Don’t come to complain later.

The team of chefs stood in a line, their expression a blend of awe and nervousness. None dared to breathe too loudly, let alone move, as they watched Aiden command the kitchen with an air of practised ease. 

His tailored shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms that fleed with each confident move. Every movement was deliberate, precise and swift, as though he had spent years perfecting the art of cooking.

The more Alexander, the head chef, watched him, the more he felt impressed. Though he had seen many skilled chefs mastering the field of culinary arts, for some reason seeing a man like Aiden do it with such ease hit differently. 

"Mr. Jones," Alexander whispered, breaking his own rule of silence in the kitchen, "did the young master have any culinary training before?" His tone was clearly laced with a deep interest.