His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 144

Chapter 144

We pulled up to a stretch of land still in development, neat rows of plots with half–built houses, and a sign bearing Liam’s name at the top.

“What is this?” I breathed.

He slipped his hand into mine, proud as ever. “A place I’m developing. For our daughter.”

I turned to him, stunned. “Liam… this is too much.”

“For you? For her? Nothing’s ever too much,” he said, that grin spreading across his face. “Do you like the location? I can always pick a better one.‘

”

I shook my head, still in disbelief. “You don’t even know it’s a girl.”

“I do.” His certainty was maddening. “It’s a girl.”

I narrowed my eyes. “We’ll see. But for the record… I’m happy you’re the father of my child. This baby is lucky.”

He pulled me closer, voice low. “No, Emily. I’m the lucky one. You chose me.

My heart did a flip, but I forced myself to play sternly. “Okay, but you have to slow down with the gifts. The baby isn’t here yet, and you’re already going overboard. I don’t want an over–spoiled child.”

“No more gifts?” His eyes glinted mischievously, which meant only one thing.

I groaned. “What did you do, Liam?”

He scratched the back of his head. “I may have filled one drawer in the closet with… jewelry.”

I blinked at him. “Jewelry. For a baby.”

He shrugged like it was perfectly normal. “Our baby.”

I pressed a hand to my forehead. “This is going to be so much work for me. And I still have to worry about Jay’s behavior once he finds out.‘

Still, as much as I scolded him, I couldn’t hide the warmth swelling in my chest. This child was

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hapter 144

already so loved

Dinner that night was set in Liam’s parents‘ garden, twinkling lights hung above the tables, soft music humming in the background. It was the safest, most private place we could choose.

Everyone was there- Liam’s parents, Jay, my mom. Sophia. To my delight, my mom and Liam’s mom bonded instantly, gossiping like they’d known each other for years instead of hours.

Halfway through the meal, just when the anticipation was peaking, Sophia stood, clapping her

hands for attention.

“I know you’re all wondering why we summoned you,” she said, smirking. “Technically, I was supposed to find out tonight like the rest of you. But lucky me, I got carly access.”

Liam rolled his eyes. I laughed under my breath.

“Anyway.” Sophia continued, “watch the screen.

”

The projector flickered to life. First came clips of Liam’s childhood, then mine- baby pictures, awkward school photos, snippets of laughter from years before we ever knew each other.

Then the screen froze on a slide: Baby Liam + Baby Emily = ?

The garden went still, the quiet humming with tension as every pair of eyes fixed on the screen.

The next slide flashed bold letters across the garden: EMILY IS PREGNANT.

The garden erupted with cheers. My mom and Liam’s mom screamed in unison and then clung to each other, sobbing and laughing all at once. Liam’s dad clasped his son’s shoulder, pride radiating. Jay shot out of his chair, nearly knocking it over, his grin splitting his face.

Then Liam’s mom turned to mine with a triumphant smirk. “Pay up.”

Every head turned.

“Pay up for what?” Liam asked.

“We made a bet,” she said sweetly. “Her money was on proposal. Mine was on pregnancy. Looks like I was right.”

I groaned into my hands as Sophia high–fived her mom.

The joy was still crackling when a voice cut through.

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Chapter 144

“Uncle. I’m sorry. I…”

288 Wachars

Kelvin stopped dead, his eyes locking on the words glowing across the screen. His gaze jumped from me to Liam, then back again.

Silence fell over the table.

From my seat, I caught the look in Liam’s eyes when they landed on Kelvin. The kind of quiet satisfaction you wear when your enemy wanders into your celebration by mistake.

His smile carried the rest.

Victory

Kelvin was never meant to be part of tonight.

He had come for an unfinished business with Liam’s father, a deal still hanging between them.

But instead of leaving once it was done, he lingered, easing into the celebration as though he belonged.

That it happened on this night, of all nights, felt cruelly poetic.

The garden pulsed with warmth and chatter. My mom and Liam’s mom had already found each other, deep in the kind of instant bond only future grandmothers could forge.

Within minutes, they were plotting baby showers, debating names, and half–joking over who would win the title of “favorite grandma.”