Betrayed I Upgraded to His Billionaire Brother novel Chapter 194

**TITLE: Pushing the Edge 194**
**Chapter 194**

I paused for a fleeting moment, genuinely contemplating his question. “Do you truly want the truth?” I asked, my tone sincere.

His response was immediate and sharp, “Why wouldn’t I?”

With a casual shrug, I replied, “Well, it might not matter much. If it’s someone you’re fond of, you’d probably rave about it—even if they accidentally set the kitchen on fire.”

In essence, if the person in question was someone you didn’t care for, even a chef with three Michelin stars would simply be… just a chef. You’d only offer polite compliments about their culinary skills.

Gavin, in a moment of honesty, confessed, “I didn’t make it.”

“Catering?” I inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Something along those lines,” he replied, a hint of mischief in his voice.

I nodded, feeling the need to acknowledge his effort. “But that breakfast you whipped up last time was really impressive.”

He shifted slightly, his gaze dropping. “I learned to make tamagoyaki a long time ago.”

I froze, a flicker of suspicion igniting in my heart. But I had never been one to shy away from questions. Looking directly at him, I asked, “Did… did you only learn to make that one dish?”

“Yep.” His response came without a moment’s hesitation, yet there was a playful lightness in his tone. He smirked, a blend of nonchalance and teasing. “Did it just for you, little princess. Are you happy now?”

“…” I could see the playful glint in his eyes, and it was clear he was just having fun at my expense.

If I took his words too seriously, I knew he’d burst into laughter at my expense.

Instead of responding, I simply washed my hands and made my way into the kitchen to gather some utensils.

Gavin, leaning back in a dining chair with his arms crossed, chimed in, “They’re in the dishwasher.”

I bent down to rummage through a lower cabinet, replying, “Okay.”

As I searched through his kitchen, a sudden thought struck him—he didn’t want me to leave. The atmosphere felt like home, and he wished to hold onto this moment.

Emerging from the cabinet with two sets of bowls and chopsticks, I was about to take a seat across from him when he unexpectedly pulled out the chair right next to his. “Sit here.”

It felt oddly intimate, like we were a cozy couple sharing a meal together.

Constrained by the unspoken rules of our contract, I settled down without uttering a word and began to eat.

After a few bites, the flavor hit me with a wave of familiarity. “This taste… it feels like I’ve experienced it somewhere before?”

He glanced at me, an eyebrow raised. “Doesn’t everything taste the same?”

I pondered for a moment. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Just eat,” he instructed, a hint of impatience in his voice.

As I chewed, I couldn’t help but notice the way my cheeks puffed out slightly with each bite, a soft amusement flickering in his dark eyes.

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