He Stole My Golden Ticket for His Mistress, I Ruined Their New Restaurant

I was just pretending to faint. It hurt, but not enough to make me lose consciousness.

And then I heard what they were saying.

“Don’t hurt her again.” Livia’s voice—soft yet venomous—pierced my ears.

“Why is your heart so noble, Livia? She just tried to kill you.”

“To be honest, this time I’m really upset.”

“Then what do you want, darling?” Bryan asked softly. “Do we need to kill her father in prison?”

Secretly, my heart burned as I listened to their malicious conversation.

“Why rush? I think I want something else,” Livia chuckled. “As you know, I’m opening a restaurant. It’s sure to be a hit with my name having won the competition.”

“Yeah, so?” Bryan asked excitedly.

“Elena is the best chef I know. Can’t we take advantage of that by hiring her at minimum wage?”

“Great idea. She won’t be able to do anything about it because every kitchen knows she’s injured.”

They laughed as they left me in the room.

An hour later, when I pretended to wake up, the doctor approached me and said I would never be able to get pregnant again. My uterus had a severe infection.

I already knew this would happen. But it still felt suffocating. Empty. I’d always dreamed of becoming a mother. And now I’ll never be able to have children for the rest of my life.

But a day later, I pulled myself out of my despair. Facing Bryan, who was pretending to regret hitting me.

“Elena, I’m sorry. Earlier, I… didn’t mean to. I’ll never do it again!” Bryan cried with fake tears.

I nodded, pretending to accept it with a blank expression. And Bryan continued his act.

“I just sent your resignation letter to all the cooking schools and associations because of your injury.” He held back a small, triumphant smile. “They all agreed you can’t join anymore.”

My eyes widened. I was truly shocked that Bryan had gone this far.

“Poor you, Elena.” Bryan put on another fake sad face. “But don’t worry, Livia is opening a new restaurant. You can work there. Isn’t that enough to cover your living expenses from now on?”

I nodded stiffly. Trying to look straight at the man I’d loved for five years.

“Alright,” I said softly. “You’re right, I need a job to cover my living expenses.”

Bryan’s smile immediately widened perfectly. “Finally, you understand and aren’t being stubborn.”

Livia arrived, her high heels clacking arrogantly against the floor.

“The restaurant’s opening is the day after tomorrow. You’d better get ready,” the woman said with her chin held high.

The day after tomorrow. My birthday. Livia knew that for sure. And she even wanted to steal it from me.

“Sure,” I nodded weakly. “I’ll do my best for your restaurant.”

The next day, Livia burdened me with such a heavy task. Not cooking, but acting like a waitress. I was told to make coffee for my former subordinates at the association. They were invited. And of course, they hated me.

“Oh, so this is the once-proud star chef, now just a servant,” said a junior member I’d once scolded for cheating at the culinary association.

When she tried my coffee, she spit it all over my shirt. The others laughed while I screamed.

“What are you doing? Clean my shirt!” I shouted furiously.

“Clean it? Who do you think you are?” She laughed. “The coffee’s bitter. It’s awful, what did you put in it? Make another one!”

I almost slapped each of them. But I quickly calmed myself down, telling myself that this would all be over soon.

That evening, Livia assigned me to handle a lot of things. She trusted me so much because I’d done all my work exceptionally well. I’d been playing the role of the repentant, obedient one.

But in reality, I was orchestrating everything.

One by one. Without a single flaw.

First.

I made sure the big screen in the hall, which was supposed to welcome Livia, turned into something that exploded.

Second.

I’ve sprinkled a generous amount of dark red powder into the main sauce. Sudan I. An industrial dye. Not for food. Used in fuel, oil, and plastic. And… strictly banned throughout the European Union because it’s carcinogenic.

If it’s detected even once—it’s not just the dish that gets pulled. The entire restaurant will be immediately sealed off. Their license revoked. Their reputation ruined.

Third.

I sprinkled fine powder from dried lily flowers onto Livia’s dress. I remember she almost fainted from the itching caused by those flowers.

As the morning sun rose, I slipped out alone.

A car was waiting for me right in front of the gate.

Zidane.

He glanced at me briefly through the open window. “Do we need to burn this place down?”

I got in and stared straight ahead. “No need. I already have a plan.”

And we drove off.

A few minutes later, my phone rang. Bryan and Livia’s names flooded the screen. But I didn’t answer.

Until a message came in from Bryan.

[Don’t let our first course be a letdown. If that happens, I promise I won’t forgive you.]

I laughed hollowly at his threat, which seemed silly now.

Ten minutes later, another message popped up.

[The guests have arrived. Where are you? If you mess up, your father in that prison could be in trouble at any moment!]

I chuckled softly.

Ah… they don’t know.

Tomorrow morning, my father will be released.

Free.

And all their threats… mean nothing anymore.