The Paper Wife’s Empire novel Chapter 80

Just now, while Ramona was chatting with Florence, the conversation drifted to stories from Ethan’s childhood.

Ethan’s mother had passed away when he was very young, and his father was always busy with work. He grew up without anyone to really care for him.

Later, Florence, feeling sorry for the lonely boy, brought him overseas. But only a few years later, Phineas fell seriously ill, and Ethan had to be sent to live with relatives.

Florence once said that was the decision she regretted most in her life. Ethan’s personality turned cold after that, and it was clear that difficult period had left its mark.

The relative, jealous of Ethan’s background, treated him terribly. He rarely had enough to eat, even into adulthood. When Florence finally saw him again, he was little more than skin and bones.

Listening to Florence, Ramona realized how much her understanding of Ethan had changed. He wasn’t some pampered rich kid—he was a boy who’d grown up lonely, just like her.

As a child, Ramona used to wish she could eat a meal cooked by her family, even if it wasn’t delicious.

She knew that feeling all too well, which was why she wanted to cook for Ethan.

Ethan glanced at the time. “The chef’s gone home for the night. If we want anything to eat, I guess we’ll have to make it ourselves. But you’ve been working all day. Aren’t you tired?”

“Not really. As long as it’s nothing too complicated, I can manage.”

Ramona’s voice was soft, but she rolled up her sleeves, eager to get started.

It had been ages since she’d cooked for anyone, and she actually felt a little excited.

Ethan’s villa was spacious, with several dining rooms. There was a small kitchen just off the living room, usually used by the staff for late-night snacks. The kitchen was fully stocked—everything prepped and ready, which made things much easier.

Ramona asked Ethan what kind of food he liked. He shrugged, “Anything. Whatever you’re good at.”

She nodded, remembering Ethan didn’t have much of a sweet tooth. She hesitated, then asked if he could handle spicy food.

He paused for a second, and she nodded knowingly, “Alright, I got it, no sweets and nothing spicy for Mr. Jordon.”

“A little is fine,” Ethan said.

He wasn’t picky, but it was true—he didn’t care for anything too strong.

Ramona didn’t press further. She tied on an apron and got to work.

The kitchen was half open, so Ethan could watch her moving around, busy and focused. He found himself unable to look away.

Suddenly, he understood why those two old busybodies in his family always worried about his marriage.

In families like the Jordon’s, feelings always came second to interests. His parents had split up before he was even born. In the Jordon household, only his grandparents had truly loved each other, staying together for nearly a lifetime.

“Of course,” Ramona laughed softly, her delicate features brightening. “I never hold back when it comes to my real friends.”

“If your friends get treated so well, wouldn’t being your husband be even better?”

His words were calm and casual, but Ramona’s hand froze with the fork halfway to the table.

Ethan didn’t look at her, just took a bite of the food. “It tastes good,” he added.

Ramona snapped back to herself. “As long as you like it, Mr. Jordon. But compared to a Michelin chef, my cooking’s nothing special.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Ms. Jarrett. It’s delicious, really.”

Seeing how much he ate, Ramona felt a quiet sense of satisfaction.

After dinner, Ethan seemed to remember something. “By the way, the other morning your phone was with me. A man called and I picked up.”

He meant Jotham. It had slipped Ethan’s mind to tell her, what with work being so busy.

Ramona immediately recalled Jotham’s interrogation. So the ‘man’ Jotham mentioned—that had been Ethan.