All Chapters of The chef and The charmer: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Evelyn povI’m not the type of person who easily lets others in. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. After everything with Eric, I built walls so high that no one could see the real me, and I swore I’d never let myself feel that vulnerable again.But something about Damien… something about the way he’s been showing up these past few days has been shaking those walls, brick by brick. It scares the hell out of me.I’m not sure what to do with these feelings. I can’t even recognize them anymore. Every time I think I’ve gotten a grip on my emotions, every time I convince myself to keep him at arm’s length, he does something else—something small, something thoughtful—that pulls me closer.Like when he showed up unannounced last week with my coffee blend, leaving a note with just a simple, “For peace, and your heart. – D.”Or the way he’s been learning my recipes, helping me prep when I’ve been overwhelmed, or how he’s been asking about my business like he actually cares. I kn

“This just came for Evelyn,” the man said, handing the bouquet over with a forced smile before leaving just as quickly.My stomach twisted. Damien reached for the envelope tucked among the stems and handed it to me wordlessly. I opened it with trembling fingers.The card was plain. No logo. No handwriting I recognized.Just three words, elegantly scripted in dark ink:From yours, beloved E.I stared at the words, a cold shiver running down my spine.“They know,” I whispered. “Whoever this is… they’re watching me. Us.”I expected Damien to explode. To start pacing or pointing fingers or getting angry all over again. But he didn’t. Not this time.Instead, he stepped closer and gently took the card from my hand. He looked at it once, jaw tight, then looked at me. But his eyes held something softer than fear.“I won’t let anything happen to you, Evelyn,” he said, voice steady. “Whoever this is—whatever they’re trying to do—we’ll face it together.”I blinked, surprised by the calm in his t

Evelyn povThe night air at the Montgomery estate was cool, but it did nothing to settle the heat rising in my chest.The engagement party was over. The guests had filtered out, their designer perfumes lingering in the air like ghosts of expectations. But my thoughts were louder than any violin melody we’d faked smiles to during the evening.The massive oak doors to the ballroom shut behind us with a soft, resounding thud, but the silence between me and Damian? That was deafening.I stood at the foot of the grand staircase, clutching my clutch too tightly as I turned to him. “Are we going to talk about this?”His eyes flickered to me for a split second, then away again. “About what?”“About us, Damian.”He loosened his bow tie with one hand and sighed as though I’d just asked him to solve global warming with a toothpick. “Evelyn, we’ve had a long night.”I stepped in front of him, blocking his path toward the hallway. “Exactly. A long night of pretending to be engaged. A long night of

POV: Evelyn They say healing comes in waves. Mine came in chaos—cryptic messages, my ex boyfriend lies, and a man I never meant to fall for.It started with a trap. Damian and I, cornered by secrets and shadows, devised a plan to catch the ghost who had been haunting me—“E.”Even now, the memory makes my chest tighten. We whispered code words in hushed voices, mapped out decoy routes, and layered truth with just enough fiction to bait someone clever enough to stay hidden for weeks I remember how shaky my hands felt as I tied my shoelaces the morning it all began. I remember the taste of fear on my tongue, bitter and stubborn.I never expected the enemy to come from my past… from Cold Spring, where I’d spent my life trying to be invisible. E was someone I barely remembered—a former coworker from the diner. She always had something in her eyes when she looked at me. Envy, maybe. Or hatred. Maybe both. Apparently, I’d shined too quietly for her liking.just few days before we caught her

Evelyn povThe penthouse felt quieter tonight, the dim light from the chandelier casting soft shadows on the sleek walls. The city buzzed below, but up here, it felt like a world apart—one that was just mine and Damian’s. The kind of space where, for once, everything else could fade away. The soft clinking of glasses, the hum of the stove, and the sizzle of food in the pan were the only sounds filling the room, and even they felt like they were part of a private rhythm we’d only just begun to understand.I moved in a fluid motion as I sautéed the vegetables in olive oil, a simple but comforting dish that had come to be my way of showing Damian I cared. After everything that had happened, after the tension and misunderstandings, there was something about cooking for him that made me feel like I could finally breathe again. It was the first time in so long that I didn’t feel like I was just pretending to be something I wasn’t. Cooking for Damian was different. It was honest, like the fo