Cora saw several neatly dressed waiters carrying trays of exquisite snacks, walking toward them one after another.
She almost thought for a second that all of them were coming to their table.
Rachel noticed too.
These people really were coming to their table, and soon they were placing one plate after another down in front of them.
The table had originally been small, but now it was completely filled with all kinds of fancy snacks.
Even the little boy at the next table was stunned.
He'd eaten here a bunch of times, but not even his dad had ever ordered so many delicious things.
Some of them were even limited edition ones he had never tasted before.
Rachel was just as shocked. She had only ordered a mango pancake and a raspberry milkshake.
There was no way she could afford all these extra dishes.
"Did you send the wrong order? These aren't what I asked for," Rachel quickly stood up and said. "I only ordered one mango pancake and a raspberry milkshake."
The beautiful woman standing in front of her, who was clearly dressed different from the other waiters, probably the manager, bowed politely and smiled warmly. "These were paid for by a gentleman," she said.
Rachel blinked in confusion. "Which gentleman?"
The manager smiled again. "He just left."
Rachel turned her head toward the entrance and caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. His tall and straight back gave off an air of natural nobility. There was only one person she could think of.
"It's him!"
"Daddy!" Cora also saw him. That back view was the one she always dreamed of. She called out loudly, "Daddy!"
Rachel's mouth twitched the second she heard that. He's not your father! she screamed in her head.
She quickly looked at the waiter next to her. Everyone around was staring at them with strange looks in their eyes.
She stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do. Then she glanced at Cora, whose dark and sparkly eyes were filled with joy.
Rachel didn't want to disappoint her, so she didn't say anything and just sat down again, feeling embarrassed.
To the others watching, it looked like Rachel had admitted it.
Even the waiters were stunned. Their eyes widened with sudden respect.
The rude waiter from earlier spoke up with a smile plastered on her face, "Oh, so you're President Elliott's wife and daughter. You two may dress simple, but your beauty and elegance can't be hidden. Hehehe…"
She gave an awkward little laugh, clearly trying to suck up.
She seriously regretted looking down on them earlier. Who knew the woman she had mocked was actually the wife of Young Master Elliott?
How dumb could she be?
But wait... she'd never heard of President Elliott being married before.
Was Rachel actually his mistress? And was Cora his illegitimate daughter?
Either way, anyone connected to President Elliott was considered VIP.
He was the CEO of the Elliott Family Group, one of the four most powerful families in Blackwood City.
Born with a genius for business, he had taken over the family's empire at a super young age.
Under his lead, the company expanded crazy fast into entertainment, finance, real estate, and even the film industry.
"I mean… not that President Elliott–" Rachel started, totally unsure how to explain.
"That's my dad," Cora interrupted proudly, standing up straight.
Everyone around them was treating her mom with so much respect, nodding to her and everything.
Cora just knew her dad had to be some kind of important, good-looking big shot. Her mom had suffered too much.
She needed someone to protect her now.
Rachel seriously wanted to facepalm. How was Cora this confident?
Still blushing, Rachel looked at the waitresses still standing there and said, "You can go back to work now. Don't mind us."
The waitresses all bowed respectfully and left.
Once they were gone, Rachel let out a sigh and sat back down.
She'd already paid for her food, there was no way she was going to waste it now.
Cora had already finished a big plate, and Rachel was finally starting to feel hungry too.
"Mummy, try this. It's really delicious," Cora said excitedly, placing a small piece of cake in front of Rachel.
Rachel gently scooped up a piece with a spoon and put it in her mouth. It melted instantly, the rich, creamy flavor spreading across her tongue.
It wasn't too sweet or greasy, just perfect.
In a blue Maserati parked outside, Kellan leaned back lazily in the driver's seat with his eyes half-closed, resting.
His features were so perfect they looked like they'd been carved by a master sculptor. He instinctively pursed his lips, making him look cold and unapproachable.
His long index finger tapped against his leg rhythmically as his mind wandered back to the woman he saw earlier.
Kellan had just finished dinner with Young Master Hall in the restaurant.
He'd been sitting by the window on the second floor when he saw Rachel walk in.
The waitresses had mocked her right away, making it clear she didn't belong there. But she insisted on staying.
In the end, they'd reluctantly led her and her daughter to a small corner table.
The little girl with Rachel had seemed really understanding and even tried to persuade her mom to leave. But Rachel had gently refused.
Kellan's handsome brows furrowed slightly.
What a vain woman.
She clearly didn't have money, yet still insisted on eating in a high-end place like this?
He watched her flip through the menu over and over again before finally ordering just a dessert and a drink.
It looked like it was all for the little girl, Rachel didn't order anything for herself.
When he saw the little girl looking longingly at the fancy desserts on the neighboring table,
Kellan felt an unexpected tug in his chest.
He sighed lightly. He couldn't help it anymore.
"Waiter," Kellan called over.
The waiter rushed to him immediately, bowing respectfully. "Young Master Elliott, how can I help you?"
Everyone in the restaurant knew that Young Master Elliott was their most important guest.
"Send a full table of the latest desserts to that table over there," Kellan said. His voice was low and magnetic, like the deep sound of a cello.
The waiter followed Kellan's line of sight and nearly choked in surprise.
Did he hear that right?
Was Young Master Elliott really pointing to that table?
The one with the young woman and a little girl?
Both of them were dressed way too simply, and their presence felt completely out of place in such a high-class restaurant.
"Do you mean the table with the mother and daughter?" the waiter asked again, needing to confirm.
"Yes," Kellan replied coldly, his expression unreadable.
That woman had only ordered one dessert and a drink, clearly not planning to eat much. Sending more over would let both mother and daughter eat their fill.
The waiter didn't dare question anything further. He bowed and left immediately.
Everyone in the restaurant had been instructed before: if President Elliott gave an order, they were to follow it, whether the customer was a rich tycoon or even a beggar.
So, without wasting a second, they arranged a table filled with the best and freshest desserts in the entire restaurant and sent it over.