SIX

Kayla was busy baking in the kitchen. She was the only one alone in the kitchen, her favorite coworkers, Lucas and Alessandro were not around making her alone with Madeline, the one who always bullies her. Today's pastries were simple and easy to make so Kayla got to work immediately.

Kayla concentrated on kneading the dough, her hands moving skillfully as she toiled in quiet. The inviting aroma of butter and vanilla permeated the air, fostering a cozy ambiance—an environment that was swiftly interrupted by Madeline's arrival.

"For once, you're actually doing something correctly," Madeline mocked, resting against the counter with her arms folded.

Kayla inwardly sighed but chose not to reply. She had realized long ago that interacting with Madeline only worsened the situation. Rather, she went on molding the dough, resolved to disregard her.

Madeline, on the other hand, was not someone to be overlooked. She approached nearer, her pointed nails clicking on the counter. "It must feel good, right?" Receiving preferential treatment solely because you're an orphan in need of charity.

Kayla paused her hands for a moment before taking a deep breath and resuming her task. She would not allow Madeline to affect her.

Yet Madeline grinned, noticing the small pause. "You believe you’re quite unique, don’t you?" Consistently behaving calm and naive. It’s really sad.

Kayla gritted her teeth but remained silent. She was aware that Lucas and Alessandro typically intervened when Madeline acted like this, but today, she was on her own.

Madeline’s gaze sparkled with malice as she seized a bag of flour and feigned examining it. "Uh-oh." She unexpectedly angled it, pouring a cloud of white powder onto Kayla.

Kayla inhaled sharply as flour dusted her hair, face, and apron. For a brief period, she was too shocked to respond.

Madeline merely chuckled, her tone crisp and laced with delight as she strolled out of the kitchen, abandoning Kayla who stood there, embarrassed and dusted with flour. The dense white powder stuck to her hair, skin, and garments, enveloping her like a spectral shroud. Kayla could still hear Madeline’s derisive laughter resonating in her ears, yet she wouldn’t allow the sharpness of humiliation to affect her.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to shake off the small amount of flour from her apron, but it was futile—the flour had embedded itself into every fiber of her uniform. Recognizing she required a more effective option, she rushed to the employee washroom.

Inside, the compact, poorly lit area had the scent of lemon cleaner and soap. Kayla activated the faucet, allowing the cool water to stream over a napkin before softly patting her face. The damp fabric collected the flour bit by bit, exposing her rosy cheeks beneath. She let out a sigh, massaging the bridge of her nose.

Why does she consistently act this way?

This wasn’t the first instance of Madeline targeting her, and it probably wouldn’t be the final one. However, Kayla was too exhausted today to allow it to spoil her mood. She had a shift to complete, and if she wanted to retain her job, she could not afford to squander any more time.

After several minutes of scrubbing, she ultimately succeeded in removing the majority of it. Her image in the mirror still appeared a bit disheveled—her brown curls wet from the water, some strands sticking to her forehead—but at least she didn’t seem like she had just emerged from a flour storm.

After taking another calming breath, she adjusted her apron and headed back to the kitchen.

The comforting aroma of butter and sugar welcomed her as she entered, alleviating some of the residual irritation in her heart. Her station remained exactly as she had left it—flour-dusted surface, rolling pin, and an incomplete tray of croissants awaiting her gentle touch.

Concentrating on her task, she took the dough and started to roll it out once more, her hands operating with skilled accuracy. The gentle, flexible feel under her fingers was calming, anchoring her in the here and now. As she molded each croissant, her thoughts drifted to the three men who had filled her mind throughout the day.

The King brothers.

Her professors.

They were different from anyone she had encountered before—authoritative, fervent, and nearly disturbingly fearsome. However, in contrast to their cold images, they had shown her kindness today.

Kayla remembered how they had all instructed her earlier in the office, leading her through the lesson with a patience she hadn’t anticipated from guys like them. Their presence was intense, but not negatively. Indeed, for reasons she couldn't fully articulate, she had a sense of security around them.

And then there was Alistair King.

The person who allowed her to relax in his office.

She remained uncertain about his reasons for doing it, yet the warmth of that instance stayed in her heart, enveloping her like a gentle hug.

She shook her head and redirected her attention to her tasks.

The delightful scent of newly baked croissants, tarts, and pastries wafted through the air while Kayla meticulously organized the treats in the glass showcase. The cozy, buttery aroma enveloped her like a reassuring hug, briefly allowing her to overlook the previous embarrassment she experienced at Madeline's hands.

She cleaned her flour-covered hands on her apron, straightening the orderly rows of pastries to ensure they appeared as flawless as possible. Customers were attracted by both flavor and appearance, and she felt proud of her craft.

