Breaking Free, Loving Again -The Flash Marriage with Mr. CEO
Chapter 613: No one can match his flavor.

Chapter 613: No one can match his flavor.

It felt like a strange coincidence. Especially when she heard Selene speak next.

"Yes, that’s my favourite," Selene said casually.

Arwen glanced at her, surprised at such a fluke. Was it really a chance occurrence? Or, was there something more that she was missing? She wondered silently, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Selene turned to Mr. Jones.

"I would like to have some Alfredo Fettuccine. Ask someone to prepare it."

Her tone carried the usual hint of arrogance.

But Mr. Jones didn’t respond right away. Instead, he turned to Arwen, silently awaiting her approval.

Only when Arwen gave a subtle nod did he move.

"The dish will be ready in a while," she informed Selene politely. Then, turning her attention to the table, she added, "Until then, please see if there is anything else on the table that appeals to you."

She didn’t look at the maid, but the silent signal was understood. The maid promptly stepped forward, removing Selene’s salad plate and placing a fresh one in front of her.

"What would you like to have, ma’am?" the maid asked, her voice polite but reserved —so subtle it almost seemed like a reminder: you are a guest here.

It might not be actually that, but Selene felt it that way. The subtle barrier. That quiet treatment of someone who didn’t belong.

How could she not belong when everything ... everything, including Aiden, was meant to belong to her?

Her expression tightened. "Step aside. I can do it myself."

The maid looked in Arwen’s direction. Arwen gave a small nod, and the maid respectfully retreated.

Arwen offered a composed smile as she picked her own spoon. "The people in this house are well-trained. They know how to behave and have no intention of offending our guest, Ms. Martin."

She noticed Selene reaching for a bowl of rice that was slightly out of reach, and before Selene could stretch further, Arwen leaned in and helped her pass it.

"But," she continued, still courteous, "if by any chance you feel uncomfortable or disrespected, please let me know. I will take full responsibility."

She just wanted to make herself sound courteous, but unknowingly it only further announced her authority in the place, pissing Selene more.

She stared at her for a long moment, her grip tightening slightly on the bowl.

She hated that condescending calm, and cool arrogance of Arwen. She wanted to destroy every shred of her and her confidence ... but she couldn’t.

She wanted to snap. To grab something —anything —and throw it at her.

But with Aiden sitting beside her, she had no room to show her true face. Not when she could see the way he favours her.

"Don’t worry," she said with a forced smile, her tone clipped and lofty. "I am not new to this. Being a Martin by birth, I know how to deal with the people who are kept around to serve."

With her words, she made sure to give Arwen an idea that she was not someone she should think of trifling with.

But soon her brows tugged in a frown when Arwen didn’t show any reaction. She was like she heard her say something that wasn’t important at all.

Was she testing her patience?

Selene felt she was.

Not long after, a chef came out with the dish prepared. He placed it on the table before taking his leave.

Arwen glanced at it. Although the dish looked the same, there felt something different in the aroma. And she wasn’t surprised by that. After all, this wasn’t especially cooked by her husband.

A small smile lifted her lips, which Selene noticed well. And even though she wanted to ignore it, she couldn’t.

"What’s wrong?" she asked, and Arwen shook her head.

"It’s nothing. I am just surprised by how a dish looks so familiar yet so different." She then turned to look at Aiden and continued, "Although this looks equally appetizing, I can bet it doesn’t taste like the one you prepare."

Aiden turned to look at her, and she arched a brow in challenge.

"Want to make a bet?"

Aiden glanced at her and was about to speak when Selene suddenly spoke from the side.

"What do you mean by that?" Her tone seemed somewhere lost. Like she was struggling to believe something.

Arwen didn’t understand it. She glanced at her, slightly confused at her reaction.

"It’s just a small bet —"

"Not that," Selene shook her head, interrupting her. "I wanted to ask what you mean that you can bet this doesn’t taste like one that Aiden prepares."

Wasn’t the meaning clear enough?

Arwen frowned a little, but anyway said, "Oh, I just meant the recipe that Aiden prepares is unique and the best. No one can match his flavour."

Selene’s grip tightened around the spatula. She couldn’t react. How could she when she knew Aiden wouldn’t prepare that dish for just anyone?

He wouldn’t.

Then why had he let her taste it? Why had he prepared it for her?

She stared at Arwen with pure envy. Not able to understand what was so special about her.

Could she be —?

Before that thought even crossed her mind, she shook it away —not ready to accept it.

Her mind raced, denying the one possibility that seemed to be surfacing again and again.

How could that be even possible?

"Didn’t you want to have it?" Aiden’s voice came, snapping Selene out of her thoughts. He motioned for her to look down at the plate, "Have it before it gets cold."

He then pulled his hand up to check the time on his watch. "It’s getting late. I have prepared the car for you. It will take you back once you are done."

For the entire time he had been there, he had barely said anything to her. And now that he had spoken, it was for asking her to leave.

Selene’s fingers fisted together. She stared at him and then stood up. "I am not feeling well," she said, "I think I should head back first."