Mistaken Identity

Chapter 11 This is my Kitchen



Chapter 11 This is my Kitchen

I've being at Carter home for a week. I felt like an intruder. The intense stares I got from the servants

were so embarrassing. It is obvious they hated me. Ms. Wilson, the ring leader, sometimes would just

look at me and shake her at me, when I asked what was wrong she ignored me. Most days Henrique

and I stayed in my room and we listen to music and play games. I was falling for this child my sister

abandon. He made me happier than I've ever being in my whole life since the accident. He is my pride

and joy. I fell for his big green eyes and his dimples.

I look at my sleeping nephew and smile. I brushed his black hair out of his face. He is a beauty. What

was wrong my sister thing when she left him here? Of course she exactly the type who'd leave her

child. Ever since she accepted the position at the modeling agency, she was never the same. She

started to think about herself and no one else. She started to date elder men. She started to think

money was everything. She was a complete different person after four months of working there. She

was no longer my sister. She was just a model who happens to look exactly like me.

I sighed and started to play Paradise Bay. After five minutes in the game, I heard a knock on my door. I

didn't answer so the person came in.

"Ms. Bisson lunch is ready," Ms. Wilson said at the entrance of my room.

"Henrique, is sleeping." I replied without looking up at the middle-aged woman, who was propbaly

giving me a bad eye.

"Ms. Bisson, your lunch is ready. I'll just leave his for when he wakes."

"Ms. Wilson when he gets up I'll eat mine also. Don't worry about the dishes and look at the bright side.

You won't have look at me with a bad eye." I finished. I knew she hated me and I didn't want any more

of he rubbing it in my face.

She coughed, "Okay, Ms. Bisson." With that she exited my bedroom.

I sighed. My life in hell. If you asked me Ffive years ago, where would my life be I'd probably tell you I'd

be married with my first child and be working at one of the biggest Marketing firms in Las Vegas. I was

born and grown in Vegas before I moved to New York. Now my life was completely different from what

I expected. I'm not married, I have no children and I don't have a job. My heart burns at the fact that my

life was a mess.

I place my phone beside me and shut my eyes. I let the tears fall.

I felt tiny hands on my belly playing with my navel. I wince, I slowly open my eyes to see my nephew. I

smiled. "Henry, baby."

He immediately lift his head to the sound of his name. He smiled at me and his dimples start showing.

"Hongri..," he says in his baby language.

"Hungry, baby?" He nods. I got up from my laying position and came off the bed. I held my hand out

and he gladly enters. I lift him on my side and made my way down stairs.

I made my way to the kitchen, which was empty, thank god because I rather escape the mean look I

receive from the maid. The food was covered up on the table. I took off the cover and I saw a salad

dish with some milk and snacks for the baby. I let out a heavy sigh and rolled my eyes. She wanted to

wake me up just to gave me salad. That wouldn't even full Henrique's stomach. I place Henrique on

floor to play and eat his snacks.

I opened the fridge and look for things to do a simple meal. I found nothing, everything was for a heavy

meal. I went to the cupboard. I founded spaghettis and mixed vegetables. I place them on the counter

and start cooking for myself. I cut the pepper and onions and place them in the pot where the hot oil

was. They started to fry. They scent fill my noise. I loved cooking, I loved the scent of unfinished food in

my nose and when it was finish, I loved it even more. I place mixed Vegetables in the pot and mix it

with the seasons and put the stove on its lowest level. I put the spaghettis in a pot of hot water, to cook.

As I am to put the boiled spaghettis in the pot with the mixed vegetables I heard a scream. I turned

around immediately to see Ms. Wilson looking at me with anger within her eyes.

"What are you doing in my kitchen?" she blazed with anger. What a drama queen! Who screams

because someone else use a kicthen that didn't even belong to her. ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

I lightly cleared my throat then said. "When I first came here I was notified that this place belong to

Alexander Carter and not a Cynthia Wilson. You left me to eat a salad, that wouldn't even be able to

make a mouse stomach full. You obviously want me to starve and Ms. Wilson I'm a woman who eats a

lot and you didn't give me that so I'm making my own lunch. So stop with the urban drama. The

screaming wasn't necessary." I turned around back to my lunch. I need to enjoy the luxury that comes

with living in a mansion. There were many food here complete opposite of my old home. I was being

paid to take care of Henrique, i might as well enjoy the delicasy that comes with it. I will no longer go to

bed hungry.

"What's going on here?" I heard Carter's voice behind me. I stayed were I was and took up the

spaghettis and place in the pot. I stir it and place the cover on the pot. The silence was still in the air

when I turned around. I saw Carter in a suit and Ms. Wilson beside him, both staring at me with angry

eyes. I shrug and look at the baby on the ground. He placed the snack in his mouth and continued

playing with his toy. I smiled, he was peaceful not giving a shit about what's going on here. I look back

at the two adults present.

"Ms. Bisson, I will like to speak to you when you are finished," he turned to Ms. Wilson "Follow me to

my office."

He walked out of the kitchen and his maid behind him.


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