His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 179

Chapter 179

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Chapter 179

A few days later, Mason officially joined the family circle. Henry and Laura had invited him to lunch aller Sophia told them she was dating him.

Henry’s voice carried the weight of a father’s warning. “Hurt my daughter, Mason, and you’ll answer to me. She’s my only one.”

Mason, to his credit, took it without flinching, assuring them his intentions were real. It was a very Black family kind of welcome, fierce, protective, and wholehearted. That day marked the shift: Sophia and Mason were no longer simply dating. They were a couple in every sense, and everyone knew it.

Sophia reacted in her own way. She made her Instagram private, limiting her online presence.

I asked her one afternoon, “Soph, what’s with putting your Instagram on private? You know you can’t hide forever.”

She looked at me, unbothered, and shrugged. “It’s not hiding, Emily. It’s more like… self- preservation. I know myself. If someone talks trash about me online, I won’t ignore it. I’ll clap back, cuss them out, and probably hunt them down offline too. Better to cut it off before it starts.”

“1

I couldn’t help laughing because, honestly, I believed her. Sophia wasn’t bluffing, if anyone could take an online feud to someone’s front door, it was her.

Her wariness wasn’t limited to social media. She treated the paparazzi like a game she refused to lose, plotting her moves so precisely they never managed to corner her.

Meanwhile, my due date loomed closer, two weeks away. The house hummed with a nervous sort of excitement, everyone waiting, watching me like I might go into labor at any second.

When Sophia’s birthday rolled around, she shocked everyone by refusing her usual over-the-top bash.

“No venues. No big party,” she declared. “If I announce something, it’ll leak to the paps. So, just family. Me, Mason, Jay, Liam, and you. That’s all.”

The night before her birthday, the night she would normally have thrown one of her legendary parties, she and I decorated the living room ourselves. String lights, flowers, a scattering of balloons. Nothing extravagant, just cozy and warm. We ordered food and drinks, then waited.

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Chapter 170

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Jay and Mason arrived together, and soon the house filled with laughter Mason and Liam spoke with an ease that would have been unthinkable weeks ago, joking and trading stories like old buddies. The atmosphere was light, threaded with music and conversation that made the hours slip b

The conversation drifted toward the business side of music, with Liam laying things out in the way only he could. Mason and Jay exchanged looks, listening with a mix of respect and amusement, trying to figure out if Liam was giving advice or just showing off

After a while. Liam’s expression shifted into a grin. “Alright, enough of that. Let’s do something

fun

He reached for the chessboard and started arranging the pieces with steady care. Mason, to everyone’s surprise, accepted the challenge without a second thought.

Sophia immediately declared her allegiance, cheering Mason on shamelessly and even clapping whenever he made a decent move, her excitement filling the room.

“You’re supposed to be neutral,” Liam pointed out.

“Neutral? Please. Mason’s going to crush you,” she fired back.

I smirked from where I sat. “Don’t listen to her. I’m on your side, Liam.”

Jay stretched out on the couch. “I’ll support whoever wins. Saves me the trouble.”

”

The game began, tense and playful. Mason was better than expected, but Liam’s focus held a playful certainty, his confidence shining through every move. He won the first round with a quiet

smirk.

“Beginner’s luck,” Mason muttered, resetting the pieces.

“Want to bet on the second round?” Liam asked, eyebrow raised.

And so it started again, fiercer this time. Sophia kept egging Mason on, her cheers bouncing off the walls. I laughed along, until a sharp tug in my abdomen stole my breath.

I froze, my hand pressing against my stomach. Not yet, I told myself. Just Braxton Hicks. It has to

But then another wave hit. And another.

I began counting the intervals in my head, just like I’d read and been advised to do. Ten minutes apart. Each one sharper than the last. My pulse raced.

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