Nadia Donovan posted on her social media with both photos and text. [Thanks to my boss for celebrating my birthday with me]
Nadia was my husband's assistant, and the photo was of her and my husband.
Today was Nadia's birthday. It was also mine.
I had arranged with my husband in advance, asking him to put work aside for a while so we could spend the day together.
He had told me he was busy.
Looking at this post, uploaded just a minute ago, I called my husband.
"Where are you?" My tone was far from pleasant.
"Still mad?" His voice came through the receiver. "It's just a birthday, is it really that serious? You know the company is growing right now. I'm in Huntsville meeting with President Parker, I can't make it back."
"Fine. Then keep busy."
I hung up and zoomed in on the photo Nadia posted. I recognized the restaurant instantly.
I decided to go and see for myself, see how Adrian Hayes, the so-called Chairman Hayes, would explain himself on a battlefield where the truth left no room to hide.
——
There was a quiet alley in the capital, and hidden within it was a small restaurant. This place never served the public; it was a private sanctuary for Adrian and me.
When we were in a good mood, we came here to dine. When we were in a bad mood, we came here to ease the weight on our hearts.
Maverick Lewis specialized in medicinal cuisine, and his cooking perfectly suited both Adrian's and my tastes.
Eating his dishes here felt like drawing a clear line between ourselves and the rest of the world.
This was our paradise.
I never brought friends here, and Adrian never brought anyone else either. It was an unspoken understanding between us.
But today, he broke it.
The photo Nadia posted was taken here. The seat she sat in was the very one I had always used.
I drove to the entrance of the alley and spotted Adrian's car.
So this was the "busy" he had mentioned.
I sat in my car for a long while without stepping out, a sharp sting twisting in my chest as anger slowly rose.
It seemed that after the rapid rise of the Hayes family in recent years, Adrian no longer took me seriously.
Very well, then I would show him whether the woman he once relied on was truly useless now.
I pushed open the door, stepped into the alley, and walked toward the restaurant.
"This is delicious. And this one's not bad either," Nadia was commenting on the dishes laid out before her.
She pointed at Maverick, who stood nearby. "Hey, Maverick, make another serving of everything I just mentioned and pack it for me to take home."
A shadow of displeasure crossed Maverick's face. Even I would always address him respectfully as Uncle Maverick, and I had never asked him to prepare extra dishes.
In Maverick's words, cooking was an art. What dishes to make and how to prepare them depended entirely on his mood. Every time I came, he would surprise me.
He never repeated the same dish. Even something as simple as shredded spicy potato, if he made it twice, would always be done differently, with a fresh twist in its preparation.
Maverick's gaze shifted to Adrian, his temper held in check, offering him a measure of respect.
"Nadia likes it. Hurry and make it," Adrian said calmly.
"Make what?" I asked, stepping in from the doorway.
Adrian's expression turned slightly unnatural when he saw me.
"President Serrano," Nadia quickly stood up, her smile polite but tight. "I just wanted Maverick to make a few extra dishes for my mom to try."
"Who the hell is your mom to deserve Uncle Maverick's cooking?"
My bluntness caught her off guard. She glanced at Adrian, silently pleading for him to speak on her behalf.
Adrian had never seen me like this before. He was quiet for a moment before casting a brief glance at her.
"You go out first."
