"Let me check with her first." Jenna Roland pulled out her phone from her bag, scrolling through her contacts until she found Stella Laurent's name.

She got straight to the point when the call connected.

"Twenty thousand?" Stella's voice shot up an octave. "That's too much. Fifteen would be enough. But..." She lowered her voice. "I want free meals from you."

Jenna's cooking had left an indelible impression on her. She'd do it for free just to taste it again.

"Twenty," Jenna said firmly. "The nutritionist will handle my meals. I won't be cooking anymore."

"What?!" Stella's shriek nearly ruptured Jenna's eardrum.

Jenna held the phone away. "Keep it down."

"What a shame..." Stella clicked her tongue. "But a nutritionist is better for a pregnant woman."

"So, are you in?"

"Only an idiot would say no!"

"Have your sister take over the orchard management. Same salary—twenty thousand."

"Deal!"

After hanging up, Jenna turned to Ethan Roscente. "Done. Her sister will handle the orchard. One less thing to worry about."

Ethan squeezed her hand. "The orchard has fresh air. Good for relaxation."

A black Maybach glided to a stop in front of a Michelin-starred restaurant.

A waiter escorted them to a private dining room. Grace Roscente wasted no time. "Did your friend agree?"

"Yes." Jenna tucked her phone back into her bag. "Her sister will manage the orchard."

Grace smiled approvingly before shooting Ethan a warning look. "Stock up on snacks at home. If I find out you've been mistreating Jenna..."

Ethan arched a brow. "I cherish her too much for that."

He wrapped an arm around Jenna's waist, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Jenna's ears turned pink as she gently pushed him away.

Grace opened her mouth to speak when her phone rang. She frowned at the caller ID. "We're at dinner. Not now."

Sophie Roscente's voice pierced through the receiver. "Mom! You're having a family meal without me?"

"Nightclub regulars forfeit complaint rights." Grace rattled off the restaurant address and hung up.

Ethan smirked. "Clubbing again?"

"Worry about your own wife." Grace glared at him before placing a piece of sweet-and-sour pork ribs on Jenna's plate.