinked twice. Her jaw dropped.

"What?"