The Cook Of Castamar Novels & Stories

Cast muttered under his breath. Linc didn't even look up. "You know Cast, the only two women who have ever cooked for me, besides the Omegas, of course, are my mom and Selena. And you, of all people, should know how horrible Selena's cooking is. So forgive me if I get a little excited about good food." Selena's name made everything stop. Cast scoffed. Selena. Of course, it always came back to her, didn't it? Finally, Cast spoke. "So, what's the status on everything? The texts. Selena."

Curious, I thought of visiting to see what could be going on in there. Opened the doors slowly, I walked in. The entire kitchen staff surrounded themselves, a delicious scent filled the air and suddenly the began to chant his name. I drew closer to them and I could not believe what I saw, Mariano the ruthless tyrant was dressed like a caterer and was cooking. My eyes flew wide open in disbelieve.

“Back to the couch it is.” When we finally made it back downstairs, Elliot brought me a mug of hot cocoa with a plate of toast, bacon, and eggs. My stomach became very vocal again once it smelled food in the perimeter. The food wasn’t on the plate very long as I ate it quickly. I looked around the living room again as I slowly sipped on my cocoa. My eyes landed on the mounted tv above the fireplace, which seeing the piece of technology, made my mind wander to the thought of my phone.

"I told the chef to prepare a little of everything. Wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for." "You have a chef here?" I shouldn't have been surprised. Of course, Alexander Carter would have a chef, even on a private island. "Chef Miguel. He's fantastic. Trained in Paris but specializes in incorporating local ingredients." Alexander sipped his coffee. "Wait until you try his coconut French toast. It's incredible." As if on cue, a man in crisp white appeared at the terrace entrance. "Breakfast is served, Mr. Carter." Alexander stood, offering me his hand. "Shall we?"

Sweet plantains, pan-fried until their natural sugars turned caramel brown. Simple. Greasy. Anything but elegant. And that’s exactly why I loved it. "Madam," a soft voice broke the silence from the direction of the door. "Mr. De Castello is coming." I didn’t turn around. I finished the last plate, reached for the serving dish from the cabinet above. "Looks like you’ve decided to take over the kitchen today," came a voice behind me. I set my plate down on the table. No rush to look at him. No smile either. But somehow, I could already picture the expression on his face without needing to see it. One brow raised halfway, that jawline... too perfect for a morning this dark.

Or would she not? *** THE ALPHA'S CASTLE. "So, you really want to cook with me?" Elise couldn't help but ask, with a chuckle. "Of course," Ravenna replied. It had dawned bright and clear thag morning, and Lazarus's mother had approached her, asking to cook alongside her. They soon got to the kitchen, and as soon as they walked into the large and modern kitchen, filled with appliances of sort, the bewildered servants rose, and stared at them.

“Good girl, Bianca. Now for my second question. Who is the cook that makes the meal in this Castle? I thought it was you, Bianca. I kept you in this Castle because I thought you were the best cook ever. And then I found out that you are a mole and I got you locked in this pretty little interrogation room and I thought we would not eat nice meals in this Castle because my pretty little chef is no longer in the kitchen. You can imagine my surprise when the delicious meals kept coming, even after I got you locked in here. I mean, how can you cook my meals when you are locked in here. That could only mean that you weren’t the cook in this Castle, am I right?”

When I returned to the D'Amico residence, Matteo was in the kitchen. An East Coast mafia heir stood with his sleeves rolled up in front of a pot and a cutting board full of tomatoes. The picture looked so wrong that I almost laughed before I reached the door. He looked up and noticed my mood at once. "Who did you run into?" "Someone irrelevant." Matteo did not ask more. He turned the heat down and came over to take off my coat. "Dinner will be late. It’s my first time making seafood risotto, and the chance of failure is high."

Terracotta pots overflowed with herbs — basil, rosemary, thyme. “Where are we?” I asked as he held my hand and led me into the building. Before he could respond, a loud voice called out in a heavily-accented tone. “Ah, you’re here. Welcome!” I looked up to the speaker and froze for what felt like eternity. The “surprise” turned out to be a private cooking class. With the renowned Italian chef, Enzo Castano. The man was gifted with the secrets of authentic Italian cuisine. I looked around and saw that the space was already set up with fresh ingredients, bowls of flour, and a pasta machine.

He was wiping down a blade when he suddenly stopped and let out a small laugh that seemed to surprise even him. "Remember when Stella tried teaching us to cook?" He looked at Caspian. "She burned everything. Every single time. And then she would stand there looking at the smoke detector like it personally offended her." Caspian's mouth twitched. "She once set the kitchen on fire making toast. Toast. How do you set a fire making toast?" "Talent." Jeremy grinned. "Pure, unfiltered, destructive talent." "She also made the best hot chocolate I've ever tasted." Rowan spoke without looking up from his map. "No recipe. She just threw things into a pot and somehow it worked."