Revenge and the Harem Chef’s Miracle System

On the Brink of Death

Vincent strode toward him, eyes sharp. “What do you think you’re doing? Who gave you permission to change the menu?”

Louis placed the last plated dish on the counter and met Vincent’s gaze calmly. “I didn’t change the menu. I just cooked it better.”

Vincent clenched his fists. “Don’t act like you’re the best chef here. I don’t care what happened to you, but don’t cause problems in my kitchen.”

Louis smirked. “If making better food is a problem, then maybe this kitchen does need a change.”

The staff around them held their breath. No one had ever spoken to Vincent like that.

Vincent’s face reddened with anger. But before he could respond, a waiter rushed in, looking flustered.

“Chef Vincent, an important guest is asking to meet the chef who cooked today’s Coq au Vin!”

Vincent froze.

Louis simply smiled and removed his apron. “I believe that would be me.”

---

In the restaurant’s VIP room, a distinguished man in his fifties sat elegantly. His tailored suit exuded wealth and power, and his gaze was sharp—like that of a seasoned businessman.

Louis recognized him.

Antoine Bouchard, the owner of a prestigious fine dining empire across Europe.

As Louis stepped in, Antoine studied him with intrigue.

“So, you’re the one who made the Coq au Vin?”

Louis nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Antoine gave a slight smile. “I’ve tasted the finest cuisines from all over the world. But the flavors you presented today… reminded me of something long lost.”

Leaning back in his chair, he continued, “I need a chef like you in my restaurants. How about working for me?”

Everyone in the room was stunned.

Vincent, who had just entered to oversee the meeting, turned pale.

Louis met Antoine’s gaze steadily. The offer was tempting.

But he couldn’t accept it just yet.

This system had just granted him a new opportunity. And if he wanted to take back everything—including Mathéo—he had to be more than just a chef at an elite restaurant.

He had to be the best.

Louis smiled. “I appreciate your offer, Mr. Bouchard. But for now, I have unfinished business to take care of.”

Antoine looked at him with newfound respect. “Very well. But remember, my door is always open for you.”

As Louis walked out of the room, he could feel Vincent’s piercing glare at his back.

But he didn’t care.

This was just the beginning.

And he would make sure that everyone who had betrayed him… would regret it.

The sky had begun to darken as Louis stepped out of Le Ciel de Paris. The cold night air of Paris bit at his skin, but his heart still burned with the anger he held inside. He had turned down Antoine Bouchard’s generous offer, not because he was unsure, but because he knew this was just the beginning of his rise.

However, he had no idea that danger was already lurking.

Not far from the restaurant, in a deserted alley, a group of men in dark suits waited in the shadows. Their eyes were sharp, filled with ill intent.

The moment Louis turned into the narrow alley, everything happened in an instant.

Thud!

A brutal punch landed on his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs. Before he could react, two other men grabbed him from behind, slamming his body against the cold stone wall.

"So, this is the man causing all the trouble," a voice echoed near his ear.

From the shadows, a well-dressed man stepped forward. It was Jean Morel—Celeste’s new lover. His eyes gleamed with arrogance and malice.

Louis coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his lips. "So, this is how you solve your problems? Sending your lackeys to beat me up?"

Jean smirked. "You ruined my event last night. And yet, you still dare to show up at the restaurant like you belong in this world?"

Without warning, one of Jean’s men punched Louis hard in the face. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as fresh crimson dripped from his split lip.

"I don’t care how Celeste used to feel about you," Jean continued, his tone dripping with condescension. "Right now, you’re just a worthless loser. You’ve lost everything, Louis. Your wife, your child, your job—you don’t even have a place to sleep tonight."

Despite the pain searing through his body, Louis let out a faint chuckle. "And you think this will make me give up?"

Jean sighed as if bored. "What a shame. I wanted to finish this quickly, but you’re too stubborn."

He gave a slight nod, and his men resumed their assault. Fists pummeled into Louis’s ribs, his stomach, his face. His breathing grew labored, his vision blurred.

Then, something even more terrifying happened.

One of the men pulled out a knife.

Jean crouched in front of Louis, who was now barely holding onto consciousness. "You know, I could let you live… if you promise to disappear from Paris. But somehow, I doubt you’re smart enough to take that chance."

The knife gleamed under the moonlight. Louis knew this was no longer just a warning—they truly intended to kill him.

But before the blade could touch his skin…

Bang!

A gunshot rang through the air.

Everyone froze and turned toward the sound.

At the mouth of the alley, a woman stood with a pistol in her hand. The red leather jacket she wore billowed slightly in the wind, and her eyes shone like a hawk’s. Her long, dark hair cascaded past her shoulders, contrasting against her flawless, pale skin.

Jean’s men hesitated for a split second before preparing to attack.

The woman merely smirked.

In a blur of movement, she struck.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three precise shots landed in the men’s knees, sending them collapsing to the ground, screaming in agony.