Page 1 of Spice and Revenge

Chapter One

Lorena

“We’re here,” the cab driver announces as the car comes to a slow stop. But he doesn’t have to tell me, because I already see the large gates of the estate before us.

Nobody else in Sicily could own such a grand building except for the Vitale family.

“These Vitale,” I hear the driver grunt. “They don’t let cabs into the compound. Who do they even think they are?” His voice sounds bitter.

I have a feeling he doesn’t like them very much. Seconds later, he confirms my thoughts. “I applied for a driver role here last year. It was given to someone whom I’m very much more qualified than,” he says.

It seems like someone is holding a grudge.

“Yeah, okay,” I drawl, pushing the car door open. “Thank you.”

“Good luck,” the driver says, eyeing me with an empty gaze. “You’re going to need it for whatever you’re going to do inside there.” I shiver at his words before stepping down from the car.

My flats crunch against the concrete floor as I drag my suitcase behind me. As I approach the giant gates, a middle-aged man in a security uniform approaches me.

“I am Lorena Romano, the new chef,” I introduce myself to him. He looks at something on his tablet screen before looking at me again. I glance down and realize it’s a picture of me, the one on my portfolio.

“Come,” he grunts before leading me to the gates. He gestures to another man in the security tower, and the gate slides open.

I already knew that the Vitale family is the richest in Sicily, but nothing prepared me for how magnificent their home would be. The estate is massive, a tall, magnificent building. The roads leading to the house are lined with tall trees that sway in the wind.

“We have to search your bag,” he says, pointing at my large suitcase. Okay. I was not informed about this. However, I give him my suitcase.

I just hope he won’t go through my underwear section. He takes the bag from me and enters the security room. I chuckle inwardly as he runs the bag through an X-ray scanner.

Of course, they have a freaking scanner. Why would I think he would search my bag manually? And who the hell has an X-ray scanner in their home? Those things are only reserved for airports.

“All good. Follow me,” he grunts again.

I run my hands down the front of my dress, inhaling a shaky breath. I follow him as he leads me to a golf cart.

I admire the rest of the surroundings as he drives me to the main building. As we approach the front, I see a tall, middle-aged woman standing on the front porch.

The cart comes to a stop and we both come down. Taking my suitcase, he walks to the front door while I trail behind him.

The woman steps forward to meet us. Her head is held high, and her greying hair is pulled back into a simple bun. She is dressed neatly in a plain black dress and matching black pumps. As she strides forward, confident and poised, her shoes click on the concrete floors.

“Thank you, Emilio,” she says, her voice low but with a hint of authority. “You may leave now,” she adds after a moment before turning back to face me, her expression unreadable. He nods stiffly before leaving. She waits until he vanishes from view before introducing herself.

“I am Nina, the head of house affairs,” she says, stretching her hand out for a handshake. “And you must be Lorena.”

“Yes, I am,” I say, offering a small smile. A young man I didn’t notice was with her comes forward and takes my suitcase from me. “Take it to her room,” Nina says to him, before turning to me. “Come this way, please.”

With that, she turns and walks away, heading towards the entrance of the house. I follow closely as she leads me through the impressive entrance hall, its marble floors gleaming under the soft glow of the chandeliers.

“This is the formal living room, adorned with exquisite antique furniture and delicate tapestries. It's where the family comes together for meetings or important gatherings,” she says.

The living room is massive and beautiful. The high ceiling has intricate designs of carved wood, with a crystal chandelier hanging from it. Glass furniture sparkles under the bright lights.

The paintings on the wall look expensive enough to pay for the entirety of my culinary school fees. At the opposite end of the living room is a staircase spiraling upward to the second floor.

I follow Nina as she guides me through the dining room. The dining table is long and could hold up to twenty guests. It is set with fine china and pretty silverware.

We step into the grand kitchen, and my mouth almost salivates at the sight of it. The granite countertops are smooth and glossy, gleaming with polished quartz.

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