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Chapter 78

Author: Amycee
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-24 02:05:58

There’s something strangely healing about building something with your hands, especially when it’s for yourself.

The studio was finally coming together. Tripods, soundproofing panels, and ring lights were scattered across the room like puzzle pieces. My new kitchen island gleamed under soft lighting. There was a faint smell of fresh wood and paint, a clean start in every breath.

Sophia lay flat on the floor, fanning herself dramatically with the user manual for the camera rig. “I’m just saying… when Liam Black sets you up, he doesn’t play.”

“Don’t start,” I warned, tightening a clamp on the boom mic.

She sat up with a smirk. “I mean, look at this oven. It’s got Wi-Fi. Does it cook or file your taxes?”

My mom chuckled from the doorway, holding a tray of lemon water. “It’s beautiful, Em. Really. This place feels like… you.”

I blinked back a sudden wave of emotion. “Yeah. It does.”

We were finally done setting up the space I’d dreamed of but never dared to want. It was modern, sleek, and
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  • His Private Chef   Chapter 79

    Gray sweatpants. Black T-shirt. Hair wrecked by the wind or maybe his own restless hands. One of Liam’s knuckles looked scraped. His eyes were bloodshot, not from tears, but from everything he wasn’t saying. He wasn’t the man who made headlines.He was just a man. Standing at my door. Wrecked.“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said.“I know.”His voice was low, like it cost him something to get the words out. Not drunk enough to be sloppy. Just drunk enough to tell the truth.“I saw the photos,” he said, still not stepping inside. His voice wasn’t sharp. Just tired. Bruised. “You and Mason. You looked…”He didn’t finish that sentence.I crossed my arms, more to steady myself than to guard anything.“I get it. I don’t have the right to ask questions,” he said quietly. “But I still want to know. Is he asking you out?”“That’s not your business anymore,” I replied, my voice steady even though my hands were not.“Maybe not.” He took a breath. “But I’m asking anyway.”Then he looked at m

  • His Private Chef   Chapter 78

    There’s something strangely healing about building something with your hands, especially when it’s for yourself.The studio was finally coming together. Tripods, soundproofing panels, and ring lights were scattered across the room like puzzle pieces. My new kitchen island gleamed under soft lighting. There was a faint smell of fresh wood and paint, a clean start in every breath.Sophia lay flat on the floor, fanning herself dramatically with the user manual for the camera rig. “I’m just saying… when Liam Black sets you up, he doesn’t play.”“Don’t start,” I warned, tightening a clamp on the boom mic.She sat up with a smirk. “I mean, look at this oven. It’s got Wi-Fi. Does it cook or file your taxes?”My mom chuckled from the doorway, holding a tray of lemon water. “It’s beautiful, Em. Really. This place feels like… you.”I blinked back a sudden wave of emotion. “Yeah. It does.”We were finally done setting up the space I’d dreamed of but never dared to want. It was modern, sleek, and

  • 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

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    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

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