ALESSANDRO’SPOVIchewed on the beef steak before me, trying to focus on dinner and keep thoughtsof Victoria out of my mind. However, nothing seemed as good as it used to be.Even my meal tasted wrong. It wasn’t the worst steak I’d ever eaten, but Iwasn’t feeling any satisfaction.Alreadyin a foul mood, the inadequate food made it worse. When I tasted the mashedpotatoes, I became enraged enough to throw my plate on the floor.Myhead housekeeper, Sofia, rushed to me in horror with two maids trailing her. She’dbeen our housekeeper since childhood, so she knew everything that went on inthe mansion. “Young master, what happened?” she asked with wide eyes.“Whathappened?” I yelled. “The food is what happened. Is there a new chef? Didn’tyou check his credentials?” Sofiapeered at the mess on the floor and ordered the maids to clean it, then lookedup at me and shook her head. “Young master, there’s been no change. Martin is thechef, as always. And his cooking hasn’t changed, eit
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