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Ordered To Serve His Mistress: Heiress's Revenge

Ordered To Serve His Mistress: Heiress's Revenge

My fiancé sent me a text ordering me to serve his mistress, unaware that the waitress holding the tray was actually the daughter of the man who owned his soul. I was working undercover at his club, playing the role of a poor nobody to test his character before our wedding. But tonight, the test ended in disaster. His mistress, Jaden, walked in and treated me like dirt. When I brought her drink, she slapped the tray, spilling scalding coffee all over my hand. The pain was white-hot. My skin blistered instantly, peeling away in angry red patches. I showed Connor the injury on a video call, expecting protection. Expecting him to be a man. Instead, he looked at my burned hand and then at his investors. Panic filled his eyes. "Fix it, Blake," he roared. "Apologize to her." "She burned me," I said quietly. "I don't care! Kneel if you have to. Kiss her ring. Just make her happy so I can finish this deal!" He told the Principessa of the Shaw crime family to kneel to a woman who meant nothing. He sacrificed his future wife to save face. Something inside me snapped. It wasn't my heart; it was the leash I had placed on myself. "Okay," I whispered. I hung up the phone and dropped it into a pot of boiling pasta water. Then I turned to the Executive Chef, a former hitman who recognized the lethal shift in my eyes. "Lock the doors," I ordered. "And tell my father I'm ready to burn this place to the ground."
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Chapter 3

I shoved my hand under the cold water tap in the prep sink, hissing through my teeth. But the relief was minor. The damage was done. The kitchen was a chaotic symphony of shouted orders and sizzling pans, a machine running at full steam. But everything stopped dead when Jaden Juarez walked in. She pushed through the swinging doors like she owned the building. "It smells disgusting in here," she announced, wrinkling her nose as if she'd stepped into a sewer. She walked right up to the pass, ignoring the frantic workflow around her. "I want a steak," she said to the line cooks. "Wagyu. And put my caviar on it." She slammed a small, warm jar of caviar onto the stainless steel counter. It was cheap caviar. A personal stash she'd dragged in from God knows where. Austin Gordon stepped out from the back. He was the Executive Chef, a giant of a man with arms covered in ink that disappeared under his pristine chef's whites. He didn't move like a cook. He moved like a predator. Silent. Efficient. Lethal. He looked at the jar of caviar, his expression unreadable. "No," Austin said. His voice was a deep rumble that vibrated through the floorboards. "Excuse me?" Jaden asked, blinking. "That's a health code violation," Austin said, crossing his massive arms. "And it's an insult to the meat. I won't serve it." Jaden's face turned purple. She whipped out her phone. "I'm calling Connor." She hit FaceTime and held the phone up, panning it around the kitchen to expose the staff. "Say hello to your boss," she sneered. Connor's face appeared on the screen. He looked beyond stressed. He was in a boardroom, and I could see men in suits behind him. Investors. The Apex Cartel. "Jaden, honey, I'm in a meeting," Connor said, his voice tight. "Your staff is abusing me!" Jaden wailed, turning on the waterworks instantly. "The chef won't cook my food, and that waitress attacked me!" She turned the camera on me. I was still at the sink, clutching my wet, burned hand. I looked directly into the lens. I held up my hand. The blisters were bubbling now, angry and red. Connor saw it. I saw his eyes widen, a flicker of genuine worry passing through the pixelated image. "Blake?" he said. "She burned me," I said. My voice carried clearly over the kitchen noise. "She threw a drink at me!" Jaden screamed over me. "Connor, look at these people! They don't respect you! They don't respect who I am!" The men behind Connor shifted. One of them checked his watch. I saw Connor's gaze dart to the investor. Panic flared in his eyes. He had to look in control. He had to look like a boss who could manage his house. "Give her what she wants," Connor snapped. "Connor," I said, my voice low. "She assaulted me." "I don't care!" he roared. "I have five million dollars on the table right now! Jaden is a guest! Fix it!" Austin stepped into the frame, blocking out the kitchen lights. "You want us to apologize to the assailant?" Austin asked. "I want peace!" Connor screamed. "Blake, apologize to her. Now." The kitchen went dead silent. "What?" I asked. "Kneel if you have to," Connor said. "Beg her pardon. Kiss her ring. I don't care. Just make her happy so I can finish this deal." Kneel. He told the daughter of David Shaw to kneel to a badge bunny. He told his future wife to bow to his mistress. I felt something snap inside me. It wasn't my heart. It was the leash I had placed on myself. "Are you sure, Connor?" I asked. "Do it!" he yelled. "That is a direct order!" I looked at the phone. I looked at Jaden, who was smirking, triumphant. "Okay," I said. I walked over to Jaden. She puffed out her chest, waiting for the apology. I reached out and snatched the phone from her hand. "Hey!" she yelled. I looked at Connor one last time. "You failed," I whispered. I ended the call. Then, without breaking eye contact with Jaden, I dropped the phone into a pot of boiling pasta water. Jaden screamed. I turned to Austin. My voice changed. The waitress was gone. The Principessa was here. "Austin," I said. "Lock the doors."