31 | Breath of Fresh Air

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Burying myself in the kitchen preparing for a dinner where Ivan Petrov is attending tonight is stressing me out

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Burying myself in the kitchen preparing for a dinner where Ivan Petrov is attending tonight is stressing me out. I dismissed the cooks and maids, giving them some time off.

I might have made a mistake in doing that, I may take on the mother role in this house but I can't cook for shit. I'm just the brother who is always there for others to lean on, and always giving them advice.

I've been staring in the food cupboard for twenty minutes now, I have no idea what to cook tonight. I mean I can do spaghetti on toast, Nah that seems too simple.

"Whatcha doing?" A voice says behind me, startled I let out a scream, spinning around laying a hand on my chest breathing heavily.

"Fucking hell Val, you scared the living shit out of me," I grumble, flicking her forehead before turning around to stare at the cupboard again.

She chuckles behind me, she pushes me to the side and scans the food, "you dismissed the cooks didn't you Vince?"

Sighing, "yeah well I thought I had a handle on this then I realized I can't cook for shit," I exclaim, waving my arm around.

"Well, good thing I'm here to help. I mean at least Alec will see I'll be a good wife being able to cook," she cackles.

"That's not funny Val, you're not marrying that boy ever. We'll all agree, but back to the main issue, what are we cooking?"

She scoffs, "yeah cause being in an arranged marriage isn't the main issue —" she says rolling her eyes at me, "but for your information, we're going to make basil pesto pasta with chicken, something simple and easy."

My eyebrows pinched together as she goes into the cupboard grabbing the things we need then handing them to me before moving on to the fridge.

Once we have everything we place it all on the bench, she then grabs two aprons, handing me a pink one while she puts on the black one.

I swear this girl always wears black.

She gets out some pots and pans, yet again my eyebrows pinch together in confusion. She looks at me and bursts out laughing, "you have no clue what's happening do you?"

Clearing my throat uncomfortable, "no — not really," my voice comes out small and unsure.

"Tsk tsk, Vince what happens when you move out into your own house, what are you going to eat then?" She wonders.

"That's what frozen meals, take away or even 2-minute noodles are for sorellina —" I shrug, I start groaning to myself when I realize I am fucking useless, "where'd you learn to cook anyway?"

She smiles, "When Nate and I were living with Carlos he wanted us to explore some hobbies where we can express ourselves and connect, cooking and music were mine. Therefore I went to some cooking lessons and it was amazing."

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