Chapter 456 Lost All Interest in Him
The moment Ashley surveyed the kitchen, she noticed something peculiar. While every other chef's station was abundantly stocked with both meat and vegetables—enough to prepare over a dozen dishes—her own station looked pathetically sparse.
"Excuse me," Ashley addressed the supervisor coldly, "I don't believe we've met before today, so I'm wondering: why does everyone else have such a variety of ingredients while I've been given... this?"
The woman snapped. "Are you cooking or not? If not, the door's right there—we have plenty of replacements waiting."
Ashley inwardly rolled her eyes. Nate had registered her for this competition; she was merely going through the motions. They were acting as if she was desperate to be here.
"Fine," she conceded. "These ingredients will suffice."
The supervisor gave her one last cold glance before walking away. Curiosity piqued, Ashley quietly followed her.
In a secluded corner, she observed the supervisor approaching an elegantly dressed woman in a voluminous designer dress, her back turned to Ashley.
"It's done as you requested, ma'am. With those limited ingredients, she doesn't stand a chance," the supervisor reported.
"Excellent. I won't allow her anywhere near His Highness Prince Totti," the woman replied.
Ashley couldn't help but smirk. So that explained the blatant sabotage—someone had orchestrated it.
Who could this mystery woman be? After a moment's consideration, Ashley decided it didn't matter. Even if Prince Totti tried her dish, he might very well reject it anyway. If he did, she'd lose her qualification and any chance of meeting His Highness—rendering her "threat" to the mystery woman nonexistent.
All she needed to do was complete her task, report back to Nate, and be done with it. The outcome was irrelevant to her.
Back in the kitchen, Ashley casually prepared a simple dish of fried rice, dicing radishes and cucumbers to mix in. The fragrant result belied its simplicity.
"I'm finished," she announced.
The supervisor labeled her dish with her name and instructed, "Follow the guard out. If you don't hear from us, consider yourself eliminated."
Ashley nodded and left the kitchen.
Behind her, the supervisor eyed her creation with contempt. "Just fried rice? Please. His Highness would never approve. All beauty, no talent."
While being escorted through the rear courtyard, Ashley spotted a row of luxury vehicles. One immediately caught her eye—the same car that had nearly hit Atticus that morning.
"Excuse me," she asked her escort, "who owns that car?"
"That belongs to His Highness Prince Totti, ma'am."
Ashley felt anger rising within her. The image of Atticus nearly being struck flashed through her mind, instantly dissolving any admiration she might have had for the prince.
Meanwhile, Ethan sat reviewing documents in his office when Ian entered.
"Your Highness, the competition dishes have arrived for your evaluation," Ian announced.
Ethan nodded, and servants wheeled in carts of visually stunning dishes that would tempt any appetite.
Yet Ethan's reaction was unexpected.
"What's that smell? Remove this immediately," he ordered, wrinkling his nose at the first set.
When presented with the second selection, he took one bite before rushing to the bathroom, overcome with nausea.
"Clear all of this away," Ian directed the staff.
Standing outside the bathroom door, Ian asked the weakened prince, "Shall we continue the testing, Your Highness?"
Ethan waved dismissively. "I'm exhausted. Take everything away."
As the servants began removing the dishes, Ethan emerged from the bathroom and caught sight of a solitary bowl of fried rice that had been set apart from the others. Something about it triggered a fleeting memory—so quick he couldn't fully grasp it. The aroma felt strangely familiar.
"Wait," he called as a servant reached for the bowl.
"Would you like to try this one, Your Highness?" Ian inquired.
Ethan nodded.
As the dish was placed before him, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. A scene materialized in his mind: a gentle voice asked, "Honey, have you had dinner?" He replied, "No, not yet." With warmth, the voice continued, "I made you some fried rice, sweetheart. Please have some."
The scene felt warmly domestic—a home shared by a couple. The man was clearly himself, but the woman's face remained frustratingly blurry. He could hear her voice but couldn't see her features.
"Your Highness?" Ian's voice broke through his reverie. "The food's getting cold. Shall I take it away?"
Ethan snapped back to reality. "No, leave it."
He lifted a spoonful to his mouth, and remarkably, experienced no adverse reaction. Instead, the flavor was delightful, prompting him to take another bite, and then another. Despite his eagerness, every movement remained refined and dignified.
Ian watched in astonishment, nearly moved to tears. "This is wonderful, Your Highness. You're actually eating!"
Ten minutes later, Ethan had finished the entire bowl yet still felt he could eat more. After waiting another fifteen minutes with no sign of his usual nausea, Ian was ecstatic.
"Quick! Find whoever made this dish," Ian instructed. "Whatever their price, pay it. We must hire them immediately."
Setting down his spoon, Ethan agreed. "Find this chef and have them prepare tonight's dinner."
Having rediscovered his appetite, Ethan was suddenly ravenous for more.
"Consider it done, Your Highness," Ian promised.
Ethan nodded and returned to his paperwork.
Back at the Grayson residence, Ashley had barely stepped through the door when her phone rang.
"Hello, is this Ms. White?" asked the caller.
"Yes, speaking."
"His Highness was extremely pleased with your cooking. We'd like to offer you a position as his personal chef. Name your price."
Ashley was surprised that a simple bowl of fried rice had passed the selection, but her response was immediate, "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested."
She ended the call.
When they called again, she hung up once more.
After the third attempt, Ashley blacklisted the number and turned off her phone.
She was fuming. The image of Prince Totti's car nearly hitting Atticus was fresh in her mind. How despicable!
She suspected his motivation wasn't about her at all, but rather male pride—seeing something he coveted in another man's possession. And to resort to such underhanded tactics against Atticus!
Back at the palace, Ian approached Ethan's office tentatively. "Your Highness..."
Without looking up from his papers, Ethan responded, "Yes?"
"She's refused our offer. We've called multiple times, but she's blacklisted our number and turned off her phone."
Ethan looked up, genuine surprise crossing his features.
"She enters a cooking competition, wins, and then rejects employment?" he mused. "What game is she playing?"
Ian could only shrug helplessly.
A cold smile formed on Ethan's lips. "Interesting. Bring me her file. I want to see exactly who this woman thinks she is."
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