"Sienna," he said without turning around, his voice calm and steady, as if he had already decided how this conversation would go. "You might sit—"

"Yes," Sienna answered quickly. She moved toward the sofa and sat on it, her back straight, her hands resting politely on her lap.

From where she sat, she could see only his broad back. He still didn’t move, and somehow that made everything worse.

Her eyes remained fixed on him, waiting. And waiting.

’Why does he act like this?’ she thought, puzzled. ’Is this a test? Make you sit in silence until you confess your sins?’

The silence stretched so long that her thoughts began to form so many dramatic questions again, each one more dramatic than the last.

’Did I overcook the steak? Was the sauce too salty? Did I poison his son? Oh my god, Sienna, you’re going to be fired on your first night working as a chef!’

After a few more seconds, Sienna couldn’t take it anymore. She took a deep, silent breath and finally dared to ask, "Zach, did I fail?"

Her question finally made him move.

Zachary turned around slowly, his expression unreadable as his eyes landed on her.

For a moment, he simply stared at her, as if trying to understand how her mind worked.

Then, without a word, he walked toward the seating area and took a seat across from her. Only a coffee table separates them, like a thin but very noticeable line.

"Failed?" he asked, his tone calm but clearly confused.

Sienna nodded quickly.

"I wonder if Sky didn’t like the sirloin I cooked. Maybe the sauce was too salty, or perhaps too bland, or maybe the meat was too tough—"

She stopped herself before she could list another ten possible disasters.

A frown slowly formed on her forehead when she saw him smile.

Zachary shook his head gently. "Sky likes it. He gave you two thumbs up."

It was as if someone had just lifted a heavy stone from her chest. Sienna’s eyes instantly brightened, and a wide smile spread across her face.

She placed her hand over her heart, letting out a quiet breath. "I feel relieved..."

But then, almost immediately, her eyes flickered back to him, filled with expectation.

"And... how about you?" she asked, her voice softer now, but carrying a hint of anticipation.

"Perfect," he answered without hesitation.

"Really?"

"Yes." He nodded slightly. "The tenderness and the taste are perfect. But—"

’But? But, what?’ The word hit her like a sudden drop in an elevator. Instantly, her smile froze. Her shoulders stiffened. Her heart, which had just calmed down, began racing again.

’There it is,’ she thought. ’The real feedback. The painful truth. Prepare yourself, Sienna.’

"You didn’t make enough," he continued calmly. "Next time, make more. Sky and I have a big appetite."

Sienna stared at him. For a second, she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or apologize.

In the end, she did neither.

"Okay! I’ll make a bigger portion later," she said earnestly, nodding as if he had just given her a very serious instruction.

"Thank you."

"Anything you want me to prepare? I mean... what kind of food do you or Sky prefer?" she added quickly, pulling herself back into her professional role.

Zachary leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed. "As I told you, we are not picky eaters. You can make anything you like... and we will happily enjoy it."

"I see..." she murmured, smiling faintly.

Inside, however, her thoughts were not as calm.

’Is he really that easygoing?’ she wondered. ’Or is he just being polite? Or... is he pitying me?’

Sienna tried to find an answer in his gaze, but as always, she found nothing.

Instead, she felt something else. A strange flutter. She quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in the room.

Only now did she truly notice it.

This was not just a study room—it was more like a private library. The walls were lined with tall bookshelves filled with neatly arranged books. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them.

In the corner, near a beautiful French window, stood a Victorian-era wooden desk with an open laptop on it, and behind it was a cozy-looking armchair.

For a moment, she forgot where she was. Until she felt it again. That gaze.

She turned back to him, and just as she expected, his eyes were still on her, watching, observing. As if he were trying to read her like one of the books on the shelf.

"Oh, right," she said quickly, forcing herself to stay composed. "You said you wanted to say something. What is it?"

Zachary didn’t hesitate this time.

"I hope you prepare breakfast at seven," he said, his tone returning to its calm, business-like rhythm. "Lunch and dinner can follow normal hours. But especially tomorrow, can you prepare breakfast for takeaway? Something simple, with a warm drink. I plan to hike with my son."

"Sure." Sienna immediately pulled out her phone and typed quickly. "I’ll arrange so breakfast will be served a few minutes before seven in the morning. Anything else?"

He was silent for a moment, as if considering something more. Then he shook his head lightly.

"I guess that’s it. Nothing more—" he paused before hurriedly adding. "Oh, one more thing. I just wanted to tell you... This is my holiday villa, and as you can see, the nature surrounding it is gorgeous. So, since your duty is only to cook for us and not do any other chores, you may explore the nature surrounding this place, or get some rest, or do whatever you want after you’ve done cooking for us. This place is perfect for healing our minds."

Sienna nodded slowly, absorbing his words.

’This is a good place to rest,’ she thought. ’My body and my mind need healing time...’

For the first time in a while, she allowed herself to imagine sleeping peacefully, without thinking about work, problems, or people trying to ruin her life. That thought alone made her feel lighter.

Seeing her quiet, Zachary stood up. "Alright. You should rest now."

He turned, ready to leave.

Sienna quickly stood as well, following him toward the door.

But something still lingered in her mind. The question she had asked earlier, and he hadn’t answered.

’Should I ask again?’ she hesitated. ’No, girl! Don’t ruin the moment again.’

They stepped out of the study room, and just as she was about to head toward her room—

"Sienna." His voice stopped her.

She turned back. "Yes?"

Zachary looked at her for a few seconds, his expression calm but slightly different this time. Softer. More... certain.

"I’m not married."