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Chapter 58
Last Updated:
2025-06-30 14:09:06
Latest chapter
His Private Chef Chapter 77
Walking past Cassie felt like stepping over clutter–unnecessary, loud, and easy to ignore.There was no need to ask why she was there, and even less reason to acknowledge her with a smile.Because women like Cassie? They thrive on being seen.And silence? Silence starves them.But she couldn’t help herself.“You know, I used to sit right there too. Years ago.” Her voice dripped behind me as I took my seat by Liam’s window. “The only difference is, he’d have been waiting for me with coffee and a kiss.”Still no response.“I guess no one told you, sweetheart. I’m Liam’s first love.” A pause. “And the only woman he’s ever said ‘forever’ to.”My nails dug into my palm. Calm, Emily. Stay calm.“God, it’s kind of sad,” she added with a tilt to her tone, “how you girls always think you’re the exception. When really, you’re just the placeholder between the real ones.”That one almost landed. Almost.But I turned, met her eyes, and offered her the kind of smile that doesn’t reach the soul.“Ar
His Private Chef Chapter 76
For once, I wasn’t rushing to pack, unpack, survive a heartbreak, or fight my feelings. I was just… existing. A little tired, a little bruised, but undeniably home.After graduation, I took a breath. Then another. My mom cleared her schedule just to spend more time with me. She pushed back her job assignments with that soft smile of hers, saying, “You’ve done enough chasing, baby. Let’s pause and figure out what feels right.”So I paused.No Michelin-star job offers. No chef competitions. Just space. And the quiet to figure out what mattered next.Instead, I leaned into the one thing that kept chasing me, an audience.The Mason tour. The viral photos. The whirlwind of public attention that came with being linked to Liam Black. It all added up to a growing online following–curious, relentless, waiting for my next move. And for the first time, I had something entirely mine to offer.I decided to build something small. Honest. Me.Food vlogging.Nothing too polished. Just stories told th
His Private Chef Chapter 75
Jay wanted a blowout the second I landed in L.A. A ridiculous guest list. I shut it down before he even finished his pitch.“Come on, Emily. Just a soft launch? Your welcome-back era needs champagne.”“Three days, Jay. I need to unpack my life before I celebrate it.”He groaned like I’d just canceled his birthday. “Fine. But I’m still doing something. No take-backs.”That’s how I found myself three nights later in his living room, barefoot, dancing off-beat to a trending TikTok challenge with Jay and Sophia. Party shreds littered the floor. Pizza boxes decorated the counter. And tequila ran heavier than common sense.Jay went all out, despite our “just us” rule. Streamers, balloons, even a custom cake that read: Welcome Back, Chef Emily, Queen of Our Stomachs.Sophia stared at it and burst into laughter. “Jay, you’re unbelievable.”“It’s heartfelt!” he grinned.We danced, shouted lyrics we didn’t know, and collapsed in a heap of limbs and laughter on the rug. My stomach ached. My chee
His Private Chef Chapter 74
The holiday break didn’t crash in with confetti or leave with fanfare. It just slipped through the cracks– soft, still, and quietly necessary.The days blurred into cold mornings and familiar routines. Just life, moving forward in small, quiet steps.When the semester resumed, everything moved faster than I expected. The final term was a blur of masterclasses, industry panels, timed challenges, capstone presentations, and practicals that ran on caffeine and second winds.There was barely time to think about anything else.Not even him.Well… almost.Sophia sent countdown texts like a wedding planner prepping a bride.“Two weeks to freedom, chef girl.”Lisa, in her usual fashion, scheduled mock interviews with me “for fun,” even though she aced everything. Our nights were filled with laughter that spilled past curfews, and nerves we disguised as caffeine highs. And Kelvin, true to his word, respected the line I’d drawn. His name still lit up my phone sometimes, a funny meme or random
His Private Chef Chapter 73
It didn’t happen overnight. The shift was small at first. Subtle. Like someone had peeled away a layer of fog I didn’t even know I’d been walking through.Chef Conrad didn’t yell the next morning. He didn’t sneer when I accidentally sliced my truffles too thin. He didn’t call my name like it was a slur on his tongue.Instead, he nodded. Once.Not a compliment. Not forgiveness. But acknowledgement.And it was enough.For weeks, I’d braced myself for the next blow, the next humiliation. But after Liam’s visit, after that moment outside the office when everything in me cracked open and I let it, something changed.In Conrad. In me.He didn’t become soft. That man didn’t have a soft setting. But the personal edge disappeared. The storm in his eyes when he looked at me dulled to gray.And for the first time, I could breathe in his kitchen.---School moved fast.Too fast.One day I was practicing soufflés until my arms ached, the next I was submitting mock business proposals for my final p
His Private Chef Chapter 72
It had been a month since I buried myself in the intensity of my final year, hoping the pressure of deadlines and the heat of stainless steel kitchens could numb everything I still felt for Liam Black.It worked.Sort of.Chef Conrad Wells was another story."Strict" would’ve been generous. "Ruthless" came closer. But if I was being honest, it was personal.He didn’t just critique, he scrutinized. Didn’t just instruct, he hovered. Every move I made, every stir, every garnish, his eyes were there, sharp and waiting, like he wanted me to break.He made me redo a demi-glace three times during a lunch rush.He swapped my partners so often I could never find rhythm. Gave me the toughest meat cuts. Marked me down for presentation issues others got away with. At first, I thought I was imagining it. Maybe I’d forgotten how to take criticism. But deep down, I knew the truth.This had everything to do with Liam.Maybe he’d seen the gossip blogs. The viral clips. The headlines that once plaste
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