Lahat ng Kabanata ng The chef and The charmer: Kabanata 131 - Kabanata 140

Evelyn’s POVThe sea was warm, a slow, honeyed lull beneath the fading afternoon sun. Its gentle swells cradled me, rocking me in a way I’d never known before: as if the water itself welcomed me into its fold, whispered secrets only I could hear. My arms floated wide, fingertips trailing ripples that fanned out in perfect concentric circles. Above me, the sky glowed pale gold, the last vestiges of daylight stretching like silk across the horizon.I closed my eyes, letting the sun’s warmth soften the lines of tension around my shoulders. I thought of every sharp moment I’d weathered in recent months—the whispered betrayals, the nights I lay awake wondering whether I’d ever feel at peace again. But here, weightless and humming with salt and possibility, none of it mattered. It all dissolved into the vast blue, and I surrendered to the bliss of being exactly where I was.From the edge of the deck—our private sanctuary, perched on stilts above the water—Damian watched me. He leaned casual

Evelyn’s POVThe city hit me like a fistful of cold wind.After days of sun-warmed skin, barefoot walks, and nights spent under skies thick with stars, New York felt sharp—too loud, too fast. Even the air tasted different, metallic where the Bahamas had tasted like salt and fruit.Damian’s arm stayed around my waist as we stepped out of the private car. The Blackstone Tower loomed above us, its glass shimmering in the winter sunlight like something untouchable.“Home,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to my temple.For a moment, I just stared up. The last time I’d looked at this building, I’d been running on adrenaline and painkillers, with cameras flashing in my face and my body aching from Lawrence’s violence.And now? Now I was walking in as Evelyn Blackstone.We rode the elevator in silence. My reflection stared back at me in the mirrored walls: sun-bronzed skin, loose curls spilling over my shoulders, the soft white cashmere sweater Damian insisted I wear because the city was free

Evelyn’s POVLater that afternoon, after most of the brunch dishes had been cleared and the sun had begun to dip low enough to cast golden shadows across the garden paths, I excused myself for a walk.I didn’t get far.The estate was deceptively vast—stone paths that twisted between hydrangea hedges, and koi ponds edged in smooth black marble—but familiar now. I’d walked them enough times over the past several weeks to know which ones ended in silence, and which ones pulled you toward company.Today, I’d been aiming for silence.“Evelyn!”I turned.Celeste caught up to me near the koi pond, barefoot, holding her wedges in one hand and brushing her curls from her face with the other. The hem of her dress danced just above her ankles, and the golden light caught in her hair like something from a portrait.She looked different than she did when I first met her—less like someone afraid of breaking something and more like someone finally learning how to hold herself.“Hey,” she said, breat

EVELYN POV Penthouse, Late AfternoonThe door clicked shut behind us with a soft finality, and for a moment, the penthouse felt too still. Too quiet. I stood in the entryway, clutching my purse like it was the only thing keeping me grounded. My heart was still racing. The doctor’s voice still echoed in my head like a cruel reminder I couldn’t silence. “You’re pregnant… but with your previous pelvic injury, we’ll need to monitor you closely. There could be complications. It’s too early to say anything definitive — but it won’t be an easy pregnancy.”I felt Damian’s eyes on me before I heard his footsteps. My legs moved on their own, leading me to the living room where the late afternoon sun painted the floors gold. I sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on my knees, hands gripping my hair.“I’m scared,” I whispered, staring down at the floor like it held all the answers. “Damian, I’m so damn scared.”He didn’t rush me. Just crossed the room quietly, setting his phone and keys down on

EVELYN POVThe next morning, they discharged me with strict instructions: no overexertion, no heavy lifting, no unnecessary stress. Dr. Ramirez’s words echoed in my mind like a mantra. I could walk, but only short distances. I could cook if I wanted, but Damian practically banned me from the kitchen.Back at the penthouse, Damian shifted into full-on protector mode. My usual spot on the couch now had extra pillows and a thick blanket. A small table nearby held everything I might need—water, snacks, my phone, even a bell in case I needed him and he was in another room. It was sweet, but sometimes I caught him watching me with that guarded expression, like he was memorizing each breath I took.The first week home was slow and quiet. Damian worked from his home office, checking on me every hour. Chris stopped by twice, always bringing something—flowers, soup, or those ridiculous baby socks shaped like tiny sneakers. Morgan called daily to check in, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it