Page 2 of Spice and Revenge

A magnificent marble island takes center stage, perfectly complementing the custom cabinetry carved with an intricate design that matches the cabinets around the room.

There’s a white gas stove with six burners and a square-shaped electric stove with a ceramic top, as well as a top-of-the-line induction cooktop and professional-grade gas range stand ready for action.

My hands twitch with excitement as I take in the rest of the appliances in the room. I'm impressed by its sheer luxury.

The room is equipped with cutting-edge appliances, like a smart refrigerator with a touchscreen that obviously has voice command features and a sleek built-in espresso machine.

Cooking here will definitely be fun, and great for making content.

“This is the heart of the house, where your culinary magic will unfold. It's fully equipped with state-of-the-art appliances and enough space for you to work. You will also have sous-chefs assist you in preparing these meals,” Nina says, letting me digest the scenery before me.

After that, she leads me to the grand library, and then we move towards the stairs. As we reach the upper floor, Nina leads me past several doors to my bedroom.

“This will be your bedroom. We have furnished it with a few necessities. We want you to feel at home here.”

I can't help but express my gratitude. “Thank you so much for showing me around. The house is simply breathtaking, and my bedroom is more than I could have imagined.”

Nina’s smile is guarded as she says, “The tour isn’t over yet. Follow me.”

As we both walk down the stairs, she begins to speak again, her expression now serious. “Before we proceed further, there are important things you need to know. I am sure you already know that the boss, Mr. Vitale, has a reputation for being not just strict but also quite demanding.”

I nod in agreement, my mind flashing back to the extensive research I did before applying. The Vitale household wasn't for the faint of heart. Turnover rates were sky-high, thanks to the strict standards that workers must uphold. Many chefs had been unceremoniously shown the door for failing to meet expectations.

I’m guessing that’s one of the reasons I was chosen relatively without competition.

I was so sure they had made a mistake when their call came in because I didn’t believe they would pick me, a chef with less than five years' experience and no Sicilian roots, over countless homebred, seasoned professionals.

But perhaps luck was on my side, because here I am, receiving my first briefing, and so far, so good. At least, I hope so.

Nina continues, her words measured. “One of his rules is that every meal should be served precisely on time,” she emphasizes. “He values punctuality above all else and expects every dish to be ready at the exact moment he expects it.”

We walk into the living room as she continues.

“You are expected to use only the freshest ingredients to prepare your meals. We have a gardener who sources this local produce daily from our garden and the local fresh food market. We also have a personal shopper who comes twice a week, and when he arrives, we will get you acquainted.”

Nina goes on with a stern tone, her brows furrowing. “And experimentation on meals is strongly discouraged. The Vitaleprefer classic recipes and traditional Sicilian cuisine. That's non-negotiable, but I am sure you already know this,”

I nod, recalling the interview where this was drilled into me. “Yes, I do,” I reply, trying to match her seriousness.

“Good. It was the main reason the last chef was fired. He kept messing up the Sicilian dishes.”

Damn, this is starting to feel more like a prison sentence than a job, I think with an inward groan. But due to my anonymous influencing, I haven’t been able to get any real endorsement deals lately. Who wants to partner with a ghost? I was running short of money, and if I didn’t take up something fast, I’d be back to square one.

“There is a strict dress code for staff members,” the woman continues. “He always insists on a formal and professional appearance. You'll be expected to wear a chef's uniform and maintain a polished and presentable appearance throughout your working hours.”

I am not shocked by this information. Every housekeeper I have met since I got here, including Nina, is dressed impeccably. It almost feels like an office instead of a home.

“Lastly, discretion is highly valued. As a live-in chef, you will have access to the family's private lives. It's vital to maintain confidentiality and respect their privacy at all times.”

As we step into a smaller adjoining room after the living room, we are met with a line of staff members, all looking at me with smiling faces.

“Attention, everyone!” Nina says. “I would like to introduce our new live-in chef, Lorena. Please give her a warm welcome.”

Unlike Nina, who is formal and reserved, the rest of the houseworkers seem friendly. They all smile and wave at me. I feel the tension on my shoulders ease a little bit.

I listen attentively, trying to keep up with all their names as Nina introduces all of them. Enzo, the butler. Rosa, Luca, and Maria, the housekeepers. Antonio, the gardener.

I am unable to keep up as Nina introduces the rest of the staff, including the housekeeping assistants and maintenance personnel. Each person warmly welcomes me with smiles on their faces.

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