Chapter 15: Who Cooked Them?

Greta's beautiful eyes glittered with puzzlement. Seldom did this man leave the house. He usually stayed at home, employed in doing housework, which was supposed to be done by servants. The cooking he made every day tasted average. Greta didn't understand how he could make these dishes, as if he had become someone else.

He must have bought these!

Greta thought to herself. She would rather believe that Maxwell deliberately showed off his cooking skill to save face than believe that Maxwell had cooked them himself.

"Did you prepare these dishes yourself?" Hal smiled and asked, fixing his eyes on Maxwell, as if he wanted to expose Maxwell as a liar from his eyes.

"That's right. I hope you'll excuse me for my poor cooking skill, Mr. Hal," Maxwell said humbly with an embarrassing smile. With calmness in his eyes, Maxwell wasn't afraid of meeting Hal's gazes. Hal failed to see anything.

After taking a mouthful of cream mushroom soup, Hal immediately turned to look at Maxwell, his eyes sparkling.

"What's wrong? Please excuse his poor cooking skill, Hal." Greta thought that Hal was not satisfied, so she anxiously explained.

Hal lived overseas for many years, especially in France, so he must have been under conditioning of authentic high-end catering culture.

Although Maxwell had worked in Lafite Vineyard for a while, how could he come into contact with this? He was no match for Hal at the mastery of culinary culture of France. However, today Maxwell chose to make cream mushroom soup, a famous dish in France. He would humiliate himself. Greta began to blame Maxwell for messing up.

"No." Hal shook his head, looking at Maxwell in shock and bewilderment. "This cream mushroom soup tastes very authentic. Not only does it retain the original flavor of France, it also contains the flavor of China. As far as I know, no chef can make it."

"Unexpectedly, Mr. Maxwell, you do impress me today. I have to admit that you have a profound understanding of the cuisine of France. Otherwise, you won't be able to cook such an authentic and famous dish of France."

"Mr. Dai, I feel flattered. Every citizen of France can make this soup. I only added some local seasonings at the right time. That's why it has a unique flavor. I have spent some time reading the relevant books. It's just a trick."

Greta was dumbfounded. Listening to Hal's favorable reviews, she looked at Maxwell in great shock.

Greta blinked her beautiful eyes, staring at Maxwell with confusion. She had never thought that Maxwell would be able to talk in such a logical manner.

Maxwell had only worked in Lafite Vineyard, but Hal had gone to many top restaurants in France. Thus, it was not hard to imagine how much Greta was shocked at Hal's speaking highly of Maxwell.

Greta had no knowledge that Maxwell rarely showed off his culinary skills. That he taught the famous God of Cookery in the western dark world was his latest experience....

"Mr. Maxwell, you should also be very proficient in western etiquette." Hal, however, did not intend to let Maxwell off and suddenly asked.

"I can speak a little language of France. There's no problem for me to communicate." Maxwell laughed awkwardly, but Hal was delighted. Wasn't this an opportunity for him?

"Just now in the car, Greta told me that Mr. Maxwell knew red wine. Why don't we have a drink?" At the sound of Hal's words, Greta changed her color.

Hal was deliberately making things difficult for Maxwell. Although Maxwell won the debate yesterday, Edmund only knew little about red wine, unaware that he had been tricked. One could imagine how limited Edmund's knowledge of catering culture was.

As for Hal, he lived overseas. He had probably tasted more red wine than the amount of water Maxwell had had!

Yesterday, Maxwell was slick. But today, in front of Hal, how could he continue acting?

The moment Greta was about to ease the situation, Maxwell nodded with a smile.

Not long after, Greta had to bring over a bottle of Lafite with anger. After the red liquid was poured into a glass, Maxwell gently pinched the stem of the wine cup with his three fingers in a graceful posture.

At that moment, without any trace of rudeness, Maxwell was elegant, like a genuine gentleman living in the west!

Greta stared at Maxwell. At that moment, she thought the one she sighted was not a lowly servant who only knew how to please others, but a gentleman with good manners!

Greta's beautiful eyes flashed with a trace of confusion. She did not understand how Maxwell could become a gentleman with such excellent culinary skills after only working for a short period of time in a winery in France!

She suddenly felt that she could no longer see Maxwell through.

"Please." Maxwell toasted, completely different from the rude one last night. Now, he was full of impeccable temperament!

If he were wearing a suit, no one would consider him as a citizen of China, because he was full of the western noble temperament!

