Chapter 1 — The 12th-Floor Kitchen Contract

The doorbell of Diem Tram bakery rang out just as Ngo Diem Tram was bending over to check the last batch of cream puffs in the oven, sweat beading on her forehead even though the ceiling fan above was still spinning steadily. She looked up, trying to force a smile to greet the customer, but when she realized that the person who had just entered was a familiar bank employee, that smile immediately disappeared.

"Hello, Ms. Tram," the employee said, his voice somewhat shy. "I came to inform you that the shop's loan is overdue for the second month. If you still cannot pay next month, the bank will be forced to conduct mortgage recovery procedures."

Diem Tram clenched her hands on the wooden counter that had faded over the years, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I understand," she replied. "I will find a way to meet the deadline."

When the bank employee left, Diem Tram allowed herself to sigh, lean back against the counter, looking around the small bakery that her mother had built over the past twenty years. The wooden cake shelves, the old hanging lamp, the smell of butter and vanilla wafting through the space — all contained so many memories that she couldn't afford to lose.

***

That afternoon, Diem Tram went to the hospital to visit her mother as usual, bringing with her a small box of butter cookies that Mrs. Ngo Thi Lam has always loved, although now she can only eat sparingly according to the doctor's orders.

"You brought me a cake again," Mrs. Lam said, her voice was weak but her eyes still shone with the familiar warmth when she saw her daughter. "You don't need to worry about me so much, the bakery is what you need to focus on."

"Mom, don't worry about the shop," Diem Tram replied, trying to keep her voice gentle, not revealing the heavy burden on her shoulders. "I will find a way."

The treating doctor, when meeting Diem Tram alone in the hallway, could not hide his seriousness. "Your mother's heart condition is deteriorating faster than expected," he said. "We need to perform a heart valve replacement surgery as soon as possible, but the cost is not small, and insurance can only cover part of it."

Diem Tram stood silently in the middle of the hospital hallway, feeling the entire burden of life rushing in at once - the bank loan was about to come due, the cost of her mother's surgery, and the uncertain future of the bakery she promised herself she would never lose.

***

At the same time, on the 12th floor of the Zenith building, where the high-end Cam Luong restaurant is located, Luong Viet Khang was standing in the family lawyer's office, facing a document that he had deliberately delayed reading for many months since his grandmother's death.

"According to Ms. Luong Thi Cam's will, to officially inherit full ownership and operation of the Cam Luong restaurant chain, Mr. Luong Viet Khang must legally get married before his thirty-second birthday," the family lawyer read the terms out loud, his voice even but each word was like a hammer blow to Khang. "If this condition is not met, the executive power will automatically be transferred to Mr. Luong Dinh Phat in the next order of priority in the will."

Khang clenched his fists, trying to suppress the anger rising in his heart. "Grandma knows I don't have time for love," he said, his voice cold but containing an indescribable pain. "Why do you set such unreasonable terms?"

"I'm just the executor of the will," the lawyer replied, his eyes full of sympathy. "But according to what Mrs. Cam shared with me before she passed away, she did not want her grandson to just bury himself in work and forget his own happiness. She believed that this was the only way to force him to stop and look for something more meaningful than the restaurant."

***

Leaving the lawyer's office, Khang drove straight to Cam Luong restaurant, his mind confused before the deadline of only three months to find a solution. He walked into the kitchen, the only place that made him feel at peace amidst all the chaos, and started checking out the new menu for next week as a way to calm his mind.

"Chef, you don't look very good," Dang Trung Kien, Khang's closest sous chef, commented when he saw him standing quietly in front of the menu board, his eyes distant and unfocused as usual.

"Nothing," Khang replied curtly, trying to dismiss the thoughts that were invading his mind to focus on the task at hand. "Are there any big parties planned tonight?"