As she completed putting down the final tray, the small bell above the entrance rang.

As soon as she glanced upward, her breath halted in her throat.

The King brothers had come.

Alistair, Victor, and Elliot entered the bakery with a commanding presence that caused the entire space to seem tighter. Clad in dark suits, they exuded authority, naturally attracting attention. Their angular faces and icy looks sent a chill through the air, their very presence sufficient to create a tense atmosphere.

Madeline, who had been propped against the counter appearing uninterested, abruptly stood upright, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she put on an enchanting grin.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she said softly, walking nearer with a swing in her hips.

Kayla sensed a knot forming in her stomach. She had witnessed this in the past—Madeline adulating influential men, eager to attract their notice.

Victor hardly gave her a look, his eyes fixed on Kayla instead. "Evening," he whispered, though it was evident he wasn’t speaking to Madeline.

Elliot paid no attention to Madeline at all, his gaze wandering around the bakery until it landed on Kayla. He raised an eyebrow. "You have been occupied."

Kayla, taken by surprise, looked at the pastries. "Uh... yeah." "I have just completed."

Madeline scowled, her grin wavering as she noticed they were ignoring her completely. She moved nearer, her tone becoming insincerely sweet. "Are you interested in trying something?" "I can individually endorse the—"

"Let’s consult Kayla," Alistair cut in, his voice sharp. His deep-set eyes locked onto Kayla’s, causing her to swallow anxiously. "What’s great today?"

Kayla paused, looking at Madeline, who now appeared ready to kill her right there. Maintaining her voice as calm as she could, she replied, "The croissants have just come out of the oven." "They're airy and tender."

Victor grinned slyly. "Next, we will choose three."

"I'm on it," she whispered gently, stepping to fetch the pastries. Her hands remained steady as she set them on a small plate, yet her heart was far from tranquil.

At last, the bakery returned to silence. Kayla exhaled softly, urging her heart to calm as she observed the King brothers vanish through the glass door. The tension they introduced hung in the atmosphere, dense and oppressive, yet there was additionally something more—a peculiar feeling of warmth.

They overlooked Madeline.

Totally.

That by itself should have made Kayla feel victorious, but it didn’t. Rather, it disturbed her. She had never wished for their attention, but they fixated on her with a level of intensity that felt nearly overwhelming.

She shook her head, pushing the thoughts away as she returned to the kitchen. There remained tasks to complete.

As soon as she crossed the threshold, she felt the presence behind her. Before she had a chance to respond, pointy claws pierced her arm.

Kayla inhaled sharply, a soft whine escaping her mouth as she turned a bit, her eyes meeting Madeline’s fierce stare.

“You're a total fraud,” Madeline fumed, her fingers gripping harder, creating severe marks on Kayla's skin. “Pretending to be miserable just to attract their notice.”

Agony shot through Kayla’s arm, yet she bit her lip, determined not to give Madeline the pleasure of witnessing her flinch. Instead, she compelled herself to look into the other woman’s eyes, attempting to maintain a calm tone.

“I—I have no idea what you mean.”

Madeline rolled her eyes, a grim look spreading across her face. "Oh, don’t act clueless, Kayla." “Do you believe I didn’t notice it?” She moved in nearer, her breath warm on Kayla’s cheek. "The way they gazed at you." The manner in which they overlooked me. Kayla recoiled when Madeline’s nails dug in further, yet she remained silent. What could she possibly express? She hadn’t acted in any way to catch the King brothers’ interest. She did not desire it.

Madeline’s lips twisted into a scornful smile. "They will not ever show interest in you." So don’t wander about with your head in the clouds, believing you’re someone extraordinary.”

Kayla felt a constriction in her throat, yet she remained silent.

After a brief pause, Madeline pushed her away forcefully, retreating with an expression of victory. "You mean nothing, Kayla." "Simply a stray that someone chose to feel compassion for."

With that, she pivoted on her heel and marched out of the kitchen.

Kayla gulped nervously, the ache on her arm throbbing with each heartbeat. Gradually, she gazed downward, her eyes expanding at the view of the dark, crimson imprints left by Madeline's nails.

They were more than mere indentations.

A few of them were bleeding.

She breathed out unsteadily, putting her fingers on the injuries. She could tidy it up later once she reached her room. There's no reason to waste time at this moment.

Enhancing her posture, she compelled herself to dismiss the persistent ache of Madeline’s remarks.

They ought not to have caused pain.

However, they did.

Because beneath the surface, a part of her questioned whether they were real.

Drawing in a deep breath, she faced the counter again and continued her tasks, allowing the comforting aroma of butter and vanilla to envelop her like a delicate barrier.

It wasn’t a lot.

However, it was sufficient to motivate her to continue.

At this moment