Harem Investment System: Getting Money And Women - Chapter 201

Chapter 201: Riley, The Chef
She grabbed Ethan’s hand, ignoring the recoil and led him straight to the couch.

He settled let her guide him, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he sank into the cushions, stretching his legs out comfortably.

The place was small but cozy — warm lighting, a few personal touches scattered around to show it was her that owned the place and the faint scent of vanilla in the air.

It suited her.

Riley stood before him, hands on her hips, looking determined.

“You’ve paid for dinner twice now,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “So tonight, I’m treating you.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Oh? Is that why you’re cooking?”

She scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

Crossing her arms, she grinned. “I want to make you a home-cooked meal so great it’ll be unlike anything you would find in a restaurant.”

He leaned back, resting an arm over the couch. “That so? Should I be worried?”

“Please,” she scoffed, flipping her hair. “You’re about to have the best meal of your life.”

Ethan chuckled. “Alright then, chef. I’ll be right here, waiting.”

She nodded, looking satisfied with herself. “Good. But first, I need to change into something comfortable.”

Ethan watched her retreat to her bedroom, noticing the slight bounce in her step.

She looked… excited.

And that, more than anything, made him curious.

He didn’t doubt she could cook, he had eaten lunch with her before, but the way she was so eager to impress him? That was something else.

He leaned back, letting out a quiet sigh as he glanced around the room.

There were photo frames on the shelves, little trinkets on the coffee table.

It was so different from his place, which, despite being luxurious, often felt a little too… empty.

‘Maybe smaller is better,’ He said, taking a picture frame into his hand.

A younger version of Riley was on display, beautiful stark dark hair and even a pair of glasses which he had to admit made her look…

Beautiful? Nah.

It was breathtaking.

But the main focus of this picture wasnt on Riley, but rather the young boy she took the picture with.

He looked like Riley except as a young boy, his hair draped over his forehead, glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose, Ethan could have sworn he looked like this when he was younger.

He dropped the photo shortly after though.

A few minutes later, Riley reappeared — wearing loose sweatpants and an oversized singlet which did little to hide her curves, her hair tied up in a messy bun.

She looked ridiculously comfortable, and for a second, Ethan just stared, finding something strangely endearing about it.

Her cheeks turned pink as she saw his eyes on her.

“Alright,” she clapped her hands together. “Time to cook.”

Ethan smirked. “Looking very professional.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned. “Mock me all you want. You’re still going to eat every bite.”

Riley tugged on Ethan’s arm, her fingers wrapping around his wrist as she pulled him up from the couch with a grin.

“Come on,” she said, leading him toward the kitchen.

Ethan let her guide him, his gaze flickering around the space as they stepped inside.

He hadn’t paid much attention before, but now that he was here, he noticed how neat everything was.

The counters were spotless, the utensils arranged in a way that suggested they had a designated place.

Even the cupboards looked like they’d been freshly painted — a soft cream color that made the space feel warm.

And then there was the scent — faint but familiar.

That same vanilla aroma lingered in the air, mixing with the subtle hints of spice and something homey.

“You always keep your kitchen this spotless?” Ethan asked, leaning against the counter.

Riley shot him a playful glare. “Unlike some people, I actually take care of my space.”

He smirked. “Are you calling me messy?”

“I’m calling you rich,” she corrected, rolling her eyes. “I bet you have someone else cleaning up after you.”

Ethan chuckled. “Fair enough.”

She turned toward the cabinets, opening one and pulling out a few ingredients.

As she set them on the counter, she glanced up at him.

“Alright, tonight’s special is something my grandma used to make,” she said, gesturing toward the ingredients.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Your grandma, huh? So this is a family recipe?”

“Yep,” Riley said proudly. “She taught my mom, and then my mom taught me.”

Ethan folded his arms. “Alright, now I’m actually curious.”

Riley smirked. “You should be. This is top-tier home cooking.”

She got to work, moving around the kitchen with an ease that spoke of experience.

As she measured out the ingredients, she explained each step to Ethan.

“So, first things first, we need to marinate the meat,” she said, grabbing a small bowl. “Grandma always said the secret to good flavor is letting the spices really soak in.”

Ethan watched as she carefully mixed a blend of spices, her fingers working with practiced precision.

There was something oddly fascinating about it — the way she moved, the little frown of concentration on her face.

He didn’t know why but it reminded him of Marianne a whole lot more than it should.

“Alright,” she continued, reaching for the meat. “We coat this evenly, then let it sit for a while.”

Ethan leaned in slightly, watching her hands work. “And what exactly are we making?”

She shot him a teasing look. “You’ll find out.”

He smirked. “Keeping me in suspense, huh?”

“Gotta make it interesting somehow,” she said with a wink.

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. He didn’t mind waiting.

Something about seeing her so invested in this, so genuine, made the whole thing worth it.

After letting the meat rest, Riley moved on to preparing the vegetables.

She chopped with confidence, explaining how different cuts could change the texture of the dish.

Ethan had never really thought about things like that before.

“Cooking’s kinda like building something,” Riley mused, slicing through an onion with precision. “Every piece has to fit together just right.”