Oops My Toyboy Is A Hidden Tycoon
My Toyboy 176

Chapter

176

Nina was trying to convince herself, but deep down, she knew Jonathan wasn't into her romantically.

She wondered if it was because she hadn't confessed her feelings. Maybe they just hadn't faced the unspoken truth between them. She wasn't sure if Jonathan truly cared.

Nina and Alex were cooking right beside Cynthia and her friends, so they could see each other's every move. Instead of brushing off Alex, Nina put on a smile.

"Alex, can you make Pork Chops?" she asked. It was her favorite dish, and Jonathan knew it. Back in Betrico, he'd often take her to an old restaurant for the best Pork Chops. Those were some of their best memories. Nina glanced at Jonathan. Sure enough, his gaze swept over to them. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his deep-set eyes seemed a bit unhappy.

Seeing Jonathan's expression, Nina felt a bit more at ease. She thought Jonathan did care about her. She felt like a child who'd just gotten a treat. She picked up an apron and said, "Alex, let me tie this for you.

Alex saw right through Nina's play, but he was happy to play along. Jonathan watched with a frown for a moment, then turned his head away.

Cynthia was staring blankly at the pile of ingredients in front of her. Cooking was definitely not her thing. She had many interests growing up and learned new skills quickly, but cooking was never one of them. She almost never ventured into the kitchen.

At Greenfield Villa, she once decided to make noodles and nearly set the kitchen on fire. Since then, she'd stayed out of the kitchen.

Jonathan walked over to Cynthia and casually asked, "Is there anything you feel like eating?"

Cynthia glanced at him, "Chicken cacciatore. Can you make that?"

Jonathan's expression stayed calm, his voice steady. "Let's make that then."

Cynthia was taken aback. She knew chicken cacciatore was complicated. She thought, 'Is Jonathan really going to make it?

Jonathan didn't hesitate and said, "You can assist me."

Meanwhile, Abby and Preston were also picking out ingredients. Abby was really hungry, but she didn't feel like having any chicken, duck, or fish. Seeing flour, cream, and various fruits, she had an idea, "Preston, let's make a cake!"

Preston immediately turned down Abby's suggestion and instead picked out a live star eel from the seafood selection. His eyes sparkled with excitement: "Let's make grilled eel instead, what do you think?"

Preston hoisted the star eel, and Abby's face drained of color. The writhing eel brought back memories of the snake, and Abby's mouth filled with a bitter taste. She felt her salivary glands kick into overdrive, and she spun around to vomit again. The live chat exploded.

[Preston's doing this on purpose! First the snake ham, now this eel. This is bullying, and Abby's fans won't stand for it.]

[Preston, get off the show! We're boycotting you online!]

[Guys, calm down, I still want to see Mr. Bennett make chicken cacciatore.]

[Cynthia has no idea what she's doing. The way she's handling that knife, it's like she's about to go

town on

someone.]

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II kind of ship Alex and Nina]

Everyone was prepping their ingredients. For the chicken cacciatore, Jonathan gathered chicken, seafood, and an array of vegetables.

Cynthia, not a cook by any means but confident with a knife, grabbed a large kitchen knife and headed to the cutting board. She picked up a chicken, ready to chop, when Jonathan stopped her. "What are you doing?" he asked, alarmed.

"Helping," Cynthia replied, frowning.

"You don't need to do this. Just get me some firewood," Jonathan said.

Cynthia huffed, "What are you worried about? I'm chopping chicken, not you."

"I'm not worried you're going to chop me," Jonathan retorted.

But Cynthia wasn't listening. She nudged Jonathan aside, spun the cleaver in her hand, and went to work. Sparks flew.

Five minutes later, Jonathan stared in disbelief at the cutting board. The chicken was perfectly deboned, skinned, and diced into neat little pieces.

[Wow! Cynthia's knife skills are insane, she must have practiced on more than just vegetables.]

[She's so cool! I'd let her slice me any day.]

[Chicken: If I'd known I was going to get diced this well, I'd have stayed an egg.]

[Mr. Bennett's eyes are about to pop out of his head. I have the same expression.]

Jonathan was indeed surprised, but he quickly hid it. "Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked.

He knew Cynthia had a range of skills-making perfume, playing chess, dancing, even boxing-but her knife work was unexpected. He wondered, 'What exactly was she learning this for?' Cynthia replied coolly, "None of your business."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at Cynthia. "I said to cut the chicken into pieces, not strip it to the bone."

Cynthia had deboned the chicken with a single, smooth motion, following the bone structure perfectly. It was impressive, but also a bit unsettling. The strange thrill on her face while deboning was something new to him. Cynthia paused, realization dawning on her. 'Oh, right. Just chop it. She flushed a little, embarrassed. "Sorry, I got a bit carried away."

Her eyes lit up as she looked at Jonathan. "Anything else need cutting?"

Over at Ethan's station, he was busy frying meatballs, deftly scooping seasoned meat with a spoon and dropping it into the hot oil. Once golden and crispy, he'd fish them out to drain.

Jess was eating them as fast as he could make them. After a while, Ethan glanced at the empty plate, puzzled, and looked at Jess. "Did I even fry any meatballs, Jess?"

Nina and Alex were getting along swimmingly. They chatted and laughed, sharing intimate moments.

But when Nina noticed Jonathan didn't even glance her way as she wiped Alex's brow, her mood soured.

Everyone was busy for a few hours, but Cynthia and Jonathan's group was behind. While the others had relatively simple

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Chapter 176

tasks-fried meatballs, pork chops, grilled cel-Jonathan's ch ingredients took hours.

As everyone started eating, Jonathan was still at the stove. Wh

steam.

When everyone woke from their naps, Jonathan was adding w His chicken cacciatore was ready. Even before lifting the lid, t