Devoted Love:The Billionaire's Precious Wife
Chapter 64

Chapter 64: Chapter 64

Dave was feeling all kinds of jittery, like she had just read his mind. "I swear my chefs would never pull such a shady stunt!" Rosemary just laughed it off. "Stop passing the buck to your chefs. Even if they did do it, it would be under your orders." Who would want to shoulder such a huge responsibility?

"Do you have any proof, Ms. Rose?" Dave spat out through gritted teeth. "Without it, I can sue you for defamation!"

"Slow your roll. Don’t bite off more than you can chew. It’ll be a tough act to follow."

"In the peas and beef stir–fry at lunch, was the beef actually beef?" Rosemary looked up at him with a gaze full of confidence. Dave was starting to feel the heat. "What are you implying?"

"I noticed you guys used dead chicken instead of beef."

"Ms. Rose, you’re just stirring the pot, right? You can’t just spout such nonsense without proof!"

"Fetch the kitchen’s trash can." Rosemary ordered her assistant.

Dean hurriedly did as told.

The large trash can was set before everyone. With a swift kick, Rosemary sent the trash spilling out.

Oscar and Dave quickly backed away.

Among the kitchen waste were chicken heads, feet, tails, and the like.

"We didn’t have chicken for lunch, yet here are these." Rosemary casually noted, "Normally, a chicken’s eyes would be open after slaughter. Only a dead chicken’s eyes would be shut."

People around quickly examined the chicken heads on the floor and found their eyes were all closed!

"Most of you would know that chickens need to be bled out when slaughtered. But a dead chicken can’t bleed out properly, which turns the meat red. And the skin of a dead chicken would be sickly gray,

shriveled, and lacking elasticity–not a normal death."

The staff around them were feeling nauseous. They couldn’t believe they had been eating dead chicken instead of fresh beef for lunch!

Right now, they could only fight the urge to puke.

Dave didn’t expect that she, a young girl, would be so observant.

How would a girl her age know about chickens? Very few people would have seen chickens being slaughtered on a farm.

"Alright, even if our chefs did accidentally buy dead chickens, it’s not their fault. They were duped by the market’s chicken stall owner. Besides, if you’re saying dead chicken can be made into beef, then

show me!"

Seeing Dave still putting up a fight, Rosemary couldn’t help but laugh.

"What’s so hard about that?" Rosemary calmly said, "Just cut the subpar chicken into strips, add some beef flavoring and roast meat seasoning; if the color’s off, add some caramel coloring; then pan–fry it in hot oil with various seasonings, and voila! Beef."

Dave’s face was frozen in shock. He didn’t expect her to know the process in such detail, and she hadn’t missed a beat.

"This is proof: all these food additives I mentioned, you can find them all in your own kitchen!"

Hearing Rosemary’s resounding words, the staff around them could no longer describe their feelings with just "astonished".

One of the staff members was patting his chest in relief, saying, "I dodged a bullet there; I didn’t touch those dishes at lunch."

He had survived this ordeal!

Rosemary’s gaze fell on him, a curious look in her eyes. "Do you think only these two dishes were problematic?"

"Ms. Rose, I don’t quite get what you’re saying." The employee seemed a bit flustered.

Rosemary spoke confidently: "Out of the thirteen dishes the canteen served for lunch, not one was made with fresh ingredients!"

Everyone’s eyes went wide upon hearing this.

Seriously?

All thirteen dishes weren’t fresh?

That’s freaking scary, wasn’t it?

’Ms. Rose, what about the sausages? They’ve got to be real, right? Or are they made of fake meat?"

An employee started to worry.

Rosemary looked cool as a cucumber. "Ever heard of starch sausages? All sorts of flour are mixed together with some food additives, roasted meat essential oil, and some carrageenan. Mix it all up in a

food processor, then squeeze out the shape, boil it, and voila! You got your ’sausage’."

Some people ran out to the flower beds to barf.

"The proof is in the pudding, or rather, the not–cleaned food processor, still with some ’meat’ residue.

You can have it tested."

They were worried that the sausages might be made of fake meat, but as it turned out, there wasn’t any meat in them at all! Just a bunch of seasonings!"

"And what about the fish soup you all had at lunch? Didn’t you notice something off about its color?"

Rosemary’s gaze swept over everyone as she said, "Normal fish soup shouldn’t be this white; unless you add a spoonful of vegetable cream, then you can create a delicious fish soup."

More people ran outside to throw up. They couldn’t believe that the canteen would do such a thing..

"I also found concentrated mutton soup powder in the kitchen. Do you know what that is? One spoonful, and even plain water will taste like mutton soup."

Another employee breathed a sigh of relief: "I didn’t have much of an appetite at lunch, so I just added a little extra tomato sauce to my pasta I didn’t eat much of anything else."

"That tomato sauce you ate was also made with tomato essence."

The employee went out to barf.

"What a joke!" Dave chuckled coldly with his arms folded. "Even if you found all these things, you still don’t have any evidence that the cooks actually used them to make lunch."

Oscar chimed in, looking miffed, "Ms. Rose, you can eat however you want, but watch what you say!".

Dave was like a provoked tiger: "I was going to let it slide for the sake of family, but Ms. Rose, you want to blame all this on me; now that everyone has a misunderstanding about our canteen, I’m going to call the police!"

"Sure." Rosemary wasn’t scared at all, even saying, "Mr. Dave is getting old; if you’re not steady holding the phone, I can have Dean help you."

Dave didn’t expect this young woman to be this tough. He sneered, "Ms. Rose, think carefully. Once I call the police, your job won’t be safe either!"

"Do you want to call the police?" Rosemary didn’t have time to waste with him. "If you won’t, I will."

"Dave, Ms. Rose is young; she might be a bit hot–headed sometimes. Don’t take it to heart; think of it as doing me a favor." Oscar tried to mediate: "Go bring the receipt of this morning’s food purchase to

Ms. Rose to prove we used fresh ingredients."

"No need." Rosemary didn’t accept his explanation and said directly, "I heard the supermarket where you guys buy your ingredients from is also owned by your relatives."

Oscar immediately got upset. "Ms. Rose, are you suggesting there’s some shady business going on between our families?"

"You said it, not me."

"You."

Rosemary gave Dean a look, and he immediately took out his phone, ready to dial 911.