Meanwhile, Stanley Batton sat at the main seat, perusing his phone while waiting for the two ladies.
He had to prepare more food to account for the extra headcount in the house, cooking six dishes with soup in total.
The spread looked and smelled great; he had cooked meatballs, sweet and sour pork ribs, mashed potatoes, stir-fried prawns, spicy clams, abalones, and melon soup.
The inspiration to make meatballs struck him out of the blue for some inexplicable reason, even though Xyla wasn't particularly fond of it.
It was as if there was a strange force that compelled him to make the dish, leaving him to feel guilty if he didn't.
The dining room light shone elegantly on his fair skin, making it appear brighter than usual, but there was also an aloofness about him.
He was the kind of man that was out of reach for most commoners.
Approximately ten minutes later, Xyla and Sophie walked hand-in-hand happily into the dining room, the latter's eyes lit up at the sight of the meatballs
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