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Chapter 3: The Taste Of Something New
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2025-07-26 23:44:02The next day, Amara stood in front of Terra e Fiamma again, this time in a simple but fitted blouse and clean jeans, not her usual catering blacks, and not her “mom at the supermarket” look either. She wasn’t sure who she was dressing for: herself… or Luca.
Inside, the restaurant was a hive of activity. The long table was covered with samples, small, pristine dishes that looked too beautiful to eat. Truffle-dusted risotto, handmade pasta coiled like golden thread, and fresh burrata oozing beside heirloom tomatoes. The aroma was divine.
Luca spotted her from across the room and waved her over with a half-smile that made her heart skip. He was in chef whites this time, sleeves rolled again, arms dusted in flour and herbs. Effortlessly magnetic.
“You came,” he said, stepping toward her. “And with your own fork, I assume?”
Amara pulled a silver fork from her bag with a dramatic flourish. “Never leave home without it.”
He laughed. “Good. Let’s put it to work.”
He guided her to a small table set slightly apart from the others. Several of his staff, mostly young, stylish, and clearly professionals, watched her with curiosity as she took her seat.
“This isn’t a formal tasting,” Luca said, sliding a small plate of lemon-infused scallops toward her. “I just want to know what hits, what misses, and if anything makes your soul sing.”
Amara raised an eyebrow. “My soul? That’s high praise for shellfish.”
“Trust me,” he said, folding his arms, “food can change lives.”
She took a bite. The scallop melted on her tongue, tender and citrus-bright. “Okay… this one could maybe fix my credit score.”
Luca chuckled. “That good?”
She nodded, savoring. “It’s like summer and confidence and a hug from someone who smells expensive.”
His expression lit up, delighted. “That is the best food review I’ve ever heard.”
They continued through six courses, Amara giving honest reactions, sometimes praise, sometimes critique. She didn’t pretend to be a food critic, but Luca didn’t want that. He wanted real. And she gave it.
“Okay,” she said, pointing to a wild mushroom ravioli. “This one is… confusing.”
“How so?”
“It tastes amazing, but the texture is weird. Like the mushrooms are too chewy. It’s like kissing a man who looks great in photos but talks about himself in third person.”
Luca burst out laughing, startling a few of the sous chefs.
“I swear,” he said, still chuckling, “if I ever get a second Michelin star for this place, it’ll be because of that analogy.”
They moved to dessert, where a silky tiramisu stole her breath. Amara leaned back, closing her eyes as she savored it.
“You okay?” Luca asked.
“I need a minute,” she said. “I think I’m in love.”
“With the dessert?”
“…Yes. Definitely the dessert.”
But when she opened her eyes, Luca was already watching her, not with amusement, but with something quieter. Warmer.
“Can I ask you something personal?” he said after a moment.
“You mean besides what kind of chocolate I hide from my kid so I don’t have to share?”
He smiled. “Noah, right?”
She blinked. “How do you know his name?”
“I asked Rosie. She says he’s got your energy and better table manners.”
Amara grinned. “He’s a character.”
“You’re doing it alone?”
She nodded, instinctively bracing. Most men tensed up or tiptoed away once she mentioned single motherhood.
But Luca didn’t flinch. “That’s impressive.”
She tilted her head. “That’s it? No unsolicited advice or pity?”
“I was raised by a single mom,” he said. “She ran a bakery in Naples. Taught me everything—about food, discipline, loyalty. I owe her everything.”
The air shifted again. Amara felt the walls around her soften. He wasn’t just a billionaire chef. He was someone who got it. Who knew the sleepless nights, the worry, the quiet strength it took to show up every day and hold everything together.
Before she could respond, one of the kitchen staff rushed over.
“Chef, the vendors just delivered frozen sea bass instead of fresh.”
Luca sighed. “Excuse me.”
He walked off, already barking orders in fluent Italian, the commanding force of him reemerging like a tidal wave.
Amara watched him for a beat, her heart tugging in two directions. She wasn’t supposed to be here, not like this, laughing with him, tasting food, feeling seen. Her life was about structure and survival.
But around Luca?
It felt like something was blooming, slowly, carefully, but insistently.
Something warm.
Something dangerous.
Something real.
