His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 118

Chapter 118

The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering against the tile, juice spreading onto the rug.

“Oh no,” she said lightly. “Emily, could you help me clean this up? I can’t really bend right now. Her gaze swept over me, and she added with a small shrug. “Oh… right, you wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

Liam started forward, but I caught his arm, holding him still.

Cassie isn’t just here to stay, she’s here to bury me.

But if she thinks I’ll dig my own grave, she’s mistaken.

Sophia was at Liam’s the next morning, just like she promised.

Liam was gone before the sun had a chance to warm the windows. Jay texted at dawn, saying he had to rush to the studio and adding, “Keep an eye on Sophia for me. I’d like to avoid her committing a crime before lunch.”

I thought he was joking, but it didn’t take long to learn he wasn’t.

Sophia had Cassie cornered in the living room before the morning had even settled, pacing with the sharp intent of someone building a case.

“First, let’s establish something,” she said. “I live here too. Always have. So, If you think your little stay is going to be an easy ride, think again. That means we’ll be under the same roof, Cassie, how thrilling for both of us.”

”

11

Cassie’s smile twitched, just enough to betray that the thought didn’t thrill her in the slightest, but she masked it quickly.

Sophia continued, her voice lethal. “We could live peacefully… or not. That depends entirely on how well you follow my rules. Number one- if I ever see you anywhere near Liam’s room, you’re asking for war. Number two- no special treatment, no playing the victim. We both know who the villain in this story is, and it’s not me.”

She stepped closer, the air between them tightening. “Number three- don’t start anything you can‘ t finish. Think every move through, because if you come for me or mine, it will backfire in ways you won’t like. And finally…”

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Chapter 118

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Sophia’s eyes cut to me for the briefest second before locking back on Cassie. “Stay the hell out of Emily’s space. If I ever see a tear in her eyes that you caused, trust me, one of us will end up in jail, the other in a grave. And you’re smart enough to know which is which.”

I sat on the arm of the chair, watching their back–and–forth like a front–row spectator to a heavyweight fight. The funny thing was Cassie, the queen of sly remarks, she appeared… smaller under Sophia’s stare. Not conquered. But calculating.

Cassie’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She shifted on the sofa, folding her hands over her belly like a shield. “I’m pregnant, Sophia. I don’t need stress right now.

“You don’t need stress?” Sophia arched a brow. “Then don’t hand it out.”

She leaned in, her voice dropping into something softer, but far more dangerous. “You know, I’ve been reading about pregnancy. Figured I should, since I’m about to be an aunt. One thing that stood out? How miscarriages are pretty common in the first trimester.” Sophia’s eyes held hers. “You know about that… don’t you?”

Cassie’s swallowed hard. She mumbled something about needing rest for the baby and rose from the sofa, retreating toward her room like the air had turned too thin to breathe.

When she finally disappeared down the hall, I couldn’t hold it in, my laugh slipped out, sharp and low, the kind you let out when you’ve just witnessed something ruthless and beautiful.

“She’s terrified of you,” I said, still grinning.

Sophia eased back into the sofa, satisfaction written all over her face.

“Trust me,” she murmured, like it was a promise, “she should be. Very scared.”

“I love you,” I said honestly.

“More than you love Liam?”

I snorted. “Slow down, that’s a stretch.”

“Traitor.” She smirked, then nudged my knee. “Fine. At least promise me you’ll name your first kid after me.”

“Sophia, that might not…‘

”

She cut me off with a smile. “Faith, Emily. Faith.”

I didn’t promise it out loud. But in my head, I promised something else, that I’d hold on through

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