mma fighter x chef

What were you even doing here. The funeral of one of the most wealthiest and influential woman of the country. To her, you were nothing but her mere personal chef. So how could you stand at her private funeral? With only her immediate relatives.

Was it obvious that you didn't belong? Yes. However, as it was a funeral even the wealthy knew this was no place to gossip about the elephant standing in the biome it's feet were never meant to touch.

After the main speaker had dismissed the guests, you took this as an opportunity to isolate and hide, as if you were a thief of some sort. As you stepped out into the rain you never felt the daggers from the sky.

You looked up to see an umbrella shielding you from the rain. Your eyes lowered and trailed up the sleeve of the person, until you reached their face. It was Christopher Rhodes, the greatest mma fighter, who was the grandson of Vivian Rhodes, the woman you worked for. You had spoken to him a couple of times, and by a couple it was only one or two words spoken between you.

"You are not leaving yet." Christopher spoke in a stern yet hushed tone as he glared down at you.