Rob Li Private Chef Novels & Stories

"We have arrived, Young Master. Chef Pierre is awaiting your arrival inside the private kitchen." ​"Thank you, Albert. You may wait outside," Liam said quickly, desperate to escape the watchful glare of his mother's spy. ​"My apologies, Young Master. Lady Elizabeth explicitly commanded me to document your culinary experience as a keepsake. I shall accompany you inside and remain stationed in the corner of the room," Albert replied completely devoid of expression, instantly shattering Liam’s hope of placating Chloe's mounting rage inside the venue. ​They stepped into an ultra-luxurious, state-of-the-art private kitchen. A middle-aged man dressed in a pristine white chef's uniform welcomed the

Gregory had clearly just come back from a meeting, but he'd effortlessly slipped into the role of the family chef. "Wow, you're quite the workhorse," Louie said. Leaning against the fridge, he watched Gregory expertly drop the ravioli into boiling water, then scoop them out as they floated, drain them, and serve them on a plate already filled with sauce. His movements were smooth and practiced, like a pro chef at a restaurant. He'd even recreated the side dishes from Hale Eatery perfectly. "You're so skilled. Are you planning to steal someone's job?" Louie teased.

And Chris—barefoot, wearing a wildly patterned shirt and holding a spatula like a microphone—greeted us like royalty. “My favorite trauma buddies!” he cried, hugging us both. “Welcome to the soft launch of my emotional stability.” “You’ve redecorated,” Damian noted, impressed. “I had a coupon and a mental breakdown. Target heals.” I laughed. “What’s cooking?” Chris winked. “Risotto. Mushroom, truffle, butter—basically seduction in a pan.” Guests trickled in. Old colleagues. A few fellow chefs. Everyone had stories, drinks, and that quiet gratitude you only find among people who’ve known pain.

His instincts had been right. Everything was a set-up by his assistant. And here he was thinking that she'd never return. “Relax, Liam… eat your food,” she stuttered. “Then listen to my story. I swear I'll explain everything- I'll make you understand-” “Did you cook these?” Liam cut her off. Suddenly, he wasn't in the mood to eat anything. He didn't want to listen to any story. His ears would bleed from listening to more lies. “If only I can remember how to cook,” she replied. “The Chef made them.”

Others preferred a more heroic kind of rumor that said he was living a double life where he fought crime at night just like Bruce Wayne of Gotham City. Whatever it was, the name Gabriel Love was a household name in Lancaster, and Jamie was still in shock that she had slept with the infamous billionaire. Perry rubbed Jamie’s arms up and down, “Breathe … breathe … Jamie … you got this … come on, get yourself together … you look like you just seen a ghost,” Perry tried to comfort her. “I think I just did … given the things people say about him … how could I not know it?” “You couldn’t have known it, I only knew how he looked because I’ve been to a function where he attended … that explains why

The first was with his mentor. To cover up his shame, and to show off his good title, Ronjon pulled his most important I.D., with the prestigious hotel's name, Bengal Royal Hotel, the top one in the country. He displayed it like a trophy to Charbi and under his name as Head Chef. He took another calling card and handed it. Charbi accepted the object and read Punjab Delights, one of the most famous magazines. It had the chef's name with more titles, Consultant Chef and Content Writers Department Head. Charbi's eyes turned round. He blinked and read again and looked at Ronjon while pointing his finger on the card and to the owner. Ronjon's lips curved up.

“Why did you just say, Miss? Why must you lie?" “You looked really serious when you served it. So, forgive me!” Mrs. Smith sampled the dish. But she was sure it was not as bad as Liam said. So, she contacted Alpha Troy to taste her food. Liam bet Alpha Troy wouldn't come just to taste Mrs. Smith's cooking. But he was slapped by reality because Alpha Troy came. Liam and Amora gaped for a very long time, especially when Alpha Troy devoured all of Mrs. Smith's cooking and praised her.

“I’ve actually not attended college yet. But I plan to… as soon as I can.” The old man shifted in his seat. Clearly very unimpressed with her answers. “And your nephilim powers. Any sign of them?” Lori shook her head. “Not really. I didn’t even know I was one till Gabriel found out.” Gabriel nodded. “It’s true.” “Interesting.” The man mused. He didn’t sound convinced. “The chef made your favorite. Venison.” “I’m not quite hungry now. Maybe a glass of wine first will do.” He said and Gabriel nodded as he signaled to the chef to bring them some wine.

The chef looked kind of bothered, who wouldn't the couple sitting in front of him were influential and a single bad review from them might be the end of the restaurant. "The food tastes familiar so I wanted to know if it's a chef I know, there is no problem so feel free," Keith said. "Okay, his name is Bruce Wayne," he said and Keith chuckled. "From the Bruce Lee family?" Lindsey asked and Keith scoffed. "Isn't he like the owner of this place?" Keith asked. "Yes sir," He said. "Thanks, you can now go," Lindsey said and the chef excused himself.

She answered softly, "Hmm. Let's have steak. I want that for dinner. Jovie's been craving it for a while as well." "Alright. I'll make steak tonight," Liam replied with a smile before watching Celena get on a bus. It was only then he felt relieved enough to turn around and leave. If the people at the Pendragon War Zone saw him like that, they would probably drop their jaws. He was the commander-in-chief of the Pendragon Warriors who commanded hundreds and thousands of soldiers. However, he became the cook of the family. Liam, himself, did not think anything was embarrassing about a man cooking in the kitchen. On the contrary, he was quite proud of it because Celena loved his cooking.