His Second Chance Luna

Calla's POV:

I walk inside the kitchen and dropped my bag on my counter.

"You're late Blackwell," the head chef Mr Norman said and I smiled nervously.

"I'm sorry Mr Norman," I said too quickly and pick up my apron from the cupboard.

I quickly tie the apron on and wore my cap then pick up the frying pan from the sink.

"Everybody listen up," the head chef called our attention.

"Lexi you will make sandwich and burger, Calla you will make fried rice and orange chicken...." He keep assigning us on what to do and I sigh.

This is my daily routine.

What I love doing, my job.

"Lexi, pass me the menu please." I said to my friend Lexi.

She passed me the menu and I mumbled a thank you to her.

Backing against the wall I stares at the menu.

After going through the menu I huffed before preparing to cook.

My name is Calla Blackwell, I'm a professional chef, I love cooking and trying new recipes.

I have been working as a chef for two years now, two months ago I found a new well paying job here in XC hotel.

A hotel own by the famous Lucifer by the name Xavier Carter, he is a stinking rich billionaire, a ruthless one at that.

Since I started working here I haven't seen him even for once.

Maybe he have those that reports back to him.

He kills without mercy, I heard that his eyes has never been seen before.

Nobody knows how his eyes looks like.

One thing he detest is people who look him straight in the eyes.

I heard that he pull out his gun instantly and shot the person.

One thing, he hate it when being address by his real name.

He prefers Lucifer, nobody in California in fact the whole of US doesn't know whom he is.

The thought of that alone sends chilly fear down my spin.

How can someone be so heartless?

"You're out Calla, lower the fire." Lexi called out on me.

I snapped out of my trance and smiled at her before resuming with my cooking.

I'm the only child of my parent, my mother and father are well old.

I pay all the bills that are needed to be paid with my $30k monthly salary.

I'm not complaining.

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After cooking the fried rice and orange chicken I preserved them inside the fridge.

A waiter came in and walk towards me.

"Chef there is an order for fried rice and orange chicken," she said and I nodded.

I picked up a plate from the counter and put in some quantity of rice then place chicken on top of it.