The Million-Dollar Heart novel Chapter 940

Sasha was about to add more to the conversation when Vivienne's gaze landed on the cake in her hand.

She hadn't tried this flavor before, and though she was sure it wouldn't beat a slice of good old apple pie, being picky at a moment like this seemed downright immature.

Sasha quickly hid it behind her back.

She'd already had her share, why was she still eyeing hers?

Seeing Arthur wouldn't be out of the kitchen anytime soon, Sasha shot Percival a look, silently assigning him a critical mission.

To keep watch.

As the two of them were enjoying their sneaky treat, Arthur emerged from the kitchen, a tray in hand, his voice booming excitedly from afar, “Honey, darling, breakfast is served! Today we’ve got beef stew with homemade biscuits…”

Sasha nearly choked.

Vivienne decisively swallowed her last bite.

Percival calmly stepped forward to greet Arthur, cleverly blocking his view.

“Who let you in?”

Arthur frowned, clearly displeased, “And keep it down. My daughter isn’t married to you yet; don’t get too cozy.”

Arthur took a step towards Sasha and Vivienne’s direction.

Percival tried to intervene again, but Sasha had already come forward, crumbs still lingering at the corner of her mouth.

Arthur noticed immediately and leaned in, curious, “Honey, what did you eat?”

Caught off guard, Sasha pursed her lips, trying to sound casual, “...I was just really hungry, had a biscuit.”

Arthur was filled with guilt, blaming his slow pace for leaving his wife famished.

“Honey, breakfast is ready, let’s go eat.”

Then, the cake box Sasha had been hiding fell from behind the chair, rolling to Arthur's feet.

Vivienne: It wasn’t on purpose!

Arthur froze, looking at Sasha with a mix of hurt and betrayal, “Honey, you…”

Sasha shot Vivienne a glare before soothing Arthur, “Hubby, let me explain. You have to believe in yourself; your cooking is truly a gift. I was just…”

In a crucial moment, Percival took the blame, “It’s not the master’s fault. I accidentally made too much and wanted the master to give it a taste.”

Arthur’s annoyance immediately shifted towards Percival.

“I know what my wife likes, and I’ll cook it for her. You, mind your own business. Come on, wife and daughter, let’s go in.”

Percival’s casual remark stopped them in their tracks, “No offense, but perhaps, the dishes you make aren’t exactly to the master’s and Vivienne’s taste.”

Arthur paused, turning with a cold expression, “What do you mean?”

Percival sincerely stated, “They’re not good!”

Arthur’s face darkened, “Are you saying you’re better than me?”

Percival just smiled, not contradicting the statement.

Knowing he was being provoked, Arthur couldn’t let it slide. Not in front of his wife and daughter.

“Then let’s have a competition!”

Sasha quickly interjected, aware of her husband’s culinary skills—or lack thereof.

The praises were hers alone to give, “Let’s not, dear. Percival is my apprentice; if word gets out, people will say you’re bullying the younger generation.”

Arthur patted Sasha’s hand, reassuring her. He had been practicing.

Sasha thought, precisely because of all the practice, she couldn’t bear to tell him the truth.

Percival raised an eyebrow, “You sure you want to compete? Just think if you lose…”

Arthur, spurred on, cut him off, “Enough talk, let’s do this.”