His Sweet Fixation

“Since your desserts are exactly to my liking, you should be mine!”

Rachel Tiner assessed the man before her. He had deep-set eyes, a prominent nose, and a sharply defined chin, clad in a tailor-made Italian suit that screamed sophistication—an epitome of a reclusive and celibate heartthrob!

Yet, it was such a refined man who made a statement so shocking it could challenge conventional morals.

But he didn’t seem mad at all…

Rachel had to admit, she was thoroughly shocked.

Regaining her composure, Rachel blinked and chuckled awkwardly, “Sir, are you joking? Because that’s not funny.”

The man arched an eyebrow, his thin lips curling into an attractive arc. “Do you really think I'm joking?”

His remark made the already cool air in the dessert shop drop to an icy chill!

Rachel pursed her lips, about to retort, when an elegant and sophisticated woman swiftly clung to the man’s arm, her expression shifting rapidly.

“Isaac, I don’t find this place all that impressive! I’ve heard about a new dessert shop near Silver Garden. They’ve hired a renowned Italian pastry chef whose Tiramisu has a unique flair! Shall we go check it out?”

Yolanda Grant knew Isaac well—he was never one to joke. His words were always followed by action.

With his relentless determination, he would spare no effort to secure what he desired!

Hearing this, Rachel hastily added, “Right, my shop has just opened, and I’m still honing my craft...”

Isaac, however, brushed off Yolanda, his brows furrowing as he stared at Rachel, his tone imbued with an air of authority and dominance, “Why should I leave? You’re the one who should.”

“What?” Rachel’s eyes widened. Could he truly be insane?

“What's your name?”

“Rachel Tiner.”

Rachel immediately regrated her hasty reply.

Isaac's icy gaze shifted to the respectfully standing old butler, “Quentin, I want to hire her as my pastry chef. Take her back now.”

Take her back? Where did he intend to take her?

Quentin looked somewhat embarrassed, choosing his words carefully, “Sir, this is rather abrupt.”

At that, Isaac’s gaze sharpened like a blade towards Quentin, causing him to tremble, “Are you starting to disobey me?”

Quentin was sweating profusely, his white beard trembling, “Right away, I’ll take care of it…”

As he spoke, he flipped the middle finger.

Soon after, several well-trained bodyguards in suits surrounded Rachel.

“What are you doing?” Rachel's eyes suddenly widened, her arms defensively crossed as she stepped back, “Stop here, or I'll call the police.”

“Miss Tiner, as you heard, our young master would like to hire you as his pastry chef. We hope you’ll cooperate.”

The bodyguards gripped Rachel’s shoulders, preparing to drag her towards a high-end Maybach parked nearby.

Rachel exclaimed, “Who are you people? Is this how you ask? You’re kidnapping me. Let go of me.”

Who could explain what was happening?

Yet the men ignored her, blindly following their orders.

Nearby, Yolanda’s expression was extremely grim, her heart filled with both shock and worry, “Isaac, I know how picky you are about pastry chefs, but it's not just her desserts that meet your taste. We could look at other places in the city...”

She had grown up with him, having long decided he would be her future husband, and knew his fondness for desserts. She had gone to great lengths to cater to his tastes, but now his obsession with taking another woman back was too much for her.

How could Yolanda just set the stage for another's gain?

“What I decide is final. No one can change that.” Isaac’s lips parted slightly, allowing no room for debate. Yolanda’s face instantly turned pale as she stammered, “Isaac...”

The bodyguards had already forced Rachel into the car, and Isaac cast a brief, indifferent glance at Yolanda before following.

Inside the car, Rachel struggled relentlessly, her eyes wide with anger and her shoulders shaking, “Is there no law left? Why are you doing this? This is illegal, you know!”

She just wanted to sell her desserts; how did she end up in such a mess?

What had she done to deserve this?

“Law?” Isaac's cool gaze landed on her, and for some reason, seeing her furiously indignant made him slightly more cheerful, “In this city, I am the law.”

“You…” Rachel gritted her teeth, fists clenched.

