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Cooked Meals, Cooked Lies Novel Cover

Cooked Meals, Cooked Lies

Jack Cooke, a billionaire who never cooked, suddenly becomes obsessed with polishing kitchen tools while neglecting basic hygiene. The situation escalates when he moves his collection into their bedroom, leading his wife to demand a divorce. During a high-stakes meeting with investors, Jack publicly destroys the legal papers, dismissively labeling her concerns as drama. Having sacrificed her own position for his eccentricities, she must now confront the lies behind his new obsession.
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Chapter 2

Jack jumped in front of Linda like some kind of hero. "If you're mad, take it out on me. No need to drag her into this."

I laughed, sharp and cold. "She picked this fight. Don't play the victim card now."

The room shifted. People frowned. The whispers started—low, judgmental, full of side-eyes and silent blame.

***

Thanks to Jack and Linda's little act, I was officially the cheating wife in everyone's eyes.

Linda sniffled. "I shouldn't have gotten involved..."

Jack's eyes went all red. "You didn't do anything wrong. Sonna's just being irrational."

Then he turned to me, full-on pity mode. "Babe, it's my fault. But don't take it out on everyone else."

He went in for the kill. "Ever since we lost the baby, you've been unstable—lashing out. I was just trying to take care of your health and forgot about your feelings. I'm sorry. Let's stop fighting, yeah?"

The more he groveled, the worse I looked.

People started glaring at me.

"Enough already. Apologize to your husband—don't blow up your marriage over this."

"If you won't make things right, we're pulling out of the deal."

I caught every glare, every whispered judgment.

They thought waving their money around would scare me into apologizing.

Not happening.

I scoffed, pulled out another fresh stack of divorce papers. "Here's the agreement. You're signing it—one way or another. Refuse, and I'll force it."

Jack's face went dark. "You've lost it. I'm not divorcing you. Over my dead body!"

Linda jumped in, practically buzzing to fan the flames. "You've got a man like Jack and you still want out? If that's not cheating, I don't know what is. Ms. Somerset, he really loves you. Don't throw him away for some assistant."

I didn't even look at her.

I turned to Jack, cool and sharp. "You sure you want me to tell everyone the real reason I'm doing this?"

***

The second I said it, Jack—who'd been all bark a minute ago—went dead quiet. "Do you have to be this cruel?"

I didn't even glance his way.

Defeated, he walked out without another word.

With that mess behind me, I headed home to pack.

But the fingerprint scanner kept rejecting me.

While I stood there, confused, the maids started whispering loud enough for me to hear.

"She really came back. Shameless."

"Mr. Cooke's still busting his butt in the kitchen, and she doesn't care."

"Says she's 'over it,' but come on—she's totally hooking up with that assistant. Why else would she basically live at the office?"

They weren't being subtle. They wanted it to sting.

Just as I was about to ask someone to open the door, Jack and Linda strolled out.

"Shut up!" Jack snapped at the maids. "Who do you think you are, talking about my wife like that?"

Then he looked at me with that fake soft smile. "Babe, I knew you were just upset. I knew you'd come back."

I didn't say a word. Just walked past him into the house.

He lit up like he'd won.

Holding out a bowl of soup, he tried to play the doting husband. "I made some Avgolemono. Still warm."

I caught the red scratch marks just barely hidden under his collar.

Face blank, I smacked the bowl right out of his hands. "I'm not drinking that."

The hot soup splashed all over him.

Gasps all around.

"She really dumped boiling soup on him? That's messed up."

"She doesn't deserve a guy like Mr. Cooke!"

I didn't even blink. Just kept walking—straight upstairs to the master bedroom.

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