The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

Justin's handsome face stiffened. Stunned, Justin accidentally dropped the piece of chicken into the hot oil.
The hot oil splattered onto his hand and arm, the pain jolting him back to reality. He said awkwardly, "Hey, Drew."
"Judging by how you're always making innuendos, you must be really good in bed, huh?"
Drew sneered, craning his neck to peek into the oil pot. "Well, I'm not sure whether Bella, the little glutton, smelled this. But I
definitely followed the scent here. It smells like something's burning." Justin was startled and finally realized the chicken pieces
he had put in earlier were still in the pot.
He hurriedly grabbed the skimmer. However, when he retrieved the chicken pieces, they had turned dark brown.
Justin's eyes filled with frustration. He recalled Wyatt's harsh comments the first time he tried his cooking.
The words echoed in his ears like a haunting melody.
"Alright, I get your intention. But there's no need to force yourself into areas you're not good at. If you end up with blisters all over
your hands, wouldn't Bella be the one upset about it?"
As he spoke, Drew took off his coat, rolled his sleeves up, and stood next to Justin. He bumped him aside with his hip. "Move
over. Don't get in the way."
Justin's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you going to make it?"
"Well, if we're counting on you, my sister would only get charred chunks of chicken."
Justin did not get angry because Drew was right. He had overestimated his cooking skills.
Drew washed his hands. Then, he skillfully put the chicken pieces into the pot, checked his watch, carefully timed it, and then
stirred the oil. After a while, he took out the golden-brown chicken pieces. Justin stood by Drew, assisting and observing intently,
absorbed in the process.
"So, do you know how to make it now?" Drew asked without looking up.
Justin nodded. "Yes."
"You've got it in your head, but you don't actually know how to do it yet, right?"

Justin frowned and smiled wryly. "Drew, sometimes I need a bit of encouragement, too."
Drew's long eyelashes fluttered as he glanced at Justin. "You'll get it right after a few tries. I failed countless times before I got it
right too. If it weren't for Bella loving it, who would bother with this messy and troublesome task? The smell of oil even sticks
around for days! You Know, sometimes you shouldn't spoil her that much. If she gets used to it, she'll demand you to cook all the
time. What are you going to do then?"
Justin's gaze softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "It's alright. I'll do anything as long as Bella likes it. It doesn't matter
how troublesome the task is." "Hmph! I hope it's not all talk." Drew scoffed, though his heart felt warm.
"Wow! Fried chicken! That smells so good!"
The two men turned around simultaneously.
This time, it was indeed the little glutton.
With the weather turning colder and to better care for her father, Bella swapped her elegant silk nightgowns for cozy, cream-
colored plush loungewear. It complemented her delicate, moon-like face, making her look like a soft and adorable rabbit.
"Justin, Drew, when did you both get back? You guys should've told me you're back."
Bella then shuffled over in her slippers, a sweet, warm breeze accompanying her as she dashed into Justin's arms.
"Wait... Bella, I'm covered in flour. I'll get your clothes dirty." Justin gently reminded her. His hands, coated in batter, froze in mid-
air, not daring to touch her.
"You really made this for me just because I mentioned it last night?!"
Bella brushed the flour from Justin's cheeks with her warm fingertips, her heart aching and tender. "Why did you go through all
this? You're already commuting between two cities every day, working, and coming back to be with me. It must be so exhausting
for you.