Chapter 470
Brandon had been waiting a long time, but still hadn't seen Alexander's fiancée. He'd tried to enter Alexander's house, but to no avail. Were they not living together? He searched the house thoroughly, but saw no woman. Then Alexander stood up and said, "Make yourself at home."
Confused, Brandon watched as Alexander walked toward the other side of the house, rolling up his sleeves. Unsure of Alexander's intentions, Brandon asked, "Where are you going? How am I supposed to make myself at home? Can I look around your rooms? Can I walk around?" He was hoping to find Alexander's fiancée; even a photograph would suffice.
"As long as you don't set off the alarm, feel free to roam," Alexander said, without turning, heading toward the kitchen.
Brandon hesitated, remembering the electric shock. Worried about lingering effects, he was reluctant to risk it. Alex is so paranoid. Who installs an electric fence in their own home?!
For safety, Brandon followed Alexander. He was astonished when Alexander entered the kitchen and put on an apron. "Y-You" Brandon stammered, even more shocked than by the electric shock. He yearned to take a picture, post it on Facebook—a historical moment!—but feared for his life and his family's business.
Alexander Russell, director of La Beaute Group, head of the Russell family, one of the country's top four most influential families, is in an apron, preparing to cook.
The thought of the online uproar the photo would cause was tempting, but he valued his life too much.
Anticipating Brandon's reaction, Alexander glanced at him and said, "Since you're doing nothing, be useful. Open the fridge's second compartment and get me some tomatoes."
"Oh, okay!" Brandon, regaining his composure, obeyed. He was again surprised by the fridge's contents. His own fridge was stocked, but mainly with instant meals and junk food. Alexander's, however, was filled with fresh fruits, vegetables, meat, meticulously packaged. There were even supplements and expensive ingredients. It belonged to someone who cooked frequently. Yet, the sight of Alexander cooking himself was still astonishing.
Handing Alexander the tomatoes, Brandon couldn't help asking, "What happened to your private chef? Is he dead?"