MADISON'S POV
Clara's Cooking Studio was founded by Clara Jones, a woman in her late fifties better known as Madam Clara. Her classes were famous among the elite—not just for the gourmet techniques, but also for the high price tag. Only women from high society could afford it.
I had discovered that my soon-to-be mother-in-law spent most of her free time there, so I signed up for a membership, hoping to get a private moment with her. Today was the day I'd face her;my hardest challenge yet.
I stood in the mall, nervously adjusting my modest business attire. The studio was on the top floor, and I took the elevator, calming my nerves as I went up.
When I arrived, I stepped in quietly and immediately caught the tail end of a conversation that I knew would trigger Richard's mother.
Woman 1: "What do you think? My daughter-in-law keeps buying these beautiful, expensive rings and jewelry for me."
Woman 2: "Wow, it's stunning. She has good taste."
Woman 1: "Right? I owe it all to Madam Clara,she introduced her to my son."
Madam Clara: "I just set them up for a date."
Woman 1: "Still, I'm so grateful. And to Madam Jane too. If her second son hadn't rejected her, she wouldn't have become my daughter-in-law."
I clenched my fists. That comment was meant for Richard's mother—Madam Jane. Just as I was about to step in, she responded.
Mrs. Jane: "What did you just say?"
Woman 1: "I mean, I'm thankful your son rejected her. Now she's with my son. And your son's fallen for some adopted girl from who knows where. He won't even listen to you anymore. I can't imagine being in your shoes."
Even from where I stood, I could feel Jane's rising fury.
Mrs. Jane: "Did you just insult my son?"
Woman 1 (sarcastically): "Of course not. I just pity you."
Mrs. Jane: "Shall I give you something else to feel sorry about?"
She grabbed a kitchen utensil and launched at the woman, starting a commotion. Other members and Madam Clara rushed to break up the fight.
That was my cue. I stepped forward.
"I see I'm already famous here," I said, drawing all eyes.
Madam Clara: "And who might you be? Are you here for the interview?"
"Yes," I nodded.
—
Side note: To join Clara's elite class, you had to pass an interview.
The class ended for the day, and it was time for mine. But as much as I tried to stay composed, it still stung that Mrs. Jane walked past me without even a glance.
Madam Clara looked at me skeptically. "Don't tell me you're here just to learn how to cook. Things will be awkward between you and Madam Jane."
"I'm here to avoid that," I replied.
She chuckled, amused. "So, you're here to win over your boyfriend's mother? That has nothing to do with cooking."
I nodded, determined. "I heard this is where marriages between political and business families are often… arranged. So yes, I believe I've come to the right place. And honestly, I do need to learn to cook."
Growing up, my family never let me near the kitchen. I could barely boil water. After the incident, I had relied on packaged food.
"Alright then," she said. "Show me what you brought."
I reached into my bag and handed her a small painting I'd done.
She looked at it, puzzled. "I said bring something you made with your hands."
"I did. It didn't say it had to be food."
"You brought a painting?" she asked, raising a brow.
"I'm sorry. It's the only thing I'm good at. I was hoping you'd accept it,as a bribe."
"I don't do bribes," she said, but then pulled some money from her purse and placed it gently in my palm. "So I'll buy it. I hate feeling indebted."
"Thank you. So… does this mean I'm accepted?"
She smiled. "Twice a week. Wednesdays and Fridays. 4 p.m. to 6 p.m." She extended her hand, and I shook it.
—
As I was leaving, I spotted Mrs. Jane waiting for me in the lobby. I approached and bowed slightly in respect.
"This cooking class is expensive. So you're clearly not here just to learn how to cook," she said. "Miss Madison, do you have time for a cup of tea?"
We headed to a café in the mall. To my surprise, she had already reserved a private room and had invited Sophia.
We sat in silence, waiting for the inevitable interrogation. I excused myself to the restroom, and as I was washing my hands, Sophia walked in beside me, retouching her makeup.
"You should keep a poker face," she said. "We don't want anyone to know we hate each other."
"Why should I pretend I don't hate you?" I replied. "I don't want to be fake. But go ahead,you've always been good at that."
Her mouth fell open, speechless, as I turned off the tap, dried my hands, and walked out.
A few minutes later, she returned with a tray of coffee. She set a cup in front of Jane.
"I heard you like Viennese coffee, so I ordered it for you," she said sweetly.
"Thank you," Jane replied, taking a sip.
Sophia placed another cup before me. "Here's your cappuccino, Madison. Still hot."
I ignored her. I was here for Richard's mother,not her.
Mrs. Jane noticed the tension. "Are you two on bad terms?"
Sophia rushed to answer, "No, we…"
"Yes. We're not exactly on good terms," I said, cutting her off.
Jane nodded slowly. "Well, it's a family matter. I won't interfere. But… two sisters fighting over the same man? It doesn't look good. Why don't you give up, Madison? Sophia was the one meant to meet Richard. She's on his level. Wouldn't it be graceful if you stepped aside?"
I caught the mockery in Sophia's eyes.
"I understand," I said calmly. "But I've never conceded to Sophia before."
"Really? You don't seem like the selfish type."
"Nothing in that house ever truly belonged to me."
"Sis, what are you saying? You'll give Madam Jane the wrong idea," Sophia said, nervously.
I continued, ignoring her. "I understand your point, ma'am. But I don't think either of us giving up will solve anything. Maybe we should ask Richard who he wants to be with. And… if I may request, please don't invite Sophia next time."
Her smile faded. "Are you always this impolite?"
Before I could answer, a familiar voice spoke up.
"You're the one being impolite, Mother—not her."
We turned to see Richard standing by the door, disappointment in his eyes.
"What the hell is going on here?" he asked as he walked in.
"W…What are you doing here, son? Did she call you?" Jane asked, looking at me.
"No. I didn't," I said quickly.
"She didn't. I came to pick you up cause your driver's on leave. And now I'm glad I did."
He grabbed my hand to help me up, but I gently pulled away, worried about making things worse.
"I can't believe this," his mother said. "She comes here to see me, and now you're defending her like I'm the problem."
"Mom, that's not…"
"I'm sorry for coming unannounced," I said, cutting in. "I thought you might understand where I'm coming from. After all, you married against your parents' wishes too."
"That's not true," she snapped. "He was divorced with a child. I'd never married before. I was beautiful, feisty, and we married for love. But you? You broke off an engagement. You're nowhere near Richard's level. Do you know how many women throw themselves at him? How do I know you're not one of them? Do you even love him?"
I froze.
After being given a second chance at life, I'd sworn never to love again. All I wanted was revenge.
"You say you want to marry him, but you can't even answer."
"I broke off my engagement because I was betrayed. They were using me for money, for connections," I said, glancing at Sophia. "I told myself I'd never love again. But then… I met Richard."
I looked at him. His eyes held something I couldn't quite place,but it vanished just as quickly.
"At least I thought,this man won't betray a woman. And even if he did… he has a feisty mother who won't let him get away with it."
Jane blinked.
I stood, bowed slightly. "I apologize for today. I hope to meet you again,Mother."
Richard took my hand in his and led me out of the cafè