Hal put down his wine glass, clapping.

Looking at Maxwell, he said with satisfaction, "To my surprise, Mr. Maxwell, you know so much about western etiquette. I feel quite ashamed. I apologize to you for my prejudice and secularity just now."

"Mr. Maxwell, I'm flattered. My wife teaches me all of this." Suddenly, Maxwell smiled faintly, making Greta's face stiffen.

She was in a state of shock for a few seconds before she realized Maxwell's good intentions. He wanted her to take the credit so as to help her win Hal's favorable impression.

After dinner, Hal chatted with Greta for a while before walking out of the mansion.

After he was seated in a taxi, the smile on his face instantly faded, replaced by a cold smile.

He made a call, and an overseas number was flashed up on the screen!

"Dad, do you know who I met after I returned to China?" Hal whispered.

"Who?" The voice on the other end of the phone was deep.

"Four years ago, I saw an arrest warrant in France. The man wanted by the royal family of France is now Greta's husband!" Hal slowly spoke, his eyes malicious and calm.

"Are you sure? Back then, the princess of France has been enraged by him so much that she vented her anger on the streets."

"Of course. I deliberately sounded him out during dinner. He knows western etiquette well ... To my surprise, he has been hiding in China and become Greta's husband." Hal paused for a moment. "If we capture him and present him to the royal family of France, then we can replace other countries and cooperate with France."

"We cannot alert him. Although he looks like a useless man now, he must be hiding his capacities. Thus, we must be on full alert." After Hal hung up, a cold smile lifted the corner of his mouth. At the sight of Maxwell, he recognized him, so he had been confirming Maxwell's identity during the meal.

Hal sneered disdainfully. "Greta, you even have your eye on such a useless man. You must be driven by your sex desire." Unexpectedly, Greta married such a weak and incompetent man. Their marriage was a mockery.

...

"Did you really cook these dishes?" Greta asked as she stared coldly at Maxwell.

"Of course." Maxwell thoughtfully poured a glass of water for Greta.

"When did you become so good at cooking?" A trace of doubt flashed through Greta's beautiful eyes.

"I learned recipes online. What a talent I am." Maxwell chuckled.

Ignoring the narcissistic fellow, Greta rolled her eyes upward at him and walked out of the mansion.

She was in a hurry to deal with the company's affairs. Just now, Melissa called her several times, wanting her to solve the problems emerging during the meeting.

Having returned to the company, Greta sat in the office. Suddenly, there was a knock on the office door. Melissa walked in with a short-haired woman.

Greta looked up and glanced at the short-haired woman, who was tall with sharp eyes, like a cheetah.

"President Greta, this is your bodyguard," Melissa said in a crisp voice.

"I see. You can leave." Having picked up the woman's resume, Greta flipped it through and then took a glance at the short-haired woman.

Leila Sawyer, 22 years old, won the national lightweight women's combat championship. After that, she joined the women's special forces, served as the vice-captain. After retiring, she started her own bodyguard company.

The brief introduction had already illustrated clearly about Leila's background and identity. Although it did not specify what honors she had won, it had already impressed Greta a lot.

"Melissa will introduce the situation of the company and specific work to you later. The salary is up to you. Do you have any more questions?" Greta put down the resume and looked at Leila.

Leila looked around the office with a serious expression. "President Greta, if I'm not mistaken, someone must have tampered with this place."

"What do you mean?" Greta was slightly shocked, a bad feeling surging through her.

After standing up, Leila suddenly pointed at the potted plant in the corner of the office. "The pot has been moved. If it didn't happen during the cleanup process, someone must have planted a bug there."

"A book on the third floor of the bookshelf is deliberately tilted, leaving enough space to hide a camera."

"Besides, President Greta, you phone has been dismantled once. It's possible that a bug has been planted inside."

Leila's words hit the nail on the head, shocking Greta slightly!

Leila stepped forward. After searching the bookcase, the potted plant, and Greta's phone, she got nothing. Then her brows furrowed.

"What's wrong?" Greta asked.

"It's strange." Leila frowned as she looked at Greta. "President Greta, this scratch was definitely caused by a wiretap, but all the wiretaps have been removed."

"They had been removed?" Greta was slightly shocked, changing her color instantly. "Who could it be?"

"It was the one who planted them," Leila slowly spoke, causing Greta's pretty face to turn pale. To her surprise, someone else had full access to her office.

Who could have done all this?