Chapitre 27: I’ve got this

"You what?" Riley asked, her tone a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Seraphine, however, looked entirely too pleased. She leaned forward, her crimson eyes glowing. "Did you break anything?"

Rowena grinned, clearly reveling in the attention. "Don't think so, but I hit her pretty hard. She deserved it."

Riley sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We're on vacation, Rowena. You can't just go around punching people!"

"Why not?" Seraphine interjected, looking genuinely confused. "If someone deserved it, she should've punched harder. Next time, aim for the nose."

"Seraphine!" Riley snapped, glaring at her wife.

"What?" Seraphine said with a shrug. "It's good advice."

I groaned, already feeling a headache coming on. "Can we not turn this into a lesson on how to properly break someone's face? We're supposed to be relaxing, remember?"

Rowena, undeterred, flopped onto the couch next to Seraphine. "Relaxing is boring. Besides, the girl was asking for it. She said something rude about Rhiannon."

That was a blatant lie, but before I could call her out on it, Seraphine's expression darkened. "No one insults my daughter. Give me her name, and I'll handle it."

"Handle it how?" Riley asked, crossing her arms.

"I have my ways," Seraphine said, a sly smile spreading across her face.

"Mom!" I interjected, throwing my hands in the air. "We're on vacation! You can't just start a vendetta against some random person!"

"She's not random if she insulted you," Seraphine said matter-of-factly.

Riley sighed again, this time with the weight of someone who had lived through too many of these conversations. "We're not starting a fight. We're not breaking anyone's nose. And we're definitely not ending up in a foreign prison."

"Prison is temporary," Seraphine muttered under her breath.

"Not helping!" I snapped.

Rowena, clearly enjoying the chaos she'd caused, looked entirely too smug. I shot her a glare. "Thanks for that, Rowena. Really appreciate it."

"What?" she said with an innocent shrug. "I'm just keeping things interesting."

Before the conversation could spiral further into absurdity, I excused myself, claiming I needed a shower.

The hot water was a welcome relief, washing away the sand and sweat from our training session. As the steam enveloped me, I couldn't help but reflect on the whirlwind of the day. From the chaotic registration process to Rowena's impulsive punch, it was clear that nothing about this vacation was going to be relaxing.

Still, as much as I hated to admit it, the chaos was kind of comforting. It was our version of normal—loud, messy, and filled with too much drama.

Once I was clean and dressed, I made my way back to the dining area, where the staff had outdone themselves once again. Tonight, they'd set up an open kitchen, complete with stations for guests to try their hand at cooking.

The dining room buzzed with excitement as people milled around, donning aprons and experimenting with various ingredients. The air was thick with the scent of garlic, herbs, and sizzling meats, and my stomach growled in response.

I spotted my family at a table near the center of the room. Seraphine was eyeing the cooking stations with mild disdain, while Riley looked like she was debating whether or not to join in. Rowena, of course, was already helping herself to an appetizer platter.

"Finally," Rowena said as I approached. "I thought you were going to take all night."

"Unlike you, I actually care about personal hygiene," I shot back, sliding into the seat next to her.

Before she could retort, the sound of a knife tapping against a glass echoed through the room. A chef stepped forward, addressing the guests with a warm smile.

"Welcome, everyone, to tonight's open kitchen event! Feel free to explore the stations, experiment with recipes, and, most importantly, have fun. If you'd like, our professional chefs are here to guide you."

The announcement was met with applause, and several guests eagerly made their way to the cooking stations.

Rowena turned to me with a mischievous grin. "You should cook something, Rhiannon. Impress us."

I raised an eyebrow, already regretting sitting next to her. "Why me?"

"Because you're the one always going on about how you're going to be the greatest chef," she said, nudging me. "Let's see if you've got the skills to back it up."

Riley perked up at that. "Ooh, I'd love to see that. You should totally do it, Rhiannon."

Even Seraphine looked intrigued, her crimson eyes gleaming. "It would be interesting to see you in action."

Great. Now they were all ganging up on me.

"Fine," I said with a sigh, standing up. "But don't complain if I show everyone up."

Rowena smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, don't worry. I'll be the first to complain."

With that, I made my way to one of the empty cooking stations, already feeling the weight of their expectant gazes. This was going to be interesting.

As I stood in front of the cooking station, the reality of what I'd just agreed to hit me. The ingredients were laid out neatly in front of me: fresh vegetables, a variety of spices, cuts of meat, seafood, and even an array of cheeses.

There were jars of oils and sauces, bowls of flour, and a tray of eggs all pristine, begging to be transformed into something extraordinary.

My mind raced. If I was going to cook, it had to be something impressive, something bold that would leave Rowena and everyone else stunned.

But it also had to be me flavors I knew, techniques I trusted, and a little spark of magic that only I could bring.

I let my eyes wander over the ingredients until they settled on a stack of fresh salmon fillets.

The deep coral color of the flesh gleamed under the bright kitchen lights. Perfect. Salmon was versatile, and if I could nail the balance of textures and flavors, it would be spectacular.

In my head, a dish began to take shape. I'd start with a pan-seared salmon, cooked until the skin was crisp and golden while the meat remained tender and flaky.

For a side, I'd prepare a velvety risotto infused with lemon and herbs, its creaminess acting as a perfect counterpoint to the richness of the fish.

To finish, I'd add a garnish of caramelized cherry tomatoes for a burst of sweetness and acidity.

With a plan in mind, I rolled up my sleeves, grabbed a cutting board, and got to work.

The first thing I did was prepare the salmon. My hands moved instinctively as I inspected each fillet, ensuring there were no hidden bones.

Satisfied, I sprinkled them with a pinch of salt and freshly cracked black pepper. Then, for an extra kick, I dusted them with smoked paprika and a touch of cayenne.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a chef approaching, their apron crisp and spotless. They stopped just a few feet away, their expression polite but cautious. "Need any help?" they asked.

I didn't even look up. "No, thanks," I said firmly, slicing a lemon into perfect rounds. "I've got this."

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