His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 146

I managed to keep up by posting pre–recorded videos, hit the idea of going live again? Impossible. One whull of sauteed garlic and the internet would know I was pregnant.

1 am and Sophia found my frustration hilarious. Every time I snapped, they exchanged a look like they were keeping score

“I’ll get better.” Sophia promised one morning, patting my shoulder with mock sympathy. “Until then, let me know when you want me to start filming your live shows. I look great under kitchen lighting”

Cassic, meanwhile, had vanished. Which should have been a relief, but instead left me uneasy. Cassie only disappeared when she was plotting.

I found out how right I was that afternoon.

Sophia and I had been scrolling through property listings when I ducked into the kitchen for a drink. The house was quiet. Too quiet.

I had just grabbed a glass when Cassie appeared in the doorway.

“I’m starving.” she said sweetly. “Would you mind making me lunch?”

I gave her a flat stare, hissed under my breath, and moved to brush past her. I wasn’t engaging her. Not today.

But I didn’t get two steps.

Her hand lashed out, seizing my hair. Pain tore across my scalp as she yanked me backward. My balance snapped, I hit the floor hard, breath knocked clean from my lungs.

The burn in my head was sharp, white–hot. My heart stuttered with one thought only: the baby.

And then I screamed, raw and desperate:

“Sophia!”

Sophia appeared almost the moment I screamed her name.

The fear in her eyes when she saw me crumpled on the floor nearly undid me. She didn’t spare Cassie a glance, not even when Cassie started stammering, “It was a mistake, I’m sorry, it was a

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Chapter 146

mistake…” over and over like a broken record.

288 (Vouchers

Sophia slipped her arm under mine, helped me to my feet, and guided me straight out of the house. Within minutes she had me in the car and was driving like the devil was chasing us.

She hadn’t said a word. Her hands strangled the steering wheel, her knuckles white, her jaw locked. For a moment I was more afraid of her silence than of what had just happened.

“Sophia.” I whispered. “slow down. Please.”

That cracked her. She exhaled hard, her voice breaking. “Sorry.” Then, almost under her breath, she began to pray

“Dear God, it’s me. I know we haven’t talked in a long time, but please… please don’t take her. Let my niece be alright. Please, God. Please.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and I bit mine back, clutching my stomach and holding on to the desperate hope that someone out there was listening.

By the time we reached the hospital, Liam was already waiting. The doctor whisked me away for examination, Sophia filling him in.

When the doctor returned, his expression was carefully measured.

“It’s a threatened miscarriage. We’ll need to monitor you overnight. If you’re stable by morning, you can go home.”

The words landed heavy. The room went still.

Finally, Liam broke it, his tone rough with barely checked anger. “Sophia. Please tell me Cassie is dead. Or nearly there.”

Sophia’s lips pressed thin. “I was too focused on Emily and the baby. But now that they’re safe…” She looked at Liam, and in that look, some silent sibling vow passed between them.

The next second, they were both out of the room.

“Don’t tell my mother!” I called after them, panic bubbling in my throat. But the door had already

slammed shut.

When the room finally fell quiet, it hit me. I hadn’t lost the baby yet, but the risk was real and far too close.

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