"Alright. Come back here first. Help me clean all the mess in the kitchen.

“Yes, sir!" Jack instantly agreed and drove back.

This task was actually much easier for him than buying high quality goods. So, he went back to the villa without complaining.

When Jack arrived at the villa, he saw so many familiar things in the kitchen that turned to waste.

There were six Australian lobsters, six filet steaks, and other high-grade ingredients that were charred.

“Wait. Is this..."

Jack wanted to ask if Maria, who had always been impeccable when it came to cooking, finally failed in this particular recipe.

Not only that, she failed six times in a row? Was that even possible? “What a waste," Jack blurted out, shaking his head.

He was busy cleaning the mess in the kitchen that he didn't notice the awkward expression on his boss's face.

“Boss, maybe you can ask Miss Jenkins to do something else if she can't get this recipe right. If she fails a few more times, I'm afraid even the filet steaks will also be sold out." Jack was actually just suggesting out of consideration.

But after saying that, he suddenly remembered that he had come and gone to the villa seven times this morning. However, he didn't see Maria in the kitchen even once.

Was she hiding because she failed repeatedly and felt ashamed?

It was fine for her to hide, but why did she ask Anthony to put the apron on instead?

He furrowed his brows, thinking that the apron didn't suit Anthony. Moreover, he didn't need to put it on if he wasn't assisting in the cooking process. Then, his eyes widened as if he had finally realized what was really going on.

Afterward, Jack also noticed that his boss had a strong smell of smoke and the burnt ingredients he bought earlier.

Even his handsome black hair stuck on his forehead and was slightly oily.

Seeing all these, a horrifying conclusion gradually flashed in Jack's mind.

“It wasn't Miss Jenkins who cooked... It was Mr. Wilson?!"

Jack also found that at least three of Anthony's fingers were covered with band-aids. He vividly remembered that the first time he arrived and delivered the ingredients this morning, Anthony's hands were perfectly fine.

Beads of sweat instantly formed on Jack's forehead, frightened that he blurted out some insensitive stuff just now. He lowered his head and quickly finished cleaning the trash, not daring to say another word.