Chapter 344

"Oliver, let's go see a movie." Isabella Langley clung to Oliver Valrose's arm, her cheeks flushing pink.

Sophia Roland watched their retreating figures with an amused smile. "It seems Isabella is serious this time."

"Father, Mother, have you investigated Oliver's background?" Evelyn Roland suddenly set down her teacup.

Edward Roland waved a dismissive hand. "Young love shouldn't be interfered with. Oliver has impeccable manners, and Isabella clearly adores him..."

"Is that so?" Evelyn's lips curved into a knowing smirk.

"Your sister is getting married, yet your two brothers remain single." Sophia's gaze drifted unconsciously toward Bianca Savigny, who was peeling an orange.

The aroma wafting from the kitchen made Bianca fidget. She stole a glance toward the bustling direction, her fingers absently tracing the fruit plate's edge.

"Go ahead if you want." Evelyn didn't even look up.

"That's unacceptable!" Sophia protested immediately. "We can't have guests working in the kitchen."

"She becomes immobile when she smells cooking oil." Evelyn shook her head in resignation.

Bianca was already on her feet, eyes sparkling. "Uncle, Aunt, I truly love cooking!"

With permission granted, Bianca fluttered into the kitchen like a delighted songbird. The startled staff nearly knocked over spice bottles.

"What may we prepare for you, Miss Savigny?" The butler hurried forward.

"I'd like to help with some dishes." Bianca rolled up her sleeves, revealing slender wrists.

The staff exchanged uncertain glances. Finally, the head chef relented. "You may assist with plating, but please don't touch any knives."

Bianca nodded obediently, yet secretly pocketed a carving knife from the cutting board when turning away.

When the first radish blossom unfurled from her fingertips, the kitchen fell silent. The head chef gaped as the petite girl's blade flashed, transforming a carrot into a blooming rose.

"Well, well. A new kitchen assistant?"

The unexpected male voice made Bianca's hand slip, the blade grazing her fingertip. She whirled around indignantly to meet a pair of amused eyes.

A man leaned against the doorframe, his shirt collar carelessly open, his gaze roaming over her. "This isn't a playground for little girls, shortstack."

Bianca slammed the knife onto the cutting board. "Who are you calling shortstack?"

"Feisty." The man arched an eyebrow as he approached. "Do you even know who I am, pipsqueak?"

The kitchen's temperature seemed to plummet instantly.