Chapter 24 Crazy little fight
Veronica's POV:
The food on the dinner table looked like something out of a high-end restaurant.
There was perfectly roasted chicken with garlic butter glaze, mashed truffle potatoes on the side, and a bowl of fresh Caesar salad sprinkled with just the right amount of Parmesan.
And right in the center of it all, stood Max — in his ridiculous chef’s hat, arms crossed, smirking. However, despite the ridiculous attire, he looked devilishly handsome as ever.
“Alright, my beautiful guests,” he said, his voice dripping with charisma. “Tonight’s special — Garlic Butter Chicken à la Max. A dish so good, it might just make you fall in love with the chef.”
Theo rolled his eyes, sitting down opposite him. “Please. Don’t oversell your talent. We all know why you’re doing this.”
Max gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Excuse me? I’m doing this out of pure artistic passion, brother. Not everything I do is womenizing… that is just ninety percent of me. Apart from that, I do have ten percent skills.”
I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh. He was unbelievable.
Then, turning to me with that devilish glint in his blue eyes, Max picked up a fork and twirled a perfect piece of roasted chicken on it. “You, Miss Whitmore,” he said, pointing it toward me, “get to taste the magic first.”
“What—no, that’s not necessary,” I said quickly, holding up both hands. “I can serve myself.”
He raised a brow, stepping closer to where I sat. “Oh come on. I’m a passionate chef. You’re insulting my art if you don’t let me feed you.”
I froze, caught completely off guard. “Feed me?” I repeated, my heart suddenly pounding.
“Relax,” he grinned. “I don’t bite… unless you ask nicely.”
Theo groaned. “For the love of God, Max. Just stop bothering her."
But Max ignored him. He leaned closer, holding the fork right near my lips, his tone softening just enough to sound teasingly intimate. “Just one bite,” he whispered. “I promise, it’ll change your life.”
The smell of butter and herbs filled my nose. My pulse skipped. I could feel his presence, which was fiery and dangerous as he got closer to me.
This was so unnecessary. Entirely inappropriate.
And yet, I couldn’t seem to move.
My lips parted slightly — not because I wanted to, but because the aroma of it seemed too impossible to ignore.
Just as the fork was about to reach me—
Theo suddenly leaned forward, snatched the fork from Max’s hand, and popped the bite into his own mouth.
“Mmm,” he said calmly, chewing, looking teasingly up at his older brother. “Tastes like mediocrity.”
Max’s jaw dropped. “You thief!”
Theo only shrugged, wiping his mouth with a napkin with elegance. “Just drop it, bro... This isn't gonna work for you."
“You absolute menace!” Max shouted, laughing as he grabbed another fork. “Nobody touches Chef Max’s masterpiece without my permission!”
Theo smirked, standing to face him across the table. “Permission? You practically shoved it in her face.”
“I call that presentation,” Max defended.
“I call that harassment,” Theo stated.
Their voices overlapped as they started bickering like ten-year-olds, and their words became insults to jokes.
Max flicked a tiny piece of lettuce at Theo, who dodged it easily... and flicked one right back at him.
Now they went too crazy.
Before I knew it, they were throwing bits of food at each other across the dining table like children... and salad leaves, along with tiny potato scoops, and even a bread roll that nearly hit a vase.
“Boys!” I laughed, trying to stand, but I couldn’t stop smiling. “Stop it before one of you breaks something!”
Max grinned, holding a piece of chicken as if it were a weapon. “You heard that, brother? Veronica is taking my side.”
“No she didn't... She is probably freaked out by you,” Theo shot back, snatching a napkin and throwing it at him.
Max ducked. “You’re jealous because I’m fun.”
“And you’re delusional because you think that you are charming,” Theo countered.
Their banter was so much to look at, without giggling.
Two powerful billionaire brothers who, at that moment, looked like bickering kids in their mother’s kitchen.
I laughed so hard that tears pricked my eyes.
Yes, they were fighting, but it was a pillow fight. They were having harmless fun.
It was pure and genuine joy... something that I hadn’t felt in a long time, since I crossed teenage.
Perhaps having siblings was this awesome, even after adulthood... and at that point I was actually jealous of those two.
Watching them made all the heaviness melt away from me, at least for a moment.
Finally, Theo threw up his hands. “Fine! You win, Chef Max. Enjoy your imaginary Michelin star. I can never stoop down to your level in this.”
Max bowed dramatically, grinning ear to ear. “Thank you. I’d like to dedicate this win to my loyal audience... Miss Veronica Whitmore, who believed in my skills before the critics did.”
“Oh my god,” I said, clutching my stomach from laughing. “You’re both crazy.”
Theo looked at me then, smiling sweet as ever. His golden hair had some lettuce that Max probably threw at him, and said, “You see what I deal with every day?”
Max only smirked, leaning casually against the counter, a piece of bread between his teeth. “I made your life interesting, admit it. Otherwise, you have turned dead boring."
Theo only sighed, and I chuckled even more at that.
And as they continued teasing each other, I just sat down there, continued admiring their crazy little fight.
The dinner table now looked a mess, with everything scattered in all places, all the well cooked food now destroyed to mess.
I knew that it would probably take a while to make another dinner, but for now my heart was filled with childish joy which I never thought I would find again, feeling like I was back in kindergarten, five running in my twenty five age.