I WANT YOU

CHAPTER 1

"Take off your apron, Miss Beaumont, your contract has been terminated."

The kitchen went silent.

Aria froze, her chest tightening, but she forced her expression to stay calm. She expected this, the moment she reported the head chef for sexually assaulting one of the assistants.

She looked back at the chef, standing with a smug smile like he'd won something. Aria could not just leave. She knew for sure that he was making sexual advances towards the kitchen assistant.

"Why am I getting fired when that man is the one going against company rules, huh? I swear, I saw him!" Aria demanded.

The chef stepped closer to her, not even hiding his smirk.

"Where is the woman I 'assaulted'? She denied it, so what's your problem? You must think you're a real chef because of your family, but you don't even come close. You were just hired for PR. The daughter of the Great Critic; Edmund Beaumont is working in our kitchen. That story increased our sales so much. It's time for you to leave now, Aria. Nobody wants you here."

Aria looked around. The other cooks avoided her eyes, some even smiling as if her firing brought them relief.

It stung.

More than she wanted to admit.

She bit her lip, swallowed her pride, and yanked off her apron, dropping it to the floor.

"Fine, I'll leave. But be prepared for your sales to go down. You'll need more than your lacking skills to save this restaurant."

She lifted her bag and walked out of the restaurant with her head high, even though her chest felt heavy.

As soon as she got into her car, her phone rang.

Her father.

Aria scoffed and answered. “Nothing in this industry gets past you, does it?”

“It can be like that for you too,” Edmund replied calmly. “But you chose to work as a mere kitchen assistant. I’ve been holding off my review of that restaurant because you were there. Now that you’re not, I can finally publish it and end their business.”

Aria’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.

Her father.

Her curse and her shield.

Her last name was the stain she couldn’t wash off, no matter how hard she tried.

“Dad, please,” she breathed. “Don’t meddle. You’re one of the reasons I got fired. Let me handle my own problems.”

“Come home, Aria,” he said. “You should accept by now that you can’t survive without me. I will never support you being a chef. Never.”

The call ended.

Aria hit the steering wheel until her palms hurt. Tears burst out of her eyes, all the emotions she’d tried to hold back finally spilling over.

Her father, the sweet man she grew up knowing changed drastically after her mother's death. Her mother was a chef that loved cooking so much. She created recipes and spent her life in the kitchen until a fire broke out in the kitchen and killed her. Her father was never the same since then.

She cried all the way to the hotel suite she shared with her boyfriend.

She walked straight to the bar downstairs and ordered drink after drink.

“Hey, give me another bottle,” Aria slurred.

The waiter hesitated. “Miss Aria… you’ve had enough. I saw your boyfriend heading to the suite earlier. Maybe go up to him? I’ll help you to the elevator.”

Aria leaned on him. “Evan’s here? Are we going to see Evan?”

“Yes,” he said softly, guiding her into the elevator. “Go straight inside, okay?”

The elevator chimed, and Aria stepped out, a shaky smile forming at the thought of surprising her boyfriend. She walked to the room they always used, typed in the door code, and pushed it open.

Moaning.

Loud, breathless moaning.

Aria stopped.

Her heart thudded painfully.

No… I’m drunk. I’m imagining things. Maybe he’s watching a video. Maybe…

But she walked in anyway.

And her world shattered.

A blonde woman was on top of Evan, naked, riding him like she owned him. Evan held her hair with one hand, squeezing her breast with the other, his head thrown back, enjoying every bit of it.

Aria’s bag slipped from her fingers and hit the floor, making them both turn.

The blonde turned her head and Aria recognized her instantly.

The kitchen assistant she defended.

“Aria, oh my god” Evan scrambled, pushing the girl aside as he jumped off the bed.

Aria stepped back, tears blurring her sight. “Get some freaking clothes on first. I can’t… I just can’t believe this.”

The blonde didn’t look guilty. She just shrugged and rested well on the bed, not even bothering to cover her nakedness.

“We met a few times when he came to pick you up from work. We clicked.

“Shut up!” Evan barked at her.

Aria shook her head, biting her lip to stop from sobbing, then stormed out of the room. Evan was her only friend, her lover, the only person she could talk to and now, she was alone. He cheated on her

“Aria, wait, please! Just listen! I can explain.” Evan chased her.

“Stop following me, Evan. We’re done,” she said, her voice breaking as she walked faster.

“You’ll be alone without me,” he called out. “I’m the only one who loves you. You’ll come back.” He really knew he was her only confidant and was confident that she'd come back.

Aria stopped in front of a random door, chest heaving.

“I’ll never come back to you,” she whispered.

And just then, the door opened.

A man stood there, tall, broad-shouldered, sharply handsome even though he was dressed in casual tee-shirt and sweatpants. His grey eyes widened when he saw her standing there, tear-stained and shaking.

An idea sparked in Aria’s drunken mind.

She looked up at him and whispered, “Please… help me.”

Before he could react, she stepped close, stood on her toes due to the height difference and pressed her lips to his.

“Aria, are you crazy?!” Evan shouted.

Aria tugged at the stranger's shirt and he knew just what to do. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer, kissing her back — deep, firm, certain.

Aria let out a soft moan as his hand caressed her waist. Evan started marching toward them, furious, but the man didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Aria gently, pulled her into his room, and shut the door.

Their mouths never parted.

He backed her to the wall, his hands firm on her shoulders.

“That was dangerous, Miss,” he murmured, voice low and rough, the kind of tone that made heat curl in her stomach.

“I know,” Aria breathed, pulling him back into a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

She felt him, hard, restrained, fighting himself and losing.

Then she stepped back, eyes locked on his, slipped her zipper down, and let her dress fall.

“I want you,” she whispered.

And that was all he needed.