"There was a small wedding party booked at the last minute," Kien replied, glancing over the table reservation list. "But the party who ordered the wedding cake just announced a cancellation due to a shipping problem. We urgently need to find an alternative cake supplier within the next few hours."

Khang frowned, realizing this was an urgent problem that needed to be resolved immediately. "Call all the bakeries nearby, see who can meet the deadline," he ordered, temporarily pushing aside worries about the will to focus on the restaurant's immediate crisis.

***

Meanwhile, at Diem Tram bakery, Vu Hoai Thu, Tram's close friend and only assistant, was helping her clean up the cake counter after a day of slow business when the shop's phone suddenly rang.

"Diem Tram Bakery please listen," Hoai Thu replied, her voice still maintaining professionalism even though she was worried about the recent gloomy business situation.

On the other end of the line was a deep, urgent male voice. "I'm a representative of Cam Luong restaurant. We urgently need fifty servings of premium desserts for a wedding party tonight, within the next three hours. Can the shop accommodate it?"

Hoai Thu covered the receiver and turned to look at Diem Tram with eyes full of hope. "Miss Tram, Cam Luong restaurant urgently needs dessert cakes, it's a big order!"

Diem Tram, although exhausted after a long day full of anxiety, felt that this could be a rare opportunity to earn a significant amount of extra income, enough to temporarily ease the overwhelming financial pressure. She nodded determinedly, even though she had no idea that this urgent decision to accept the order would become a turning point that would take her life in a completely unpredictable direction.

"Okay," she said, her voice filled with determination even though her hands were beginning to tremble under the pressure of time. "Give me the address, I will deliver on time."

As soon as she hung up the phone, Diem Tram immediately rolled up her sleeves and mobilized all the remaining ingredients in the warehouse to start making fifty desserts in record time. Hoai Thu is no less urgent, helping to mix the dough and calculating whether the available ingredients are enough to complete the order.

"Are you sure you can make it in time?" Hoai Thu asked, her eyes filled with worry as she looked at the clock that was ticking cruelly every minute.

"You have to make it in time," Diem Tram replied, her hands still nimbly shaping the passion fruit tarts, the signature dish that has made the shop famous. "This may be the last chance to save the shop, I can't let it slip away."

Three hours passed in an unprecedented hustle and bustle, with both women barely having a minute of rest, sweat drenched the back of their shirts but their eyes still did not leave the smallest detail of each cake. Arriving at the appointed time, Diem Tram herself drove an old motorbike, carrying carefully packaged cake trays, and hurried to the Zenith building.

***

When Diem Tram entered the kitchen area of Cam Luong restaurant, the tense, bustling atmosphere of a high-end kitchen at rush hour hit her like a wave. She stood still for a moment, overwhelmed by the professional scale of this place compared to her small bakery.

“Here are fifty desserts as ordered,” she said, trying to regain her composure as a tall man wearing a white chef's uniform walked over to check the order.

Luong Viet Khang picked up a passion fruit tart, carefully observed the crispy crust and delicately shaped layer of passion fruit cream, then tasted a small piece. His eyes, which were always cold and strict, suddenly revealed a surprise that was hard to hide.

"Who makes these cakes?" he asked, his voice still holding its usual sternness but containing a genuine curiosity.

"Me," Diem Tram replied, a bit confused by the unexpected question. "Is there a problem with the quality of the cake?"

"No," Khang replied, putting down the cake, his eyes still not leaving her. "On the contrary, this is one of the best passion fruit tarts I've tasted in many years of working. Her technique of balancing sweet and sour flavors is truly outstanding."

That unexpected compliment made Diem Tram surprised, although she still maintained her composure on the outside. "Thank you," she replied. "If there's no problem, I'll excuse myself, it's quite late."

Khang looked at the figure of the girl who was hastily turning around to leave the kitchen, a thought suddenly flashed in his mind - a bold, almost crazy thought, but perhaps, it was the answer he was desperately looking for to the difficult problem that his grandmother's will had posed.