From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 280: Grocery Run

The taxi cruised smoothly back towards Louvian Port, leaving the office district behind.

Outside the window, the city lights streamed past in a brilliant blur, but Riley's mind was elsewhere, stubbornly fixed on the image of Sebastian's apartment.

Austere, spacious, and utterly devoid of any lived-in warmth.

"Could you pull over at that import market up ahead, please?"

The decision to buy groceries was purely impulsive.

Since I'm going to wait for him at his place, why not make a simple meal? It would be a small gesture of thanks for letting me use his space for the meeting.

But the moment she stepped into Sebastian's immaculate kitchen, arms laden with bags, reality hit her with full force.

She had drastically underestimated the sterile perfection of his home.

The massive double-door refrigerator stood cold and empty, housing nothing but a few bottles of mineral water and sparkling water. It looked more like a showroom display than an appliance meant for use.

The cabinets, while fully stocked with pristine, unused cookware, held none of the essentials—no oil, no salt, no basic condiments whatsoever.

Does Mr. Torres survive on hydration and photosynthesis?

She wondered, a hand rising to her forehead in disbelief.

She had the ingredients, but even the most skilled cook couldn't work without the fundamentals.

Pulling out her phone, she opened a delivery app, hoping to order some basic supplies.

But as she typed in the address, a notification popped up, "Delivery unavailable. To ensure resident privacy and security, this exclusive private community does not permit entry to external delivery personnel."

Riley sighed, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room. She was staring at the vacant refrigerator, arms crossed, surrounded by the vibrant, misplaced groceries on the countertop, when the faint sound of footsteps reached her.

Sebastian had just returned from the office, his tie loosened and draped over his arm. The sight of the slightly ajar kitchen door, usually firmly shut, gave him pause. A quiet sigh drifted from within.

He moved closer, his presence announced by the soft shift of air.

Hearing him, Riley turned abruptly.

"You're back?" she greeted, quickly smoothing her expression to hide her earlier frustration.

Instead of answering directly, his gaze swept over the colorful produce scattered across the granite surface. "Planning to cook?"

A simple "Mhm" was her reply.

She gave a light shrug. "Haven't done it in a while. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. You've helped me out a lot, and I don't have much else to offer. Thought making you dinner could be a small way to say thanks."

She gestured vaguely at the barren kitchen around them. "Turns out your kitchen is... well, it's really empty."

Her tone was matter-of-fact, free of any hint of fishing for praise or forced charm.

But she had no way of knowing what those simple words meant to him.

Sebastian's expression softened almost imperceptibly.

He walked to the counter, picked up a stalk of green onion, and inhaled its fresh scent, a faint smile touching his lips. "What exactly are we missing? Let's see."

Riley turned to grab her jacket from a stool. "Pretty much everything. Cooking oil, salt, balsamic vinegar, mustard, all the basic pantry staples... Just wait here. I'll run out and get them. Won't take long."

She didn't want to trouble him with such a mundane errand.

But before she could finish, Sebastian was already at the entryway console, picking up a set of car keys. He jingled them lightly. "I'll come with you."

Her hand, holding the jacket, stilled. She looked at him, surprised. "You? Going grocery shopping?"

One eyebrow arched, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Why not? I'm not a deity. Is a supermarket beneath me?"

His question was casual, edged with playful mockery.

Riley found herself at a loss for words. She offered no further protest.

On their way out, Riley dug two face masks from her bag, handing one to Sebastian and putting on the other herself.

They had just reached the underground parking garage when her phone rang. It was Lucas.

"What is it?" she answered, her voice flat.

"Riley, when are you coming home? Grandpa was asking about you."

"Having dinner with Lydia tonight. I won't be back." The lie came easily, without a trace of guilt.

To her, honesty with the Ashfords hardly seemed necessary anymore.

"With Lydia?" Lucas' tone soured noticeably. "Grandpa is here, and you're choosing not to come back? He won't be pleased."

He was trying to use Caleb's displeasure as leverage.

A cold laugh escaped her. "Am I bound to the Ashford household? Did I sign some indenture contract that requires me to be at your beck and call 24/7, with no right to even have a meal with a friend?"

Lucas seemed taken aback by her sharp retort. After a moment of silence, he backed down. "Fine. I'll let Grandpa know. Just... don't be too late."

The unspoken fear was clear—he didn't want another blow-up that might cause her to walk away entirely.

Riley ended the call without another word, slipping the phone back into her bag as if nothing had happened.

Sebastian, standing beside her under the garage's dim lighting, had heard every word of the exchange.

His tall frame cast a long shadow near hers in the subdued glow.