Chapter 281

"Then find a chef who suits your taste." She pressed her lips together in a faint smile.

William Johnson gazed at Emily Smith's reflection in the mirror, her hands covered in foam. His eyes crinkled with amusement. "Hiring someone now would mean missing lunch."

"Do you only enjoy meals when I deliver them?" She arched a brow.

He nuzzled against her neck. "You spoil me the most, Emily."

She sighed in resignation.

"Fine, I'll bring it later." She calculated the time. "Can you wait?"

"For you? As long as it takes." His grin was boyish, like a child who'd just gotten candy.

At 8:45 AM, William finally left.

The moment the door closed, Emily exhaled deeply. She opened her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting scattered specks of light on the desk.

By 12:30 PM, she shut the laptop. Soon, the clatter of pots and pans echoed from the kitchen.

Cooking came effortlessly when she was in high spirits. Sliced beef with green peppers sizzled in the wok, while glazed shrimp shimmered temptingly. A final ladle of egg drop soup filled the kitchen with its rich aroma.

As she packed the meal into an insulated container, her lips curved upward. Who knew delivering food to someone could feel this unexpectedly satisfying?

1:30 PM. A silver Lexus glided into BestTech's underground garage. Emily scanned the area, ensuring no familiar faces were around before grabbing the food container and heading to the elevator.

Ding—

The elevator doors opened to reveal the entire secretarial staff looking up in unison. Grace Lee's expression darkened as she hurried forward.

"Emily?" Her gaze dropped to the pink insulated box.

"Is he in?" Emily smiled.

The sharp click of heels against marble suddenly rang out. Olivia Davis strode from the direction of the CEO's office, her red dress flaring like flames.

"Still trying to win favors after quitting?" Olivia's eyes locked onto the food container, her hand already reaching to snatch it.

Emily sidestepped. "Miss Davis, mind your manners."

"You dare talk back to me?" Olivia's eyes blazed, her nails digging into her palms.

Grace opened her mouth to intervene but was cut off by a sharp command.

"Hand it over!" Olivia advanced again.

Emily met her gaze evenly. "This is my personal property."

She turned to leave but was yanked back violently. Olivia raised her hand—the container teetered, about to spill—

"Olivia!"

William's voice sliced through the air like ice. He strode down the hallway, the hem of his suit jacket flaring with each step.

Olivia smirked, tightening her grip. The lid of the container popped open slightly, splashing hot broth onto Emily's hand. A red welt bloomed instantly.