Page 1 of Grateful Hearts

Chapter One

Chantel Navarro stepped out of the gym, feeling the chill of the early Boston morning settling into her skin. The crisp air was a welcome relief after her spin class, but a strange unease gnawed at her. It was nothing she could pinpoint, just an odd heaviness that clung to her like the fog rolling in over the harbor. She chalked the feeling up to the busy week she had ahead of her.

Being the Executive Chef of a five-star restaurant in Boston kept her busy all year round. Still, the holidays were even busier as they were one of the few restaurants open for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was her responsibility to create a limited but new menu for each occasion.

Chantel was proud of the job she had done in the last three years, as the restaurant had an excellent reputation worldwide. It was hard work, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. She loved being in the kitchen and creating new signature dishes.

All of the dishes served at the restaurant were her original recipes, which she kept guarded with her life. Even Mario, her boss and fiancé, didn’t have access to her recipes. Some of the recipes were passed down in her family, and she added a few secret ingredients to make them her own.

Her relationship with Mario was unique. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that she’d be engaged to her boss. Her late mother would always say to her, “Never shit where you eat.” Chantel had taken her words to heart until Mario swept her off her feet.

Having no family and working twenty-four-seven, she didn’t have much of a life outside of the restaurant. When Mario first asked her out on a date three years ago, she turned him down.But he was persistent, and slowly, he wore her down until she finally said yes. After a year of dating, he proposed, and she said yes. She just wasn’t in a rush to walk down the aisle, which is why they were still engaged and not married. She knew that Mario had hoped for a quick wedding, but she just wasn’t ready. So far, it had all worked out. They were both happy, and they kept their relationship private. While at the restaurant, she was just an employee.

She zipped up her warm-up jacket as she walked toward her apartment. As she walked, she thought about everything she needed to do. The most important thing was finalizing the Thanksgiving Day menu since it was only five days away.

As she ticked through her task list, she remembered that she needed to swing by Mario’s penthouse to pick up the bag that she had left there a few nights ago.

She looked at her watch. It was almost nine. Most likely, Mario would still be asleep since he was out late the previous night with an investor who was interested in partnering with him to expand the restaurant.

She decided to swing by his place and surprise him with breakfast in bed. He had given her a key to his place when they got engaged, trusting her with access to his space. That was the one thing she respected about Mario. He was a very private person.

When she got to his building, the doorman smiled and greeted her as he let her up. After she made it up to the twentieth floor, she unlocked the door quietly and stepped inside the luxurious penthouse. The scent of freshly laundered sheets and Mario’s cologne lingered in the air. It was familiar and comforting, yet today, there was a strange tension that made her pause. She spotted her bag sitting near the dining room table, right where she’d left it.

As she bent down to pick it up, the sound of a woman’s giggle stopped her cold. Chantel was frozen in place, her fingers tightened around the leather strap of her bag. Suddenly, a low moan followed the giggle, echoing from the direction of the master bedroom.

Chantel’s heart hammered in her chest as her mind began to spin.No, It can’t be.She thought to herself. She stood there, rooted to the spot, trying to convince herself that she was imagining things, that her mind was playing tricks on her. But deep down, she already knew what she was about to find.

The moans grew louder, more insistent, and then she heard Mario’s voice. “God, you feel so good. That’s it, Tatiana, ride me, baby.”

Chantel’s stomach churned, the ache spreading through her chest, making it hard to breathe.

She willed herself to move. Each step toward the bedroom felt like it was happening in slow motion. The closer she got, the louder the sounds became from both Mario and the woman. It all crashed over her like waves of dread.

When she reached the door, her hand trembled. For a moment, she stood there, hand on the doorknob, terrified to fling it open. She knew what she was going to see, but some part of her still clung to hope. Maybe it wasn’t what it seemed.

But then she heard Mario’s voice again, thick with lust, praising the woman in his bed. And something inside Chantel snapped.

Without another thought, she pushed the door open. It opened with such force it hit the wall with a loud bang.

There they were, Mario and some blonde with big boobs, tangled together in the sheets. The woman was on top of him. Her back was arched as her moans filled the room while Mario’s hands gripped her hips. His eyes were closed in pleasure.

The scene hit Chantel like a physical blow, the devastation in her chest nearly knocking her off her feet. Mario’s eyes snapped open when the door slammed into the wall. He froze and, in the same breath, pushed the woman off him like she was nothing more than a mistake he could easily discard.

“Oh Fuck! Chantel! This isn’t what it looks like—”

“Isn’t what it looks like?” Chantel’s voice was cold, foreign to her own ears. “What exactly is it then, Mario?” Her words cracked with the weight of betrayal, tears stinging her eyes.

The woman scrambled to cover herself with the sheets, her wide eyes darting between Chantel and Mario. Mario leaped out of the bed, grabbing a blanket to cover his naked self. He stumbled toward Chantel, his hands out as if that could somehow fix everything.

“I swear, Chantel, it didn’t mean anything.”

But Chantel wasn’t listening anymore. The sight of them together had shattered something deep within her. There was no coming back from this. She clutched her bag tighter, her body moving before her mind caught up. She turned on her heel, heading for the door, trying to escape the nightmare unfolding in front of her.

“Chantel, wait! Please!” Mario pleaded as he rushed after her. He grabbed her arm as she tried to leave. “Don’t go like this, we need to talk.”

His touch was too much. A white-hot fury rose up inside her, and before she could think, she turned and slapped him across the face with all the strength she had. The sharp crack echoed through the room.

Mario’s hand flew to his cheek, stunned, his eyes wide. “Chantel—”

---