Novel & Cerita Tre Stelle Michelin Book In English

I walked a few blocks, avoiding eye contact with all the other people. It was a particularly chilly evening. The sun was shining its last rays of the day upon the city. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and zipped the zipper all the way up to my chin. I threw my hood over my head and folded my arms, pulling the ends of my sleeves over my fingertips. I was on my way to work as a server at one of the best restaurants in the city. Questione di Gusti, an Italian restaurant that is very high-end and expensive. It was one of those Michelin Star restaurants that many celebrities and rich people frequent. The cost of dinner for one can cover a month of my living amenities.

Lexus, someday, love me as Stella! Lexus chose an Italian restaurant because Bastian told him that Stella really wanted to have dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant. Lexus knows Stella hasn't traveled anywhere since her family went bankrupt and moved to London, England. "Baby, what would you like to eat for dessert?" Stella was confused. She stared at all the menus available on the long table. "Baby, are you confused?" Stella nodded as Lexus stared at her. "Okay, I'll choose it for you," said Lexus then.

the receptionist says in a thick Italian accent. "Thank you." I say heading out. As I get into the car, I see Mason running out to me. "Alexis!" He calls out my name but I close the car door quickly and ask the driver to please go. "dove stai andando signora" the driver says in Italian. He was asking where I wanted to go to. Being a nerd, I actually know a little Italian though I'm rusty. "Rome Cavalieri, A Waldorf Astoria Hotel." I read out for him from the trip advisor page I googled.

It always surprised me how effortlessly seductive she was, yet how adorably she blushed every time. “Where are you taking me?” she asked with a wide smile as I guided her toward the car parked right at the front door. My sports car sat low, and I couldn’t help but get an excellent view of her cleavage as I held the door open for her. I adjusted my cock as I walked around to the driver’s side. This was going to be a torturous night, wanting to peel that dress off her every second. I took her to Girardi, one of the five Michelin-starred restaurants near the North Natbian border. Humans and werewolves alike frequented it.

the manager asked me to inform you that the files regarding the restaurant account were sent to your email today), The attendant said focusing on Dante. "Ottimo lavoro, grazie. Apprezzo la puntualità e la cura nei dettagli. Controllerò i documenti appena possibile. Per ora, accompagni pure me e la mia ospite al tavolo. È una serata importante, e vorrei che tutto fosse perfetto." (Excellent work, thank you. I appreciate the punctuality and attention to detail. I'll review the documents as soon as possible. For now, please lead my guest and me to the table. It's an important evening, and I want everything to be perfect.)

“It looks like they are well established human caterers. Three star Michelin rating and reviews.” “Trust Karen’s judgement. She is good at finding the best of the best, even if it is human. After all, they will soon be under my thumb as well, so they might as well get some practice in for it.” I leaned back, feeling like I a god looking over his creation, seeing the map before me almost highlighted all over with red, like a splash of blood across a vast sea.

Albert stated flatly, turning on his heel to lead them toward the private elevator. ​Throughout the entire drive in the luxury limousine toward the Michelin-starred restaurant on the banks of the River Seine, the atmosphere inside the vehicle was suffocatingly tense. Liam sat rigidly, his arm firmly locked in Elena's grasp, while his eyes dated nervously to the rearview mirror, catching Chloe’s flushed, furious face as she sat in the front seat, practically choking on her own jealousy. ​The moment the car ground to a halt in front of the magnificent, classical French restaurant, Albert held the door open. "We have arrived, Young Master. Chef Pierre is awaiting your arrival inside the private

“It’s fine. Gabbi, go grab us a table and tell my driver where to meet us. I’ll be out in five minutes.” Dante growls. “She’ll be out when we’re done.” I repeat, calmly: “Five minutes.” “Certo, la mia stella. Dovrei chiamare Daniel per il nostro tavolo normale?” (Of course, my star. Should I call Daniel for our usual table?) Gabbi asks, his voice smooth and deep as he scrolls through his phone. He’s already dialing Chef Daniel Boulud. Hearing him speak Italian—my language now too—does something to me. And Dante standing right here wouldn’t be thrilled to know what.

Elena shouts, and for a moment, I just blink at her, unsure if I’ve heard right. The room explodes into cheers. Applause rings out like confetti, bouncing between display cases and hanging plants. My staff starts yelling my name, whooping and whistling. Someone starts clapping in a rhythm like it’s a football match. My heart is racing. I can’t feel my legs. “What?” I whisper, looking down at the notification Elena’s shoved into my hand. The words Michelin Guide and Joie Du Sucre are right there on the screen. Real. Unmistakable.

“T-thanks.” I stretch out a hand. “Shall we?” Slowly, she descends the stairs. She places her soft hands in mine. “Yes, we shall.” “You brought me to a restaurant?” Faith asks the second the car pulls up in front of the artistic two-story building that houses the Michelin-star restaurant. The very best in town. “Yeah. You are hungry, aren't you?” She touches her belly. On the way here, I heard it growl twice. “Ermm…yeah.”