Chapter 392
It Belongs to a Client He would have needed to prepare a few simple dishes or some fried eggs.
After punching the code on the keypad to open the door, Silas entered and made his way straight
to the kitchen as usual. However, today, he noticed a familiar figure in the kitchen and looked
pleasantly surprised. Is this woman preparing breakfast?
He increased his pace to walk toward the kitchen.
It was most probably due to the humming of the cooker hood that she did not realize him walking
toward her.
When Silas took a good look of Camila, he was about to burst in laughter for the weirdest reason
because she was in full gear-she had her glasses and her mask on while wearing a pair of gloves on
top of being equipped with an apron as well. She held a spatula while flipping the fried egg in the
pan tentatively. The most observant element was that she seemed to have invested her energy
because the fried egg was in a heart shape that was held in place by a curved sliced sausage.
The longer he stared at her, the more he wanted to laugh. She doesnât even know how to cook, but
sheâs trying out the tricky stuff. She is the typical kind of student, who is eager to run before they
can even walk.
From the corner of Silas's eyes, he noticed that there were a handful of sausages on the cutting
board, which had been sliced through. It seemed that Camila had dedicated a lot of work to achieve
three heart-shaped fried eggs.
Furthermore, it seemed as if she had crushed an egg because there were remnants of the eggâs
amniotic fluid on the board. Naturally, he turned to steal a glance at the trash can, and true enough,
there were some broken eggshells in there. Just then, the fried egg sizzled and sent some oil in
Camilaâs direction, shocking her until she took a few steps backward. She stared fixedly at the fried
eggs and looked like she was ready to fight someone. Finally, Silas burst out in laughter and
frightened her. She turned abruptly to face him. âY-Y-You scared me! When did you come in?" He
chuckled while leaning against the doorframe. âI just arrived. Why are you cooking?"? *
She answered innocently, âI can't always be eating breakfast that you've prepared for me, can I?
Look, donât you think my heart-shaped fried eggs look good?â Although the fried eggs in the pan
were slightly burned, she looked gleeful while pointing at it. He nodded. âIt's not bad at all.â
Her clothing could have been an overkill and the kitchen was clearly in a mess, but it
was undeniable that he was moved by her sincerity.
Silas entered the kitchen while trying to take the spatula from her. âHand it to me.â
Camila objected hastily, âNo, no need. I'm done now. You should wake South up for breakfast.â
He cackled while gently holding her head. Then, he kissed the exposed part of her forehead while
quickly acknowledging her. âSure, but you should be careful. Avoid being splattered by the oil.â She
replied, âOkay, I'm done.â Silas turned to make his way to South's bedroom. Upon entering the
bedroom, the first thing he saw was the child in bed. South was curled up with his pouted lips
underneath the quilt. His breathing was steady, apparent that he was still asleep. While glancing
around the room, Silas caught sight of a suit hanging in the wardrobe. He was astounded when he
saw that.
In all honesty, he was already bewildered because he just couldn't locate his lost suit from a few
days ago. However, the suit showed up out of nowhere the next day. Hence, he disregarded the
matter because he thought that his eyes could have been playing tricks on him. Nevertheless, he
was now almost sure that a âthiefâ was involved. Furthermore, it was most probably the same one
who stole his heart.
Silas moved forward to caress the suit while checking its style. If my guess is correct, the little
woman must have prepared this suit for me.
He continued to stroke the suit as his lips subconsciously curled into a faint smile. Just when he
smiled like a fool, Camila's voice hissed from the door. âDon't touch that!â
âWhat? Whose is this?" He was shocked. Isn't this for me?
Camila answered without letting anything away. âIt belongs to a client and it's an urgent one. I'm
afraid that I might not be able to complete some details, so I brought it home.â
Silas felt as if someone threw a bucket of cold water at him. His once racing heart immediately
calmed down. It turns out that this belongs to a client.