Chapter 575 relationship
Oliver gave Natalie a surprised look, "You drink?"
They had been married a year, and he rarely saw her drink.
Natalie hummed in affirmation. “It's just a drink; who's judging?”
"Two pints," Oliver told the server.
"Right away, Mr. Windsor!"
A pint of beer is equivalent to about 16 ounces—or one bottle of beer.
Before long, the server brought over two pints of ice-cold beer, foam capped atop each glass.
"Ice-cold?" Feeling the chill of the glass and furrowing his brow, Oliver instructed the server before Natalie could take a sip, he instructed the server, "Get her one at room temperature."
Natalie wasn't having it, clutching her glass defiantly, "With grilled meat, you gotta have an ice-cold beer. I'm not switching!"
Jeez, she's quite the stickler for tradition.
Oliver looked at her expressionlessly, "Natalie, it's not good to drink cold beer so quickly."
Natalie opened her mouth to retort, but at the last second softened her response, "I don't drink often and summer is here anyway."
Natalie rarely countered him, and Oliver couldn't bear to deny her this one pleasure, so he waved the server away.
Satisfied, Natalie took a sip of the beer, feeling the ice-cold liquid slide down her throat—a sheer delight.
"Wow, nice knife skills!"
Natalie was genuinely impressed watching Oliver skillfully carve the roasted lamb leg.
With each precise and rapid slice, Oliver carved the lamb with a rhythm that left every piece evenly thick. However, it was evident he wasn't fully familiar with the grain of the meat; he didn't seem to prioritize cutting along the muscle fibers.
A proud smirk curled the corners of Oliver's mouth as Natalie eyed his knife skills, a hint of admiration in her gaze.
"How come you're so good at this when you don't even cook?" Natalie asked, puzzled.
"Being good at slicing isn't necessarily about cooking," Oliver replied, his hands continuing their work without pause.
"Then what's it for?"
As Oliver was about to finish with one plate, Natalie slid another empty one toward him, gesturing for him to keep going. In his mind, one plate was enough for two people; they could always cut more if needed. But seeing Natalie so enthusiastically watching his knife work, he figured he could go along with it... for a little while, at least.
"Well, the difference between slicing animal meat and human flesh isn't that big. I've practiced on... people."
Before Oliver could even finish, the sound of Natalie's phone clattering to the floor cut through the air. She stared at him, her expression a mix of shock and a tinge of fear.
"You, you...you..."
"Did you believe that?" Oliver's deep chuckle bubbled up as he tried to hold back laughter, his shoulders shaking so much that he had to stop cutting for a moment.
"Oliver!" Realizing she'd been duped, Natalie wanted to throw something at him out of frustration. But glancing at the seasoning, her phone, and the plate of lamb, she decided against it. She chalked it up to his lucky day and let it slide.
With a playful grin at Natalie's annoyed expression, Oliver feigned innocence. "I've told you before, I'm a law-abiding citizen. Why would I get into murder and mutilation?" He wasn't the type—an outlaw like Roger Wild.
"A good citizen?" Natalie rolled her eyes with disbelief. "Yeah, right!"
It looked more like he was toeing the line of criminal activity to her.
Oliver neither confirmed nor denied.
If he hadn't met Natalie, his brush with law-abiding life might have been minimal. A person with nothing to lose in this world can easily veer into extreme actions, living recklessly without regard for life or death.
But now, with Natalie in his life, in love with Natalie, he wanted the title "Mr. Windsor" to stand for honor, not just wealth.
"But you still haven't told me why you're so skilled with that knife," Natalie remembered her original question.
"Just bored, so I played around with it for a while," he answered nonchalantly.
"That's your idea of playing around?" Natalie shook her head, unable to comprehend the interests of a genius.
Oliver's mind wandered back to the days he spent honing his meat slicing skills—times shadowed by the aftermath of a car accident that had left him blind for several months and temporarily deprived his hands of sensation. Slicing meat had been a way to regain dexterity in his fingers and strength in his wrists.
Finishing another dish of roasted lamb, he handed it to Natalie, who arranged it neatly on the plate.
He was about to comment that since it was just for their consumption, plating didn't matter, when he saw Natalie rise and whisper something to the server, casually passing the freshly cut meat to them.
Next, Oliver noticed the server approaching Lucas and Lilian, placing the meat before them and gesturing towards where he and Natalie sat.
From a distance, Lilian's radiant smile and thankful gesture were unmistakably directed at him.
Oliver was speechless.
"Natalie," Oliver said with a glare that could freeze lava as she returned.
"Natalie sat down, well aware of his possessiveness and protective nature over food. "We can't possibly finish such a large roast by ourselves," she remarked.
"Is this really about whether we can finish it?"
"What is it about, then?"
It's that I cut it for you!
Swallowing his frustration, Oliver retorted, "Even if I can't finish, I won't let anyone else have it."
Natalie sighed. "Are you a kid, Mr. Windsor? Your niece, isn't even three and she knows how to share, you know?"
After wiping her hands and the carving knife with a warm towel, she grabbed an empty plate and started slicing herself. "How about I slice a serving for Mr. Windsor? It'll certainly be better than your cuts."
Oliver let out a snort but didn't reject the offer.
Natalie’s slicing was less skillful and slower than Oliver's, but she had an understanding of the meat's grain—knowing which parts should be cut horizontally or vertically, and whether it was tastier to mix the sinew with the meat or to enjoy the meat on its own.
Oliver sat back, legs crossed, watching Natalie intently.
She was absorbed in her task, firelight flickering across her delicate, slightly flushed face, black pupils reflecting tiny sparks, a sight so captivating it felt wrong to interrupt.
Of course, the two servings of roasted lamb Natalie had brought didn’t only satisfy Lucas and Lilian; Barrett and others had craftily snagged a few pieces, praising its deliciousness and coaxing Lilian into asking Natalie for more—two servings wouldn’t do; they’d need at least three.
Lilian looked troubled as she cast a pleading glance toward Lucas. Lucas would usually be quick to help Lilian, but things were different now. Her ex-brother-in-law, Oliver, was presently "occupying" Lucas's sister's attention, and honestly, any distraction would be a welcome one.
From a distance, Oliver noticed Lilian approaching. He seized the opportunity to covertly signal a guard in the shadows while Natalie was distracted.
Before Lilian could get close, a guard clad in black stopped her, "Miss Lilian, Mr. Windsor is currently engaged in a conversation with his wife."
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