If it weren't for those bodyguards, Rachel would have already punched that conceited smirk right off Isaac's face.

The man was utterly merciless and irrational.

Yolanda watched the scene unfold, a tempest churning within her. Isaac was known for his cold and lofty demeanor, typically dismissive and favoring solitude, with a particular disdain for any commotion.

Yet now, the young woman's loud protests should have provoked him to silence her instantly, but today was different...

Rachel Tiner, she had truly underestimated her.

While she couldn't sway Isaac's decision now, Yolanda knew there would be other opportunities to drive this troublesome girl away.

A barely perceptible icy glint flickered in Yolanda's eyes at the thought.

Unexpectedly, after Rachel had been forcibly brought to the Yates residence that afternoon, her beloved dessert shop was burglarized by evening.

Seeing her shop desolated on the news, Rachel's heart ached intensely.

She had poured six months of hard work into her dessert shop, only to see it ransacked completely. How could she possibly calm her distressed heart?

“What are you still doing standing there? Go and make me some desserts,” demanded the deep, rich voice from behind her.

Enraged, Rachel turned and glared at him. “Because of you, my dessert shop was emptied. And you still have the audacity to demand my desserts? Impossible.”

Isaac's deep eyes mocked her as he watched the news on TV, “It's just a tiny dessert shop. Are you really that upset? Just make desserts for me daily, and I'll give you ten shops.”

“That shop was my life's work!” Rachel's eyes reddened with fury, “I don’t want any shops from you. Stop pretending to be generous.”

Isaac’s face suddenly turned stone-cold. He was about to explode, but then, a shrill phone ring cut through the tension.

He watched her answer the call.

“Rachel, why aren’t you home yet?” the caring voice of her mother floated from the phone.

Rachel's eyes immediately brimmed with tears. “Mom, I—”

Before she could finish, Isaac ruthlessly snatched the phone from her hand and hung up.

“What are you doing?” Rachel’s tear-filled eyes widened in shock as she yelled.

“If you don’t agree, you'll never get to leave,”

he stated coldly, pocketing her phone before turning and heading upstairs.

Watching his retreating back, tears rolled down Rachel’s cheeks.

Why should she have to continue making food for him just because he fancied her culinary skills? Who gave him that right?

Seizing the moment he ascended the stairs, Rachel dashed to the door, only to meet the vigilant eyes of the bodyguards stationed outside.

With no other option, she reluctantly closed the door with a loud bang.

If the door was not an option, perhaps the window would suffice?

With this thought, she quickly moved to the window and opened it, only to feel dizzy at the sight of the towering building.

Desperate, she thought to seek external help.

With her phone taken, she sneaked into the study and was thrilled to find an unlocked laptop.

She quickly logged onto her WhatsApp to message her best friend for help.

“What’s wrong?” Sadie Summers responded promptly.

Overjoyed, Rachel typed rapidly, “I’ve been kidnapped. Come save me, call the police. The location is…”

Before she could finish, the computer screen turned red and a shrill alarm sounded throughout the study.

“What's happening?”

Before she could react, Quentin stood imposingly before her.

“Miss Tiner, the master’s villa is equipped with an advanced surveillance system, especially on electronic devices. Anything you do is monitored by the master's phone, which will automatically intercept and trigger the alarm.”

The implication was clear: Don't bother trying.

“What kind of people are you?” Rachel demanded, her anger flaring.

But a minute later, she deeply regretted asking that question.

Isaac Yates, a young magnate topping the global wealth charts, owned the largest electronic distribution group in the world, was a pioneer of the internet era, and a formidable figure in the business empire.

In City A, Isaac could make the entire city tremble with just a stomp of his foot. Yet he maintained a mysterious, low-profile existence, never participating in interviews or magazine features.

This was the enigmatic Isaac. Simply put, as long as he did not wish to release Rachel, she would never be able to leave this place, and her family would remain clueless about her situation.

At this moment, Rachel could only hope that Isaac would eventually grow tired of her cooking and mercifully let her go...

The next morning, Rachel rose early to start on the day's desserts.

