Masked In Nobility Secrets Of Mrs.Chavez1-100

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Chapter_11
The atmosphere in the living room was thick with tension as everyone tried to process Yvette’s sudden knowledge about Logan Brown and Frank Cohen. Zeke, blushing with embarrassment, could hardly believe it. How does she know so much about someone like Logan? he thought, his mind racing. And who is this Frank? I’ve never heard of him!
He couldn’t shake the image of Logan, the renowned chef from Frixyia, whose talents were only reserved for the elite, like the Lewis family. And yet here was Yvette, casually dismissing Logan’s culinary skills. What does she know?
Nellie, too, was caught off guard. She didn’t let her confusion show too much, but it was clear from her cautious tone that she was concerned. “Yvette, how do you know so much about him? Have you tried his food?” she asked, hoping to gauge the truth.
Yvette merely stretched lazily, still feeling the fullness of a satisfying meal. “Well, no,” she said nonchalantly. “I’ve had Logan’s food twice, but I’ve had Frank’s cooking for three years. Braydon Goodman brought Frank in from Epea, and trust me, he knows how to cook something special.”
The mention of Braydon Goodman and Frank Cohen only further mystified the room. Who was this Frank? Why had Yvette been so close to someone of such importance? Nellie, relieved by Yvette’s admission that she hadn’t tried Logan’s cooking, pressed on, though her confidence was clearly fading. “But why say Logan’s cooking isn’t good? You must be messing with us. And who’s Frank? We’ve never heard of him.”
Yvette shot back without missing a beat. “Is it my fault you’re so out of the loop?”
Winona, who had been quietly seething at the exchange, couldn’t stand being outdone by Yvette. She jumped in with a sneer. “Come on, you’re just talking nonsense.”
Zachary, who had been silent through much of the evening, finally intervened. “Seriously, it’s just black truffles. If you want them, just tell the kitchen to make some. What’s with all this pointless arguing?”
His words seemed to end the conversation for the time being, though the unease still hung in the air. The dinner had been fraught with tension, and Yvette’s cool, composed demeanor had left everyone wondering if they truly knew the woman sitting at their table.
Later that night, as Winona headed upstairs, she saw an opportunity to push Yvette, likely out of pure spite. But just as she was about to make her move, Yvette turned around, her eyes locking with Winona’s. It was as if she could see right through Winona’s intentions.
Startled and thrown off balance, Winona stumbled and found herself kneeling on the staircase, her knee slamming painfully into the cold marble. She winced, feeling the sharp sting of pain. Her mind immediately went to tomorrow’s dance performance, and she felt a wave of frustration wash over her. Great. Now it’s ruined.
But Yvette didn’t even spare her a second glance. She simply smirked and continued up the stairs, leaving Winona to wallow in her own pain and frustration. The dramatic wailing that followed was lost on Yvette, who wasn’t the least bit concerned by the spectacle.
Yvette’s room, located on the second floor, was far from impressive. The decor was a hodgepodge of cheap pink curtains and stuffed animals, reminiscent of a tacky, overdone room meant for a much younger girl. The clothes in the closet were just as disappointing—outdated, low-quality fast fashion, pieces that would make anyone look garish. It was clear that Nellie’s attempts to make Yvette feel out of place were futile.
Yvette, unfazed by the room’s childish nature, simply shrugged it off. If they think I’m some country bumpkin, maybe they’ll find joy in this, she mused, pulling out her sleek black phone. With a few swift movements, she transformed it into a mini-computer, her fingers flying across the screen with practiced ease.
The page that popped up read Black Gold—a name that carried weight in certain circles. The bounty board was filled with names and prices, and the top reward was for Zola, the elusive king of Black Gold. The bounty had just been raised to 600 million dollars, and Yvette noted that the second place reward was for someone named Eagle King, with third place going to Flying Fish—all currently on active missions.
Black Gold was a notorious dark web network, where mercenaries could bid on jobs ranging from taking down presidents to eliminating wealthy businessmen. But there was one task that had never been completed: capturing Zola. His identity and whereabouts remained a mystery, and he had never failed a mission since he entered the dark web. Many had tried to take him down, while others sought his assistance. But Zola played by his own rules—no one could predict what job he’d take next.
Yvette closed her phone, turning it back into its sleek, portable form. As she did, a sudden ring broke the silence, and her phone lit up with an incoming call.
“Hey there, sweetheart! Did you miss me?” The voice on the other end was smooth and carefree, accompanied by the sounds of cheering and whistling from a lively crowd.
Yvette’s eyes narrowed slightly. She wasn’t bothered by the loud background noise. She was more focused on the caller’s voice—the person on the other end had a way of getting under her skin. It’s been a while, she thought. Let’s see what he wants this time.
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