Chapter 7 - THE KITCHEN OF THE ICE KINGThree days later, the East River estate was back to its terrifying, orderly routine.
The white roses from the ruined ceremony had been cleared away, replaced by rows of neatly trimmed boxwood hedges. The armed guards at the gates stood at attention, their black suits immaculate, their expressions carved from stone.
Inside the vast, industrial-grade stainless steel kitchen, the air smelled of roasted garlic, fresh basil, and vanilla bean.
At the long marble prep table, a little girl with a newly braided hair ribbon sat on a high stool, her small legs swinging back and forth as she dipped a spoon into a massive bowl of chocolate mousse.
Adrian Vale stood nearby, leaning against the counter with a steaming cup of black coffee in his hand. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket; his white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing pale, muscular forearms and a faint scar running along his left wrist.
“Is it good?” Adrian asked.
Maddie swallowed a spoonful of mousse, her big brown eyes looking up at him with a mixture of awe and lingering caution.
“It’s better than the store kind,” she admitted, her voice small.
A woman in a crisp white kitchen uniform walked over from the walk-in refrigerator, wiping her hands on a clean towel. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but for the first time in two years, the dark circles under them seemed lighter, as if a crushing weight had finally been lifted from her shoulders.
“Mr. Vale,” she said softly, lowering her head in a respectful nod. “You didn't have to... the schooling fund, the relocation papers... it’s too much.”
Adrian took a sip of his coffee. “It’s not charity, Mrs. Hart.”
She looked up, confused. “Then what is it?”
“It’s an adjustment for unpaid labor and administrative oversight,” Adrian said, his face remaining entirely deadpan. “Benjamin tells me our kitchen inventory has been off by precisely forty-eight dollars and twenty cents a month since 2022. I’m simply correcting the ledger.”
Mrs. Hart stared at him for a long moment, a slow, watery smile breaking across her tired face. She reached out and touched Maddie’s braid gently.
“Thank you, Mr. Vale.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Adrian said, setting his coffee cup down on the stainless steel counter. “Benjamin says Maddie has a knack for mathematics. When she turns ten, she starts accounting training in the basement.”
Maddie gasped, her eyes going wide. “Do I get a calculator with buttons that click?”
May you like
Adrian’s lips twitched—just a fraction of an inch, enough to be human.
“The best buttons money can buy,” he said.