Bab terbaru
Whisked Away Chapter 159: A Legacy of Light
The years that followed Ethan’s final defeat unfolded not in drama, but in a quieter, steadier rhythm that Amara sometimes found miraculous.It was in the little things, the way Noah no longer flinched when strangers recognized her in public, the way her heart no longer raced when she saw a breaking-news alert flash across her phone.Life became, at last, ordinary. And in that ordinariness, Amara discovered a peace she had once thought unreachable.Noah grew into a young man before her eyes, lanky limbs giving way to broad shoulders, his boyish grin tempered with thoughtfulness. He was fifteen when he stood behind the counter at La Stella, learning how to fold dough under Luca’s patient guidance.“You don’t rush the dough,” Luca told him one afternoon, his hands strong but gentle as he kneaded. “You work with it. Feel it. Food has memory. It knows if you’re impatient.”Noah rolled his eyes, but Amara saw the corner of his mouth twitch in a smile.Later that night, when she peeked into
Whisked Away Chapter 158: The Last Ghost of the Past
The past, Amara had learned, never died cleanly.Even after Ethan’s conviction and sentencing, even after five years of slow healing, his name still had the power to snake its way into headlines. Every time another powerful man faced accusations, the media dredged up Ethan’s trial, reprinting old photographs of Amara leaving the courthouse, her face pale but unbroken, her hand in Luca’s.Sometimes the stories framed her as a heroine. Sometimes they questioned her motives. Always, she was there again, a reluctant shadow in the narrative.One spring morning, Amara woke to find Luca already in the kitchen, the smell of espresso curling through the air. He was standing at the counter, his brow furrowed as he scrolled through something on his tablet.“What is it?” Amara asked, tying her robe around her waist.Luca hesitated. Then he turned the screen toward her.The headline blared:“Ethan Files Appeal: Claims Evidence Was Mishandled, Seeks New Trial.”Amara’s stomach dropped.For a moment
Whisked Away Chapter 157:Ripples Across the World
The ripple began quietly, like the widening circles of a stone dropped into still water.At first, it was Amara’s memoir. Then her TED talk. Then she wrote during a national debate about power and accountability. Each time, she thought her words would make a small dent, spark a handful of conversations, and each time, the response startled her. Letters poured in. Invitations arrived from universities, foundations, and even the United Nations.Amara had never sought to become a figurehead. She still flushed uncomfortably at the word “activist.” She was, in her heart, just a writer who had once survived something unbearable and chosen not to stay silent. But the world, it seemed, had crowned her with a different mantle.One autumn evening, she found herself seated in a vast, chandelier-lit hall in Geneva. She was scheduled to speak at a global summit on justice and reform. Around her sat heads of state, diplomats, and activists who had spent their lives at the forefront of change.She s
Whisked Away Chapter 156: A Life Rebuilt
Three years had passed since the storm broke.Not the kind of storm that rattled windowpanes or flooded streets, but the one that cracked lives open, laying bare every fragile seam. In the wake of Ethan’s downfall, the media circus had eventually quieted, scandals had been archived, and the city had moved on to fresher headlines. But for Amara, Luca, and Noah, the years since had been less about moving on and more about stitching themselves into a fabric that was stronger than what had existed before.Brooklyn smelled different in the mornings now. Or maybe Amara smelled it differently. Gone were the mornings of waking with her heart hammering against her ribs, ears trained for the echo of threats that had once haunted their every corner. Now she woke to the hum of ordinary life, the hiss of the coffee maker, the faint laughter of children heading to school, the creak of Luca’s footsteps in the hallway.Their brownstone wasn’t grand, but it was theirs. A place purchased not for status
Whisked Away Chapter 155:Dawn After the Storm
The city woke to headlines that would ripple through the world:“ETHAN INDICTED: MASSIVE FRAUD & CORRUPTION EXPOSED.”“SURVIVORS SPEAK OUT – THE NETWORK THAT BROUGHT HIM DOWN.”It wasn’t one story, or one leak, or one voice that shattered him. It was all of them together, woven into an undeniable tapestry of truth. Amara’s speech had lit the first spark, but the coalition she and Luca built fanned it into wildfire.Ethan had fought viciously until the end,smear campaigns, bribes, shadow threats,but the final blow came from his own people. Whistleblowers he thought were too afraid to speak had chosen courage over silence. In court, their testimonies rang like church bells tolling the end of an era.By the time the judge announced bail denied, Ethan was no longer the untouchable billionaire. He was just a man stripped of power, his empire crumbling into dust.When the cameras turned to Amara on the courthouse steps, her knees nearly buckled.“Do you have anything to say, Ms. Amara?” rep
Whisked Away Chapter 154: The Gathering Storm
The photograph burned in Amara’s hand long after Luca tore it away.Even after he had stormed into the living room, pacing like a caged predator, she could still feel the weight of the threat pressed into her palm.Her hands trembled as she tucked Noah into bed, smoothing his hair with shaking fingers, whispering a lullaby through her tears. He was too young to understand why her arms clung to him longer that night, why her lips pressed against his forehead like a promise she was terrified of breaking.When she returned downstairs, Luca was still pacing, fists clenched, the photo on the coffee table. The air between them vibrated with unspoken terror.“This isn’t just about you anymore,” Luca said, his voice a low growl. “He’s crossed a line. Threatening your son—” He stopped, biting down so hard his jaw ached. “I won’t allow it.”Amara sank onto the sofa, pulling her knees close, her voice breaking.“I knew he’d come after me. I knew he’d try to tear apart my story, ruin my name. But
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