Tyrant Chef Novels & Stories

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.

Bourbon looked at her and I noticed Tyron's perfectly-shaped eyebrow raise in question. He is curious. Damn it. If this keeps us, Valerie is going to be in danger. Tyron is nothing but an egotistical bastard who always tried to make my life miserable. His name suits him perfectly wel, being a tryant and good at nothing else but to terrorize people around him.

[Tyler’s POV] The silver fork in Lucy’s hand scraped against the fine china, a sound that set my teeth on edge as she chatted away. "I’m telling you, Tyler, the steak is practically raw," Lucy said, her voice a sharp, annoying buzz in my ears. "We need to fire the chef. Everyone is getting on my nerves. Paparazzi won't let me breathe when I step out. Even the staff is getting lazy. They think they can get away with anything because the Rider name is being dragged through the mud."

Zach tries to tell me. “Okay, little boy, well then,” I change my tone to a more serious one and I hold his hands. “I think your father needs to reconsider who he leaves the title Alpha to. An Alpha cannot act this way, even at 4 years old. A Tyrant will lose, every single time. And the way you are acting, is the way a Tyrant behaves.” “What is a Tyrant?” Tony asks me, but Betty answers. “A tyrant is someone who will not listen to others, who believes their word is the only law and acts before thinking everything all the way through,” Betty explains, kneeling beside me, so we are both looking into our sons’ eyes.

Alpha Rex lazily glare at Tyler like he was in no hurry for this to finish whereas his eyes was showcasing an entire opposite of that. “Okay okay Joan I realised now where the problem is. He have given you options and the only way to solve this is to choose between the two. You must not have to give your answer now, just take your time and think about it. Please” Tyler pleaded which caused me to look down in defeat. I know that the only way to solve this chaos is to choose between becoming his personal chef and living in the palace.

He then threw the butt on the ground and stomped it with his foot. “So, this is your decision. Hahahahahahahaha.” Tyr had gone crazy and began to laugh maniacally as though he were a madman. That was when his cell phone rang for the second time. Tyr did not even bother to look at the phone’s caller ID before pressing the answer button and calling out the other party’s name, “War Emperor!” There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the line before War Emperor finally spoke, “Tyr Summers, the one you’ve captured is the young master of the number one gentry of the north.

Rocky yelled back at him. "Did you hear the prophecy?" Jaden asked and stare into his eyes. At the mention of prophecy, Rocky face fell. He had a sad expression on, and control the anger he was feeling inside. Jaden saw the look on his face and could tell that Rocky seems uncomfortable with what he just asked. Then he decided to get him angrier maybe, he will spill some things out. Jaden had a strong will that, Rocky could be the Tyrant Hybrid. "From your look, I guess you heard the prophecy. What do you think about the Tyrant Hybrid that was mentioned?" Jaden sat beside him and asks.

She was clinging to me… me, not him. For the first time, I felt it. Control. Leverage. Everything I’d wanted. She was finally scared of Thorne. And that bastard couldn’t protect her from himself. I stood slowly, squaring my shoulders, and left the room. The hallway felt suffocating, thick with tension as I spotted Thorne Weston, the so-called mafia tyrant, leaning against the wall like he’d just staggered out of a war. His knuckles were bloodied from where he must’ve punched something, his eyes wild, jaw trembling like he was holding himself together with broken glass.

Every glass was a punishment for my own stupidity over the years. “Miss, you’ve had too much,” a baritone voice spoke beside me. I turned my head, my watery eyes catching sight of a man who seemed unreal. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing a luxurious watch glinting under the bar’s dim lights. He looked far too refined to be a bartender. “Everyone abandoned me today,” I slurred, grabbing his collar. “My family, my fiancé… they said I’m a bastard. Am I really that bad?”

I watch her walk away and then I refocus on Tyson. “So, did you always want to be a gazillionaire when you grew up?” I ask with a laugh after Melinda has left. Oh shit, that hurts. Tyson laughs back. “You know, gazillionaire isn’t really a thing. And no, I wanted to be a chef. Until I realized I suck at cooking. Grilling, hands down, easiest style of cooking. I can cook almost anything on the grill, even a frozen pizza. But to actually cook in a kitchen, I burn it all.” I laugh at his sheepish facial expression. “No really, I almost burned down the main kitchen in the mansion when I was 10. I was trying to cook a pretty basic meal, spaghetti with meat sauce, salad, and bread. Everything was