Library
Search
Home / Romance / The chef and The charmer / chapter 89

Share

chapter 89

Author: muse
last update Last Updated: 2025-05-18 01:18:25

Evelyn pov

Paris was a strange kind of beautiful.

Cold but golden. Busy but hushed. It moved like it knew secrets I hadn’t earned yet.

I stood at the open balcony of the hotel on Rue Saint-Honoré, the Eiffel Tower winking at me from a respectful distance. The scent of espresso and rain crept through the iron railing. Below, the city pulsed like it had its own heart.

For the first time in months, I could hear myself breathe.

Not in whispers. Not between tears. But fully — like my lungs finally belonged to me again.

The culinary summit was everything I’d imagined. Elegant chaos. Precision masked as artistry. The best chefs in the world — some warm, some cutthroat. I stood behind the pass like I belonged, and for the first time in a long time, I believed I did.

The room gasped when I flambéed duck à l’orange with spiced cognac and fennel glaze. I’d never heard applause in a kitchen before. It felt unnatural.

But addictive.

Chef Genevieve kissed both my cheeks. “La magie est revenue,” she
Continue to read this book for free
Scan code to download App
Locked Chapter
Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Latest chapter

  • The chef and The charmer    chapter 122

    Evelyn’s POVI stared at the unsigned TV contract for the fifth time that morning.Something in me ached—not from fear, not from lack of opportunity. But because I knew this wasn’t the time. Not for me.Not yet.I picked up my phone and called Chris.He answered on the third ring, cheerful and chaotic as always. “Yo! Chef-turned-TV-star, what’s the—”“I’m not signing it.”Silence.Then: “Okay. Talk to me.”I sat down at the edge of the kitchen table, the light filtering through the window dancing on my fingertips.“I thought I wanted it. Maybe part of me still does. But I’m not ready—not for the camera, not for the pressure. Not for people picking me apart before I’ve even put myself back together.”Chris didn’t speak for a long time.Finally: “I’ll call the producer. Don’t worry about it.”“Are you mad?”He snorted. “Mad? Evelyn, I respect the hell out of you for knowing your limit. The deal will still be there when you are ready—if you ever want it. And if not, there are other kitch

  • The chef and The charmer   chapter 121

    Evelyn’s POVSomething is not right with Damian. I can just feel it.He’s been staring into space and seems like to be distracted a lot. I’ve tried to ask him what’s up, but he just brushes it off and says, “I’m fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”Sighing, I continue to stir at the soup on the stove. Despite everything I’ve been through, cooking has always been something that grounds me. Although I lost my spark and momentum for a while, through the help of therapy, I’m slowly getting the spark back.But I’m far from ready.The deal with the TV producer still lingers at the back of my mind, and to be honest, I don’t think I’m ready for something this big.an invitation came by text later that nightChris texted me like he always did—no punctuation, no warning, and maximum enthusiasm:“house thing. Friday night. you + Damian. wine mandatory. i’ll cook unless you wanna. bring your face.”I showed Damian the message while brushing my teeth. He leaned on the doorframe, half-smiling.“W

  • The chef and The charmer   chapter 120

    Damian’s POVThere was a moment during the kidnapping when I stopped fighting.It wasn’t the ropes that did it. Or the sting of Lawrence’s backhand. It wasn’t even the blood—mine or Chris’s.It was Evelyn.The way she looked at me across that cold, concrete floor, her body curled around a broken rib and a bruised dream. Her eyes held fear—but worse, they held blame. Not for what I’d done, but for what I hadn’t stopped.For all my power, for all the empires I’d built—when it really counted, I couldn’t protect her.And in that moment, something inside me collapsed.I wasn’t Damian Blackstone, CEO, strategist, king of boardrooms.I was just a man who’d failed the one person who mattered most.After the rescue, I went home, scrubbed the blood off my skin, and stood in front of the mirror.I didn’t recognize the man staring back.I’d lost weight. Color. Certainty. The edges of my jaw had sharpened in places that didn’t feel like strength. My eyes had sunk into shadows that no sleep could u

  • The chef and The charmer   chapter 119

    Evelyn’s POVIt started with a photograph.I’d been cleaning out the drawer beside the bed when I found it—creased at the corners, stuck to the bottom of a journal I hadn’t opened in months. A photo Damian had snapped one lazy Sunday long before everything unraveled.I was in the kitchen, hair messy, apron dusted with flour, laughing at something he’d said. A smear of raspberry jam stained the corner of my mouth.We weren’t even trying, back then.Just living.But I stared at that picture for a long time.Long enough to remember that somewhere in me, the dream of family hadn’t died.It had just gone quiet.The next morning, I placed the photo face-down on the counter, poured two mugs of coffee, and waited for Damian to shuffle into the kitchen like the half-asleep oracle he always was before 9 a.m.He blinked at me, smiled, and sipped.“You’re too awake. What did I miss?”“I was thinking about adoption.”He paused, mid-sip.I watched him. Studied every subtle shift in his expression.N

  • The chef and The charmer   chapter 118

    Evelyn’s POVThe kitchen smelled like citrus and nerves.Not fear—no, not exactly. But that metallic edge where adrenaline lived, sharp and bracing. A kind of buzzing under the skin. My prep station was spotless. Chopping boards aligned like disciplined soldiers. Every towel folded with ritualistic precision. Every knife sharpened to a familiar hum, their handles worn in the same places my fingers used to call home.But my hands?They were shaking.This kitchen was foreign and familiar all at once. I hadn’t stood in a professional kitchen in months. Not since the hospital. Not since Lawrence. Not since everything shattered and Damian and I gathered the pieces in silence, rebuilding ourselves with the glue of shared pain and private love.Tonight wasn’t about critics or press or Michelin stars. It wasn’t about ego. Or redemption.It was about me.My return. My risk. One night only.A pop-up dinner at a reclaimed warehouse-turned-restaurant. The kind of space that was all the rage—expo

  • The chef and The charmer   chapter 117

    Evelyn’s POVChris looked ridiculous the moment he stepped out of the hospital.Not because of the crutch tucked awkwardly under one arm or the paper bag of discharge meds clutched like a lifeline in the other.But because he wore the most absurdly large sunglasses I’d ever seen—big, round, tinted like a disco ball from the 70s, completely at odds with the hospital wristband still dangling from his wrist.“Really?” I asked, trying not to laugh as I opened the passenger door and helped him in gently.“They’re vintage,” he said solemnly, like he was discussing something sacred. “And emotionally protective.”Damian snorted from behind me, grabbing the paper bag and tossing it into the backseat. “You’re a menace.”Chris settled into the leather seat like a king returning from war, his whole body sighing into the cushions. “You say that, but you love me.”We both did.That’s why we were bringing him home. That’s why Damian cleared his schedule since he sometimes receives work emails, and I

More Chapters

You may also like

Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on GoodNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP
DMCA.com Protection Status