Black Cake Novels & Stories

"It's ready!" Let the torture begin. ⸻ ❝ ❞ ⸻ "What flavor did you say this cake was, Mary?" Uncle Mark asks, puzzled. "Chocolate," Aunt Mary replies, beaming with pride. "White chocolate?" Dad asks. Mary looks at him confused. "No, it's dark chocolate." Jace looks at her, puzzled. "But the cake is white," he murmurs. "Um, Aunt Mary? Are you sure you put in the chocolate?" I ask her.

She also managed to handle her emotions well and felt much better in the end. I had to cheer her up, though. I wanted to hear her laugh and joke around again. I wanted to overload her with sweetness and happiness. Speaking of sweetness, she did have a sweet tooth, and cakes were her thing. Maybe a cake would cheer her up completely. I washed my face outside and went to the main kitchen, where the chefs prepared food when we were eating together. I was lucky enough to get a cake from them. It was a really special black forest cake, baked with love. I thought birthday candles would add to the moment, so I got some.

Raina asked, her eyes lighting up as she practically bounced on the mattress. "I did," Nathan said with absolute corporate seriousness. He set the clipboard down and opened the bakery box, revealing four beautifully sculpted miniature cakes. "The pastry chef from Upper East Bakers sent over the prototypes for the... monster cake." "It’s a dragon!" Raina corrected loudly, pointing at a tiny green frosting wing. "A chocolate dragon!"

Everyone, especially the girls, held their breath, waiting for Kevin to say yes. Kevin let out a sigh in defeat and muttered, "Only for you." "Yes!" Everyone cheered. A big smile formed in the corner of my lips. Zayra immediately called the waiters to bring the birthday cake. I was awestruck when I saw how lavish the cake looked. It was a cake with two layers. One part was made of the color black, and the other was red. The combination of black and red looked amazing. I saw the line written on the cake.

“Only as much as you deserve.” I padded barefoot into the kitchen, tying my apron as I went. I didn’t shower first, this would take a while and I needed to do it now that I still had the energy. Alfred had already laid out the necessary ingredients—flour, sugar, butter, eggs. I glanced at the order sheet again: a three-tier chocolate cake for a 10-year-old named Olivia. Her mom wanted butterflies and gold dust, I had told her I’d make it myself, and I was determined to make it magical.

“I wasn’t expecting so many people. I assumed there would only be about fifteen.” Max scoffs, “Again, you assumed something and proved you cannot be trusted. You’re a stupid whore, you know that? You have no idea how embarrassed I am to be married to someone so pathetic. And what’s the deal with that cake? Why does it look like an amateur made it?” “Because you didn’t want me to get a baker, so I made it,” I explained. “It’s hideous,” Max says. “What flavor is it?” “It’s lemon with a raspberry filling. The icing has a little raspberry in it, that’s why it’s pink. I used white frosting to add embellishments.”

“Will you come with me?” There was a long pause. Then he nodded, his voice soft. “Alright.” Zack pulled the car around. As we drove, Kane wore a low cap and a mask, clearly uncomfortable being in public. I slipped on a mask too, and we slipped into the mall without drawing attention. At the entrance, the smell of sweet cream hit me like a memory to the face. There it was. The Cake Boutique. Black Forest. The one cake I could never have. My feet stopped before I realized it, eyes locked on the glass display. There it sat—rich chocolate, creamy layers, glossy cherries on top.

Or bourbon. For a second, my exhausted brain tried to dismiss it entirely. I told myself it was just the wedding cake, that the pastry chef must be putting the finishing touches on the display using a heavy dose of almond extract. But the wedding cake was vanilla bourbon with blackberry compote. There wasn't a single drop of almond anywhere on the menu. The smell got stronger. Another wave of the scent curled through the air, and this time, something inside me went completely cold. It wasn't sweet baker’s almond.

he called, sounding both worried and a little angry. I turned my face a bit, as I didn't feel like chatting with anyone, especially not with one I didn't like much. But he didn’t care. “I got you something,” he said, taking a deep breath and holding out a small white box wrapped up with a thin blue ribbon. I frowned. “What is that?” He smiled and lifted the lid, letting me get a good look at what was inside. For me, nothing beats raspberry vanilla cake. From Petra’s Bakery. You could hardly find any these days. Sold out before noon. Only made twice a week. Confusion made me stare at it, with a lot of emotions inside me.

“Don’t worry. I don’t mind helping you in helping me!” “Thanks,” he answered on the same note. “What are you preparing anyway?” “A black forest.” “Huh? You’re cooking a forest?!” he asked frowning at her confused. “Nope silly! It’s a sort of chocolate cake,” Rachel answered laughingly pushing him out of her way as she battered the eggs. “Yuck! I hate chocolate!” he replied childishly. Rachel was shocked. “Nobody hates chocolate. It’s the best thing mankind has ever invented,” she replied passionately herself a chocolate addict.