𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝚩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 | 18+

17 || STEPPING STONE

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | STEPPING STONE
𓆩❤︎𓆪𓆩❤︎𓆪𓆩❤︎𓆪

No one had expected Natalia to become so close to Luis as she did. It was odd, really, seeing as he simply was her chauffeur. Yet, after a few roundabouts around the city, she found herself sitting in the front beside him, the guards staring at the two in confusion as Natalia continued small-talking with Lorenzo's personal chauffeur.

"How was breakfast?"

Natalia grinned. "Great. It's always great. Although I do miss cooking."

That caught Luis' attention. "You cook?"

Natalia nodded. "Yes. I was taught at a young age, actually."

When Natalia was a kid, she was raised to be a housewife just like her mother had been and just like her mother before her had been. That was all that had been expected from Natalia and for some years, it was all she wanted in life as well.

That was until she visited the Rousseau household and met Charles' big sister, Elizabeth Rousseau, heir of the Rousseau Group.

Elizabeth had been the exact opposite of everything she'd been taught in life.

The six-year-old Natalia spent her time observing Elizabeth, shadowing the girl who was five years her senior. When Elizabeth read a book, Natalia would run off to the local library and borrow the same book. When Elizabeth said toys were for kids, Natalia stopped playing with her dolls. And when Elizabeth started studying business, so did Natalia.

Elizabeth easily became her idol in life.

Natalia sighed. "Alas, I never have time to cook. My job is very demanding. I've caught myself falling asleep at the office more times than I'm proud of," she admitted. "I prefer baking, however. You?"

Luis smiled. He found it endearing that she cared enough to ask. She was such a genuine girl that it took him by surprise at times. "I don't cook much. Why do you like baking? Anything you like to bake?"

Natalia grinned. "Bread and pastries. I usually bake for coworkers and not myself."

"I don't think Mathilda would be very happy if you infiltras her kitchen," Luis chuckled. Infiltrate.

Natalia was well aware of that. She'd stumbled into the kitchen because she wanted an apple only to be met with glares by jealous servants and by the even angrier head chef Mathilda. It was safe to say that Mathilda hated it when residents of the house stepped into her kitchen.

Natalia was practically dragged out by the guards who stared at her as though she'd grown a second head.

She had to beg Sergio not to shoot the guards for touching her.

"I know," Natalia grunted. "I can't wait to get back to New York."

Luis stayed quiet, glancing at the rearview glass, the guards knowingly glancing at him.

"I'm sorry," Natalia apologised, sensing the tension in the car. "I didn't mean to seem ungrateful." Everyone was nice and no one had hurt her. "I'm just easily overwhelmed." Or more like, she was overwhelmed by the constant spoiling she received in the manor.

Natalia was raised by a low-income middle-class family. The only wealth they had to their name was their house—a house that'd been the family's long before the Reconstruction Era in American history. Despite its old age—the house had been through multiple wars and had seen death in all its forms—Natalia had spent the entirety of her childhood exploring the secrets the house held.

She hadn't known wealth until she stepped into the Rousseau manor. Despite having spent many birthdays and Christmases there, she still wasn't used to their wealth. She was much more comfortable in the small condo that she owned in downtown New York City. She knew her wealth was mere grains in comparison to Lorenzo's but she didn't mind. She didn't want to reach Lorenzo's level ever, after all.