Chapter 3

"What the f*ck are you doing?!"

"Oh, f*ck you, sir!" I shrieked in shock when a thunderous voice boomed behind me. It reverberated through the kitchen walls. It felt like an earthquake because of how loud his voice was.

I was so startled that, in my attempt to clutch my chest, I almost dropped the plate in my hands. Fortunately, I caught it just in time—otherwise, I would’ve been in trouble again.

I turned around only to see a scowling Jackson Samaniego standing at the kitchen door. His face was flushed red, and he was panting. His massive physique almost filled the entire doorway, making him look larger than life. With his towering height and menacing expression, he was truly terrifying—like a raging beast ready to devour its breakfast. And unfortunately, I was that breakfast.

But instead of being scared of his fierce expression, I couldn’t help but let my eyes roam over his bare upper body. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the only thing covering his lower half was a thin pair of boxer shorts. Yes, thin—because his jumbo banana was very visible.

I swallowed hard, unable to take my eyes off the bulge between his legs. So, bananas really do come in that size—jumbo, indeed. Or maybe even bigger than jumbo.

I suddenly felt the urge to make the sign of the cross. My mind was filthy. I wasn’t like this before!

"Who the f*ck told you that you can enter my house, woman?" His brows furrowed even deeper. It seemed like he didn’t appreciate me checking out his body—or staring at his jumbo banana.

That was when embarrassment finally hit me. I realized I had been staring at Sir Jax’s bulge the entire time. Heat spread across my face.

How humiliating!

I cleared my throat and forced a smile. It was hard, though—he was furious that I was messing with his kitchen, but honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to be scared because what was laid out in front of me was far more tempting than what I was cooking.

"A-h, sir. I apologize. Miss Cindy asked me to bring those important papers for you to sign. They're on your coffee table," I said formally. But my eyes? They were completely disobedient—now, they were fixated on Sir Jax’s abs.

"Who the f*ck told you to intrude on my wife’s kitchen?" His voice was now low and hoarse. It made me even more nervous because it seemed like he was barely holding back his anger.

I winced at his words.

I'm so dead.

Why did I even think of cooking for him?

I instinctively stepped back when he took a single stride toward me and roughly grabbed my arm. I winced in pain—his grip was tight. He started dragging me out of the kitchen and threw me aside, making me stumble.

Thankfully, I caught myself before my face could kiss the floor.

I rubbed my aching arm. That hurt!

This old bastard is so rude!

"No one messes with my wife’s kitchen, woman. Get. The. F*ck. Out!" he shouted in my face.

I panicked at the sheer volume of his voice.

I didn't waste another second and quickly left the kitchen. It was only then that I realized the huge mistake I had made. I wanted to punch myself for being so insensitive.

Turns out, the kitchen was important to him. Maybe it was his wife's favorite part of the house. Maybe he didn’t want anyone else touching it because it reminded him of her.

Why did I even mess with his things? I knew he couldn’t stand me, yet I still meddled. And now, I almost ended up making out with the floor.

I clutched my chest, my heart pounding wildly. I was still catching my breath.

I stepped outside through the door leading to the swimming pool. It was a French door, making it easy to see if someone was approaching from the inside. I remained standing near the door, waiting for Sir Jax to return. After pushing me earlier, he had suddenly disappeared.

I could see the anger in his eyes earlier when he caught me touching his wife's things.

Did he love his late wife that much that he even treasured her memories like that? He must have really loved her.

Not long after, Sir Jax returned. He was now wearing a shirt. He had also taken a shower, but the scowl on his face remained. He glared at me through the closed French door.

I stayed standing outside and made no move to enter. Better to keep my distance. I still hadn’t forgotten the time he threw a paperweight at me in his office.

Sir Jax closed his eyes and leaned back against the cushioned seat. He massaged his temples, as if he had a headache.

I suddenly felt guilty—had I just made his headache worse?

Looking at him now, it was obvious that he was carrying a heavy burden. Maybe he still hadn’t accepted his wife’s passing.

Honestly, who could? Losing a spouse like that would be unbearable.

I peeked at him again through the slightly open door. His eyes were still closed. His jaw was covered in a thick beard and mustache. Maybe he didn’t shave anymore.

Sir Jax was incredibly handsome. If I were to compare, he was even more attractive than his cousin, Sir Chris. The way his brows furrowed as if he hated everything around him, or the way his voice deepened when he was angry—it was such a turn-on. He was the kind of man who became even more appealing when mad.

Too bad I was always the target of his anger.

My brows furrowed when I caught a strange scent. I sniffed the air to be sure.

Why does it smell… burnt?

"What’s that smell?" I muttered to myself.

I turned to Sir Jax, who also seemed confused. He was staring at me with a questioning look.

I found myself staring back at him.

"What the f*ck is that smell?!" he suddenly shouted.

Panic gripped me as a terrible realization hit me.

"Ahh, sir… I think something’s burning," I stammered, my voice shaking.

My eyes widened in horror when it finally dawned on me.

I forgot to turn off the gas stove!

The food I was cooking is on fire!

"Oh my god! My cooking!" I screamed in panic.

I didn’t waste a second and bolted back into the kitchen, only to be greeted by thick, black smoke.

"Shit!"

I heard Sir Jax curse behind me. When I turned around, I saw him staring at the kitchen with a mix of shock and devastation.

His expression was unreadable. He looked both angry and hurt.

He just stood there, watching the kitchen as if he didn’t know what to do.

At that moment, I understood.

That kitchen was truly special to him.

The hurt in his eyes was evident. He looked like a helpless child watching his most precious treasure be destroyed—powerless to stop it.

Without hesitation, he rushed into the smoke-filled kitchen. I followed him inside and saw him desperately trying to put out the fire that was slowly devouring his late wife’s kitchen.

I coughed as I inhaled the smoke. It burned my lungs, and my eyes stung.

"F*ck! No! Please, no!"

But when I saw Sir Jax crying while fighting the flames, my heart shattered for him.

This man was in pain.

And he had been enduring it alone ever since his wife passed away.

Now, I finally understood why he was so cruel.

He was just trying to conceal his pain by inflicting it on others.

It wasn’t fair.

But maybe…

That was the only way he knew how to cope with the loneliness.

Because at the end of the day…

He was just a man with a broken heart.