Quentin had mentioned Isaac’s finicky eating habits; despite having an array of international chefs at his beck and call, their culinary creations were often met with severe criticism.

This thought made Rachel's hands tremble as she prepared the blueberry tart. If world-class chefs couldn’t satisfy him, what chance did her own cooking stand?

She was just unlucky......

She took out the pre-prepared tart shell, filled it generously with custard, and topped it with homemade raspberry jam. Carefully placing each blueberry, she transformed the ingredients into a stunning work of art. She then placed the tart on a pristine white porcelain plate, artistically smeared a spoonful of jam across it, and finally set the tart atop the plate, completing the masterpiece!

Admiring the enticing dessert, Rachel’s lips curled up in satisfaction.

She wasn’t trying to ingratiate herself to Isaac; rather, she was always absorbed when making desserts, treating the ingredients like art. This wasn’t just a hobby for her—it was a joy.

Carrying the freshly made dessert, she headed upstairs.

As she approached the spiral staircase, Yolanda Grant emerged from the bedroom next to Isaac's, clad in a seductive silk nightgown. She sneered at Rachel’s creation.

“Is this what you’re serving to Isaac?”

The disdain in Yolanda’s voice was palpable, yet Rachel maintained her composure. “Yes, what’s wrong with that?”

“It’s okay,” Yolanda flicked her voluminous waves, her eyes brimming with scorn. “I just hope you won’t be crying when you leave.”

“Thank you for your concern, Miss Grant, but I’m quite confident in my culinary skills.”

Yolanda snorted dismissively and continued downstairs.

Unbeknownst to Rachel, as Yolanda brushed past her, a sprinkle of white powder from her fingertips landed on the dessert, seamlessly blending with the food.

After all, Rachel was merely a foster daughter under the care of the Yates family; she had no right to feel superior.

Composing herself, Rachel carried the dessert into Isaac’s room.

“Come in.”

After a gentle knock, Isaac’s deep, magnetic voice, as melodious as a cello, beckoned her inside.

“This is the dessert I just made; please taste it and see if it’s to your liking,” Rachel said, her grip tightening on the tray as she strived to maintain a positive demeanor.

Isaac glanced at her, a hint of amusement in his gaze. Just yesterday, she had been defiant, but today her attitude had dramatically changed.

Detecting the implication in his look, Rachel cleared her throat awkwardly. “I just want you to let me go after you finish eating.”

So, it was an attempt to appease him.

Isaac picked up a fork and knife and delicately began to slice the tart, the fine custard and tart berry sauce immediately arousing his appetite. He parted his lips to taste it.

But at that moment, his expression darkened drastically.

With a crash, under Rachel's expectant gaze, he suddenly flipped the dessert onto the floor.

The porcelain shattered, and shards flew onto her pale legs, piercing her skin.

Blood began to trickle out.

Despite the pain, Rachel looked at the ruined dessert. “What was that for?”

If he didn’t like it, he could have simply said so. Why destroy her hard work and treat her this way?

Isaac's face was icy, his presence like a tempest that instantly chilled the room.

He gripped her delicate chin, his eyes cold as he leaned in close. “Rachel Tiner, don’t think you can manipulate me with such tricks. I know exactly what you're capable of.”

Rachel’s eyes widened, her doe-like eyes shimmering with confusion and vulnerability. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.” As her eyes welled with tears, Isaac felt an unexplained irritation.

He released her chin and turned to leave.

But as he did, he locked eyes with Yolanda, who wore a look of mockery and triumph.

Suddenly, he understood.

He had wronged her.

In that fleeting moment, something seemed to prick at Isaac's heart.

When Isaac caught Yolanda's gaze, her eyes flashed with panic. She quickly regained her composure and feigned surprise. “Isaac, what’s gotten into you?”

He didn’t even glance at her as he brushed past.

“Isaac...” The pain in Yolanda’s heart was sharp, slicing deep.

Isaac had always been aloof, but his outright neglect was new and seemed to coincide with Rachel Tiner's arrival—the local cake seller had somehow worsened his attitude toward Yolanda...

With a tight grip, Yolanda clenched her fists.