Chapter 407 Table Salt

In Cherise’s memory, every detail from the previous day played out like a vivid scene. She couldn’t help but blush, her face resembling a blazing crimson sunset, yet she nodded with a sweet smile and said, “I could use a little something to eat.”

“I’ll make some pasta for you,” the man offered.

He responded with a warm smile and gracefully made room for her. On the bedside table behind. him sat a plate of bolognese meatball pasta.

Cherise gazed at the dish and then back at Damien. “Did you… make this?”

It was evident that this was his first attempt at preparing a meal for her.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

A sheepish chuckle escaped him. “I gave it a try; it might not be as good as your cooking, but it’s

edible.”

herself in stunned silence. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

me?

having been born into a life of privilege, had never felt the need to enter the kitchen, let alone acquire cooking skills, as he always had

house had never been without a chef. He was the kind of who

person

picked up her fork, and took a bite. It was decent, though

it’s a bit bland,” she said,

raised his hand to stop her. “Let me do it.” He double-checked, “You want salt, right?” Cherise

rose from his seat

a bottle of table salt and handed

her pasta and gave it a

to the

she took a pinch from the small bottle of salt Damien had handed

laugh at the

1/2

deep breath, she got out of bed. “I think I’ll get

on her arm. “I’ll go.

efforts were surprising, he seemed particularly helpful today, and a vague sense of foreboding began to

gently pushed his

hurried downstairs, wearing pink

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