His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 24

Liam’s gaze hit me like a slap.

Sharp. Cold. Furious.

For a second, I forgot how to move, and how to breathe. I was still bent slightly forward, Mason’s hands on my waist, my body caught in the rhythm… until It wasn’t. I straightened so fast I nearly stumbled, heat rushing to my face as I pulled away like I’d been caught stealing.

But it was too late.

Liam had seen everything.

His jaw ticked once. His eyes blazed through me, as if I’d betrayed him.

Which was absurd. We weren’t together. He wasn’t mine.

So why did I feel like a wife caught cheating?

My pulse thudded hard in my ears. Mason, ever smooth, didn’t make it awkward. If he noticed the sudden change in the air, he gave no sign. He just leaned in and whispered near my ear, “You good?”

I nodded quickly. A lie.

“I need some water,” I muttered, ducking away before I did something stupid. Like screaming.

I spotted Jay holding court near the bar, looking as calm as ever. Like he hadn’t just witnessed my slow descent into emotional chaos.

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Chapter 24

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“You said Liam never comes to these,” I hissed, brushing damp hair from my forehead, still dizzy from adrenaline.

Jay raised a brow, swirling his drink with a smirk. “He doesn’t. But clearly, the twerking signal was too strong to ignore.”

“Jay.”

“Hey, I’m just the messenger,” he said with a mock bow. “Or maybe your seductive dance moves summoned him. Who’s to say?”

I smacked his arm. “You’re insufferable.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Liam didn’t stay. He scanned the room one last time, his eyes landing on me with that same furious storm and then he turned around and walked out without a word.

No explanation. No goodbye. Just gone.

Like smoke slipping out of a room.

As the night wore on, the glitter began to fade. People filtered out in clusters, laughing, tripping, dragging their heels along the marble floors. The wild energy that had once filled the air now hung heavy and slow.

Eventually, it was just us.

Jay. Sophia. Me.

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And a sea of half–finished drinks and party confetti.

I collapsed onto the plush rug near the coffee table, clutching a solo cup filled with something pink and dangerous. My limbs felt like jelly, and my brain… well, that was still trying to catch up with the rest of me.

Jay tossed a pillow in my direction. “You okay, Mystery Girl?”

I groaned. “I swear if you call me that one more time…”

“What? That’s your official name now. Has a nice ring to it. Kinda poetic.”

Sophia, still radiant even with glitter in her hair and eyeliner smudged under her eyes, chimed in, “Emily, please tell me you at least had fun. That booty didn’t lie.”

“Oh, she put in work,” Jay added. “I thought we were gonna have to throw money.”

“You both need help,” I mumbled, dropping my head into the pillow.

Sophia laughed, curling up on the chaise. “Okay, but real question. What was that with Liam? He came in, stared you down like you stole from him, and dipped.”

I sighed, rolling onto my back. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”

Jay raised a brow. “Biggest lie I’ve heard all night.”

“I don’t!” I said, too quickly. “We’re nothing. You know how he can be when he’s in one of

his moods.”

Sophia propped herself up on one elbow. “Then why did he look like he wanted to punch Mason and lock you in a tower?”

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“Jealousy,” Jay sing–songed.

“Jealousy is stupid,” I muttered. “I’m not his.”

“That’s the point,” Sophia said softly. “That’s why it hurts.”

I grabbed the nearest throw pillow and launched it at Jay, who caught it without flinching.

Silence fell again, easy, warm, a little sad.

I stared at the ceiling. “Do you ever feel like you’re trapped in a game you didn’t sign up for?”

Jay draped a blanket over me. “All the time.”

Sophia stretched, her crown of curls catching the low light. “Get some sleep, Em. Tomorrow‘ s the main event. You’ll need all the energy you can get.”

“Yay,” I muttered, half-hearted.

But my mind wasn’t on the party.

It was on Liam.

And that look…like I’d crossed a line we never defined but both knew existed.

The early morning sun cut into the room like a blade, dragging me out of sleep.

I groaned, curling deeper into the unfamiliar sheets. My mouth tasted like regret and something vaguely strawberry–flavored. My head throbbed in a steady, angry rhythm.

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F

Everything hurts.

From the floor beside me, I heard a faint snore, followed by the rustle of sheets.

“Sophia,” I croaked, pushing myself up slowly. “Tell me we hallucinated Liam last night.”

Her voice came muffled from under a blanket. “Nope. That man saw your booty do unspeakable things. Sorry.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I need a priest.”

“Mm–mm. Not on my birthday.”

A knock came at the door, followed by Jay’s chipper voice. “Rise and shine, sinners. Breakfast is in the courtyard. Bring your hangovers.”

“I’m never drinking again,” I mumbled.

Sophia sat up, glitter still sparkling on her shoulder. “I bet you said that the last time.”

“Yeah, but this time I mean it.”

“Come on,” she said, climbing out of bed. “Pancakes fix everything.”

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