The Unwanted Perfect Husband

Chapter 10

The next morning, the sky was still a silvery gray when Thaddeus dropped his two children off at daycare.

The place was only two blocks from Maison Restaurant, where he worked.

Leaving the children there while he was on the job had become his routine.

His mother-in-law and sister-in-law refused to look after them, and Yilna wouldn’t hire a nanny, insisting that Thaddeus had to keep expenses down.

After the children went inside and the daycare door closed, he stood for a moment on the sidewalk.

He took a deep breath. The house mortgage payment of fifteen hundred dollars was due tomorrow. The annual bonus he should have received the previous month—three thousand dollars—was still being withheld. That was the only hope he had left.

He walked toward Maison Restaurant.

The kitchen was already bustling when he entered through the back door. The smell of frying onions, the sound of knives on cutting boards, and the hiss of lit stoves greeted him.

A few coworkers offered brief hellos. Thaddeus only nodded, shrugged off his jacket, and headed straight for the manager’s office.

The door to the office was open.

Marcus, the Chef Manager, sat behind the desk with his legs crossed. The man in his forties was still wearing his chef’s uniform half-unbuttoned, revealing a gold chain around his neck. His somewhat fleshy face looked flushed, as if he hadn’t fully recovered from a late night.

Marcus had been Thaddeus’s senior at the mountain martial arts academy years ago. Not the strongest student, but slick enough to always end up on the winning side. After leaving the academy, he had managed to work his way into the restaurant industry and now held the manager’s position at Maison.

Thaddeus stood in front of the desk without sitting down.

“Senior Marcus,” he said calmly. “I’ve come to demand my annual bonus. It’s already more than a month past due. According to the agreement, the bonus must be paid no later than the end of the previous month.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, then gave a short laugh. “Well, straight to the point. Who do you think you are, Thaddeus? An ordinary kitchen worker who suddenly dares to make demands?”

“I’m not demanding without basis. It’s my right. That three-thousand-dollar bonus was promised in writing. I need that money.”

Marcus leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the desk. “Just wait. You’ll get it eventually. Don’t try to act smart and tell me what to do.”

Thaddeus looked him straight in the eye. “It’s already past the agreement, Senior. If it keeps getting delayed, I’ll file an official complaint with the restaurant owner.”

Marcus’s expression changed. His smile vanished. “You dare threaten me?”

“It’s not a threat. I’m only asking for what’s rightfully mine.”

Marcus stood up. His larger frame loomed over Thaddeus. “Listen, idiot. Back at the academy you were only good at cooking. Now you’re just a cook. Don’t you dare talk to me like that—I’m your senior. Just wait until I am being generous and feel like giving the bonus to you!”

Thaddeus didn’t back down. “This isn’t about you being generous. It’s an obligation. And I know why my bonus keeps getting delayed.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’ve heard a lot,” Thaddeus said quietly. “Employees’ bonuses often ‘disappear’ in your hands, Senior. Spent on nightlife, women, and gambling. Not just once or twice. People in the kitchen talk about it too.”

“I refuse to let my bonus be used for that as well,” Thaddeus continued.

The room suddenly went cold.

Marcus slammed the desk hard. “You… dare accuse me?!”

His face turned deep red. A vein pulsed at his temple. “Have you forgotten our positions, Thaddeus? Back at the academy you were the dumbest student in our class. You never won a single match. You just hid in the kitchen. And now you dare stand up to your senior?”

“I’m not standing up to you. I’m only asking for what’s mine.”

Marcus said nothing more. He moved quickly around the desk. His body shifted with the short, precise steps of the martial arts style they had once studied. His hand rose, ready to strike Thaddeus’s shoulder with a simple but effective bone-breaking technique.

Thaddeus had no time to think. His body reacted first.

The hand that still held a small kitchen knife—the one he normally used for chopping seasonings—turned in a movement almost too fast to see. In an instant, seven knife shadows appeared in the air. These were no ordinary illusions. They were sharp, gleaming, and formed a semicircle in front of Thaddeus’s chest, as if seven real blades were poised to strike from seven different angles.

The entire motion lasted less than a second.

Marcus froze in mid-attack. His raised hand stopped in the air. His eyes went wide.

A few kitchen staff who happened to be near the doorway also stood frozen. Among them were two who had once trained at the same academy, and one who had quietly begun low-level cultivation. They all recognized the technique.

Seven Knife Shadows.

A rare intermediate-level technique taught only to selected students at the academy. Not something that could be learned casually. It required extremely stable qi control, intense concentration, and sharp weapon instinct. Most students had never even seen it used outside a master’s demonstration.

Marcus took a step back. His voice was hoarse.

“That’s… Seven Knife Shadows?”

Thaddeus lowered the knife. The shadows vanished like smoke blown away by the wind. He stood still, his breathing still even, as if he had merely been chopping vegetables.

Marcus stared at him with a mixture of anger, fear, and disbelief. “How could you possibly master that technique? You… you were the dumbest student in our year! Our mentor never even put you in the advanced weapons class!”

Some of the staff exchanged glances. Soft whispers could be heard.

“I swear… that’s a rare technique.”

“He used to just stay in the kitchen…”

“But just now… seven shadows. Clear as day.”

Marcus clenched his fists. His face was still red, but now there was hesitation in his eyes. He no longer dared to advance. The pressure he had released for the attack had already faded.

Thaddeus looked at him calmly. “I’m only asking for my bonus, Senior. Three thousand dollars. As agreed. If it can’t be paid out today, I’ll speak directly with the owner.”

Marcus was breathing hard. He swallowed, then forced out a laugh that sounded off-key. “Fine… fine. Don’t get so emotional. I’ll check again. There might have been an administrative delay.”

“I’ll wait until this afternoon,” Thaddeus said.

He turned and walked out of the manager’s office without waiting for any further reply. Behind him, Marcus still stood rigid, staring blankly at the door.

In the kitchen, several pairs of eyes followed him with expressions that mixed awe and wariness. Thaddeus ignored them. He washed his hands, put on his apron, and returned to his station as if nothing had happened.

Yet inside his chest, something pulsed faintly.

That technique… he himself didn’t know how he had been able to use it so easily.

Back at the academy he had once seen his mentor demonstrate it, just once. But he had never been formally trained in it.

Earlier, when Marcus attacked, his body had moved on its own. As if an instinct older than his memory had taken over.

“God, what is actually happening to me?” he wondered silently.