Author's POV

“Yah! You’re doing it wrong,” Kris chided as he lightly pushed you away from the box of pancake mix.

You gave him an irritated look.

“What do you mean I’m doing it wrong? I haven’t done anything yet!”

Kris shook his head.

“You have to sift the mix through a strainer first. After that, you mix in all the wet ingredients together in a separate bowl before slowly whisking it in with the dry ingredients.”

You watched carefully as he made the batter. He worked so swiftly and his movements were so diligent, it actually made you feel even more incompetent in the kitchen.

“Forget being a CEO, how about being a chef?” you mumbled under your breath.

Kris heard your comment and chuckled.

“I’m not good enough to be a chef. I learned to make myself food as a survival skill.”

You scoffed. “What’s the difference between knowing how to cook and McDonald’s?”

Without looking up from what he was doing, he replied with the first answer that came to his mind, “Heart disease.”

“But cooking at home is expensive,” you argued.

“Well it’s nothing compared to the hospital bills you’re going to get when you fall over from a heart attack.”

You huffed defiantly knowing that he was winning this argument. “Are we really going to do this now?”

“Nope,” he said as he ushered you to the breakfast table. “We’re having breakfast now.”

You looked down at the table in shock.

In the time that you were fumbling with the directions to the pancake mix and trying to perfect the skill of cracking eggs and not leave shell pieces in the bowl, Kris had managed to make scrambled eggs and sausage. And in the time he was debating with you on the concept of cooking, he also managed to make perfectly fluffy pancakes for the both of you.

You sat down as Kris sat in the seat perpendicular to yours on your left.

“You know…” You began to take a bite of your scrambled eggs. “I might not be a trophy wife, but you surely have the right to claim that title.”

“Then are you the breadwinner?” he teased.

“You can have that title as well,” you replied with distaste. “I can’t afford this type of lifestyle on my salary.”

“Then what would you be?”

You paused to think about it. Then you grinned. “Family pet. I get fed. I have a place to sleep. And I do nothing.”

Kris choked on his pancake.

You patted his back as you laughed good-naturedly. “Whoops, didn’t mean to kill you there. Sorry, Wufan.”

He was about to respond when one of the housemaids entered the room with a guest behind her. “I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, Master Wu, Madame Wu. This young lady stopped by and claimed to be your new secretary.”

The both of you looked over at the guest and saw Ahren standing behind the housemaid. Ahren smiled and gave a small bow. “Are you feeling okay, President Wu? I was worried when you had me cancel your morning appointments. I thought you were sick.”

“Ah,” Kris smiled politely as he placed his hand over yours without even thinking about it.

You looked at the placement of his hand and felt a surge of warmth course through you. “I’m fine, I just wanted to spend the morning with my wife.”

Kris was oblivious to the girl’s expression, but you didn’t fail to notice her smile falter slightly. “Is that so? You make a very good husband, President Wu.” She stuttered the compliment.

He chuckled as he nudged your forehead with his. “Thank you, could you tell my wife that?”

“Yah are you teasing me in front of your workers now?” you cut in with a frown.

Kris pulled you closer. “I can’t help it. It’s fun.” He impulsively kissed your temple.

The housemaid who was still standing in the room, bit back her smile as she slowly backed out of the room until she left comp