His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 133

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…”

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.

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Chapter 133

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 this storm.

The weeks that followed were harder than I let anyone see.

When Sophia wasn’t around, Cassie filled the silence with little jabs- quiet, calculated moves meant to chip at me piece by piece. With Liam swallowed whole by back–to–back meetings, she had all the room she needed to maneuver.

Her goal was obvious. She wanted me to break first. But I didn’t give her the satisfaction.

The media stayed quiet, my cooking show thrived, and my studio became my escape.

One afternoon, I was setting up lights for a shoot when I realized my phone wasn’t in my bag. I’d

left it at the house.

The recording went well, but as soon as I wrapped, I drove back to grab it.

The driveway was empty, garage doors closed. I let myself in, and that’s when I saw a man walking out of the front door.

Tall. Dark jacket. Baseball cap low over his face. His eyes met mine for half a second before he brushed past me without a word.

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Chapter 133

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