Chapter 5

Rachel's POV

Xavier was definitely sick.

He clearly had ten chefs on call at any time, but insisted on forcing me-someone who couldn't cook-to make him food.

"Can't make it? Then forget about that fifty thousand."

For money, I endured.

I struggled in the kitchen spacious enough to run laps in.

I could only make oatmeal.

When the oatmeal started bubbling, that annoying system voice came again.

"Daily mission issued. Put something in this meal to make it inedible! And mock him with: 'You think you deserve to eat my cooking?'"

"Put something in it?" I was shocked. "Where am I supposed to get anything?"

System: "The salt shaker is right beside you. Salting him to death is also a kind of poison."

I looked at the salt shaker by my hand, then at Xavier sitting at the dining table reading the newspaper outside.

He wore gold-rimmed glasses, looking like a refined scoundrel, seemingly in a decent mood.

My hand trembled.

Pouring half a jar of salt into porridge-eating that would require kidney dialysis, wouldn't it?

But I had no choice.

If I didn't do it, before the porridge even left the kitchen, I'd collapse from heart pain first.

I took a deep breath. When no one was looking, I grabbed the salt shaker and started pouring it into the bowl.

Pouring while feeling guilty, my hand shook too badly. Accidentally, the lid came loose.

An entire jar of salt dumped into that poor bowl of plain porridge.

It piled up like a snow mountain.

I was dumbfounded.

This wasn't even a question of salty or not anymore. This was a lethal dose, wasn't it?

I wanted to scoop it out, but the salt dissolved too quickly.

"Done yet? Need me to come get you?"

Xavier's urging voice came through.

I steeled myself and carried out that bowl of oatmeal that could poison an elephant.

"Eat."

I set the bowl heavily in front of him, putting on an expression that needed a beating as the system required. "Eat until you drop dead."

Xavier raised an eyebrow, looked at the oatmeal, then at me.

"What new trick is this?"

He picked up the spoon. Without even stirring, he scooped a large spoonful directly into his mouth.

I held my breath, watching his Adam's apple move.

In that moment, I'd even prepared to call an ambulance.

"Don't drink it! It'll kill you!"

I shouted uncontrollably, reaching out to grab his bowl.

That was pure salt!

But Xavier avoided my hand and swallowed that mouthful without changing expression.

Didn't even furrow his brow.

I was stunned.

Had he lost his sense of taste?

Xavier set down the spoon, picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth, and looking at my horrified expression, actually smiled slightly.

That smile was faint but made my heart ache.

"I remember you always loved pulling these kinds of pranks."

He said lightly, his eyes actually holding a trace of nostalgia. "Still the same taste. Hasn't changed at all."

"As long as you made it with your own hands, I'd drink poison too."

The last half-sentence was so quiet it was almost like talking to himself.

I froze in place, my fingers curling up.

My heart felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton soaked in salt water-astringent and blocked.

He knew.

He'd always known I did it on purpose.

But he accepted it all.

Just like five years ago when I tore up all his homework and threw it in the trash so he couldn't turn it in.

The next day, he'd silently pieced the scraps back together, stayed up all night rewriting it, and still brought me my favorite toast.

"Why?"

I asked hoarsely, my eyes reddening again.

Xavier didn't answer. He stood up and straightened his cuffs.

"Done eating. Let's go."

"Where?"

"The hospital." He glanced at me. "To see your mother."

I jerked my head up.

"Don't misunderstand," he said with a cold laugh, reverting to that cutting manner. "I'm just going to see if I can transfer your mother to my private hospital. After all... if you're going to serve me in this half-dead state, I find it inauspicious."