Page 26 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

A small laugh burst from my chest.

He continued, “I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer wine, or another cocktail. That came from Master Laurent’s collection. There is more left in the bottle, if you wish—“ His words cut off abruptly before he said, “What, may I ask, is that look for?”

I schooled my features and strode across the room, lifting the plate cover. The scent of cream and fish and rice, accompanied by the herbs he’d used, was overwhelming in the best way. I loved cooking, but my measly finances never afforded anything like this.

I replaced the cover and turned. “Is this your job here, then? Cooking?”

“I have served House Sarkas for a very long time—yes. Along with a number of other duties.”

My forehead furrowed. “Are you like…a servant or something?”

He huffed, affronted. “Miss Shaw, that is an outdated term. If you must make sense of my position, I prefer butler. But even that doesn’t cover everything I do for this family.”

“Oh…”

“Have you need of anything else?” He took another step back, obviously impatient to remove himself from my presence.

“Wait, this isn’t like poisoned or anything?” I was mostly joking.

There was a brief flash of irritation before his expression smoothed. “No, Miss Shaw. I assure you, it is perfectly fine. Anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

He offered me a curt nod before closing the door behind him.

Okay, maybe I should have kept the poison comment to myself.

I dropped into a chair and began uncovering my food, like opening a precious gift. The basket held warm bread. I lifted a slice of it to my face and inhaled. It was soft on the inside but crusty on the outside.

Had he baked this just for me?

I dismissed the idea. Why would I warrant that sort of effort? This was probably something Vittorio had made for Laurent—leftovers he’d scrounged up when it came time to feed me.

Even still, I wasn’t going to let that sour my experience. There’d been a time when food was scarce. When I’d gone days without anything to eat. I knew how to accept what was given to me. Accept it and be grateful.

I began shoveling food into my mouth, groaning. It was good, so good. The squash medallions were perfectly seared, with a hint of butter. The salmon was charred just right. I inhaled everything, using the bread to sop up the remaining sauce before sighing with contentment. My body went limp.

The wine, I savored, sipping it until it was gone.

I was tempted to ask for more, but exhaustion hit me. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open. I groaned—I wouldn’t be a lazy slob, especially on the off chance that Vittorio had actually made this for me. So, I replaced everything onto the tray and carried it downstairs.

I found the kitchen after wandering through the manor. It was shockingly modern, with stainless steel appliances, an industrial grade cook stove, and miles of granite countertops. A giant island stood in the middle, home to an elegant, multi-tiered fruit basket.

Vittorio looked up, caught off guard.

“Miss Shaw? Is something wrong?”

“No, I just wanted to return these.” I walked over to the sink.

“I will manage the dishes, Miss Shaw,” he said, tone sharp. “Leave them by the sink.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

I studied him. “Are you…making bread?” He tipped his head in answer. His hands were covered in flour, submerged in a ball of dough. “You like cooking and baking, don’t you?”

“I enjoy it, yes. Will that be all, Miss Shaw?”