Chapter 54 Chicken Soup
Chapter 54 Chicken Soup
“True,” Julius muttered, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “You’d just embarrass yourself by going out.”
He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Get out of here.”
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Lisa turned without a word, her face blank, and retreated to her room. Once there, she sat down on her bed, staring silently at the clock. After a few minutes, she heard movement from the living room. Her curiosity piqued, she quietly cracked the door just enough to see Julius hurrying to the bathroom, his face contorted in discomfort.
Without hesitation, Lisa slipped out of her room, disposed of the half–finished hangover soup, and even washed the bowl.
Even after all that, Julius still hadn’t come out of the bathroom.
Lisa raised an eyebrow and muttered under her breath, “Tonight, you can stay in there.”
She had slipped a whole laxative into the soup–enough to leave Julius weak and drained afterward.
Content with her silent revenge, Lisa slept soundly that night. The next morning, she awoke to find Tiffany in the living room, a look of surprise on her face. “Julius? What happened to you?”
“I… don’t know. Maybe I ate something bad,” Julius mumbled, pale and slumped on the couch. “My stomach’s killing me.” “You’ve been to so many parties lately. Who knows if the food was safe?” Tiffany said, her voice laced with concern. “I’ll call a doctor to check on you.”
Lisa offered a faint smile but quickly let it vanish.
Julius had made her promise to arrange a meeting with Alora within the week, but now the question was: Where could she find someone to pretend to be Alora?
“Lisa!” Tiffany’s voice interrupted her thoughts as she returned from the phone call. Seeing Lisa, she quickly approached. “I need to talk to you!”
“What’s going on?” Lisa asked.
Tiffany glanced briefly at Julius, still looking half–dead on the couch, before lowering her voice. “Mario wants you to make him: that chicken soup again. Can you―”
Not happening, Lisa replied without hesitation, her tone cold. “Last time I made him tortellini in brodo, I ended up grounded. Who knows what kind of trouble he’d cause if I make him soup this time?”
“Mario’s just worried about you,” Tiffany said softly, a touch of sadness in her voice. “After everything with William, and all the chaos lately, what if something happens to you?”
“Worried?” Lisa scoffed, the corner of her mouth twitching. “It’s just his need to control everything.He wants me to hurry up and become someone’s mistress, just to bring in some profit for the family. Of course, he doesn’t want me running around.”
“Lisa, you can’t think like that,” Tiffany said, her face pained. “You weren’t like this before. Don’t you want to get along with the family anymore?”
Lisa’s fingers curled into fists.
She had wanted to. So badly.
That was why, in her past life, she had foolishly sacrificed everything for their benefit. And what had she received in return? Lisa closed her eyes and sighed. “I won’t do it, so drop it.”
She pulled her hand from Tiffany’s grip and walked onto the balcony.
Tiffany’s expression instantly turned cold.
Has Lisa truly given up on Mario? If she’s not going to crawl like a dog to please him, she’ll be harder to control. Maybe a little sweetness is
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Chapter 54 Chicken Soup.
what she needs to get her back in line.
But the most important thing right now is Mario.
I’ve already made a promise. I can’t afford for him to start suspecting anything.
Tiffany moved into the kitchen, attempting to make the chicken soup herself–she didn’t trust the house staff, worried Mario would notice a difference in flavor.
Having watched Lisa make it countless times, Tiffany tried to follow the steps from memory, but, lacking any real cooking skills, she ended up making a mess of the kitchen.
“Oh, Ms. Tiffany!” Greta said sympathetically, taking Tiffany’s hand. “You should just tell us what you want; we can make it for you! You don’t belong in the kitchen.”
“It’s fine, Greta,” Tiffany replied with a smile. “Mario wants me to make it, so I can’t let anyone else do it.”
She didn’t believe for a second that her soup would taste much different from Lisa’s.
“You’re so good to Mr. Mario,” Greta said, her voice full of admiration.
Tiffany smiled. “That’s because he’s always been good to me.”
“True,” Greta replied. “The Olsens have always treated you like their own daughter. I’m sure your parents would be proud, looking down on you.”
Greta had been Tiffany’s nanny and had watched her grow. Compared to the other servants, she had a much closer relationship with Tiffany.
Tiffany’s expression hardened, her voice sharp. “Greta, my last name is Olsen. I am their daughter, do you understand?” Greta’s face faltered. “Yes! I’m sorry, Ms. Tiffany. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Tiffany’s gaze returned to the pot, then she ordered, “Pour the soup into containers. I’m heading to the hospital.”
Later that evening, at dinnertime, Tiffany arrived at the hospital.
“Hey, Mario,” she said, setting down the thermos. “Time to eat.”
Mario’s sharp eyes immediately noticed the fresh wound on her hand. “What happened this time?”
