Nadia stood completely frozen in the center of the sunroom, and she stared at me with wide eyes because she clearly never expected a working-class waitress to speak to her with such fierce confidence.
Her jaw dropped open slightly, yet she could not formulate a single verbal response to my harsh insult regarding her past betrayal. Eliza looked deeply embarrassed by the sudden turn of events, and the older, wealthy women remained entirely silent on the velvet sofas.
I did not wait for any of them to recover from their shock, and I simply turned my back toward the hostile group. I walked out of the heavy glass doors with my head held high, and I heard Dahlia's footsteps following closely behind me on the marble floor.
We navigated the long corridors of the Kingsley estate in complete silence until we reached the massive primary kitchen on the first floor.
My heart was beating rapidly inside my chest from the intense confrontation, and my hands trembled slightly from the residual adrenaline. I needed a physical task to release my nervous energy, so I walked directly to the deep stainless steel sink and washed my hands thoroughly with warm water and antibacterial soap.
Henry the head chef, was currently organizing the massive walk-in pantry, so the main cooking area was completely empty.
"You were incredibly brave inside that room, Freya," Dahlia said while she sat down on a tall wooden stool next to the granite island. "Nadia always intimidates everyone with her cruel remarks, and my mother never allows anyone to challenge her authority, but you completely humiliated both of them without raising your voice."
"I refuse to let entitled people bully me just because they possess expensive designer clothing and large bank accounts," I replied while I opened the wooden cabinets to gather my baking supplies.
"However, the social confrontation was highly stressful, and I need to bake something sweet to calm my nerves right now. Do you want to help me make chocolate chip cookies from scratch?"
"I have never baked anything in my entire life because the household staff always prepares our meals, but I would love to learn the process," Dahlia answered eagerly, and she walked over to the sink to wash her own hands.
I retrieved two large glass mixing bowls from the lower shelf, and I placed them onto the smooth granite counter. I walked over to the commercial refrigerator and extracted two sticks of unsalted butter alongside a carton of fresh brown eggs.
I handed Dahlia a metal measuring cup and a heavy bag of granulated white sugar, and I instructed her to measure the exact quantities while I poured a generous amount of brown sugar into the first glass bowl.
We spent the next twenty minutes working together in a comfortable rhythm. I showed her how to crack the eggs without dropping the hard shells into the batter, and she helped me stir the thick mixture with a heavy wooden spoon until the ingredients were completely combined.
"Nadia betrayed Mason three years ago when she sold confidential corporate documents to a rival company," Dahlia explained quietly while she poured a large bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips into the dough.
"Mason trusted her completely, but she only cared about increasing her own personal wealth, and the betrayal destroyed his ability to trust anyone. My mother always liked Nadia because she comes from a prominent family, so my mother was incredibly angry when Mason canceled the wedding."
"Your brother is an arrogant man, but he did not deserve to experience that terrible betrayal."
I noted that while I used a metal scoop to portion the raw cookie dough onto a flat aluminum baking sheet. "Nadia clearly regrets losing her connection to his billionaire lifestyle, but she will never successfully intimidate me into leaving this house before my contract expires."
I placed the baking sheet inside the hot oven and set the digital timer for twelve minutes. We cleaned the dirty glass bowls and wiped the spilled flour off the granite counter while we waited for the cookies to bake.
The sweet smell of melting chocolate and warm vanilla eventually filled the massive kitchen, completely replacing the sterile scent of the cleaning chemicals.
The timer beeped loudly, so I used thick cotton pads to remove the hot metal tray from the oven, and I transferred the soft cookies onto a wire rack to cool properly.
We stood next to the counter and ate the warm cookies together, enjoying the peaceful domestic atmosphere. However, our quiet moment was abruptly shattered when we heard the heavy front doors of the mansion open and close with a loud thud.
Heavy footsteps echoed across the marble foyer, signaling Mason's return from his corporate office, and Eliza's shrill voice immediately intercepted him in the hallway.
"Your new wife is an absolute disaster, Mason, and she completely ruined my afternoon tea party," Eliza shouted angrily from the grand foyer, and her voice was loud enough for Dahlia and me to hear every single word clearly from the kitchen.
"She insulted my closest friends, and she verbally attacked Nadia in front of the most influential women in the city. You must discipline her immediately because she is destroying our family reputation."
"I secured the Chief Executive Officer position this afternoon because the board of directors accepted the legal marriage certificate, so your social gathering is completely irrelevant to my current priorities," Mason replied in a cold, dismissive tone that offered his stepmother absolutely no emotional support.
"I will manage Freya's behavior myself, and you will stop complaining about her actions."
Eliza made a frustrated noise, and we heard her high heels clicking rapidly up the main staircase. A few seconds later, Mason walked through the wooden swinging door and entered the kitchen.
He had removed his silk tie, and the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone, revealing a small section of his collarbone.
He looked incredibly exhausted from his corporate battles, but his dark eyes sharpened when he saw me standing next to the granite island eating a warm chocolate chip cookie.
He observed the slight dusting of white flour on my denim jeans, and he looked at the wire rack filled with baked goods before he focused his attention directly on my face.
Dahlia immediately stopped smiling and stepped backward to create physical distance between us because she was deeply intimidated by her older brother's severe presence.
"I assume you successfully defeated your cousin Aiden today, considering you are standing in this kitchen instead of packing your belongings into a cardboard box," I stated calmly, refusing to show any fear despite his intense stare.
"Aiden lost his campaign because the executive committee accepted our legal union, so my inheritance is completely secure," Mason confirmed while he walked closer to the kitchen island.
"However, the corporate journalists discovered the legal filing this afternoon, and they are demanding an immediate press conference to verify the legitimacy of our sudden marriage. They will arrive at the front gates of this estate at exactly nine o'clock tomorrow morning, and they will photograph you extensively for the financial news publications."
"I already agreed to interact with the media when I signed the contract, so I will answer their questions politely," I replied, and I picked up a paper napkin to wipe the melted chocolate from my fingers.
"Polite answers will not satisfy the press, because they will scrutinize your physical appearance to determine if you truly belong in my high-society world," Mason argued in a harsh, demanding tone.
"I hired a highly exclusive team of professional stylists, and they will arrive at your bedroom at eight o'clock tomorrow morning to prepare you for the cameras. They will apply extreme chemical treatments to alter the color of your hair, and they will provide revealing designer clothing to project the specific image of a wealthy, sophisticated socialite. You will submit to their instructions completely, and you will not argue with their fashion choices."
I dropped the paper napkin onto the counter, and I felt a familiar surge of intense anger building inside my chest. I was willing to pretend we were married to protect Carl's Diner, but I absolutely refused to let a team of strangers erase my personal identity just to satisfy a group of greedy corporate journalists.
"You humiliated my former fiancée today, so tomorrow you will allow my professional stylists to completely erase your waitressing background, or I will withhold your first financial payment," Mason threatened coldly while he looked at my flour-covered hands.
I crossed my arms defensively over my chest, and I glared directly into his dark eyes without stepping backward.
"You can force me to wear expensive fabric, but you cannot purchase my absolute compliance, and I will physically remove any stylist who attempts to alter my natural hair," I replied.