His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 95

Chapter 95

Cassie’s eyes nearly fell out of her head.

Liam turned to her. “I’ll have my assistant reschedule.”

“Are you kidding me?” she snapped. “I flew in for this.”

“My woman needs me,” Liam said, his gaze softening as it landed on me. “And whatever she wants… she gets.”

Cassie’s voice rose. “This is completely unprofessional…”

“If I were you,” I said gently, stepping toward her, “I’d leave now. Unless you want to stick around and watch us… you know.” I winked.

We locked eyes.

The message behind mine was clear.

Who’s in charge now, bitch?

I run this room.

No history, no pretty fiction, no faded kisses can change that.

Only me.

Cassie broke the stare first. Grabbed her purse. And slammed the door on her way out.

The room fell quiet.

Then I exhaled and laughed.

Liam stared at me like I’d just rewritten every rule he ever knew.

“What?” I asked, wiping under my eyes.

“I didn’t know you were capable of that level of cruelty.”

“She deserved it.”

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Chapter 95

“Oh, I agree,” he said, walking around his desk. “I just didn’t expect to enjoy it so much.‘”

He pressed the intercom. “Miriam, come in.”

His assistant stepped in, pale and fidgety.

“How did she get access?” he asked.

“She said if I made her wait in the lobby, you’d fire me.”

Liam’s voice dropped. “What did I tell you about access to this office?”

“Only your family. Your parents, siblings… and Miss Emily.”

I didn’t mean to blush.

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“Exactly,” Liam said, without even glancing at me. “Anyone else is a guest. And guests need permission. Don’t let this happen again.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

He dismissed her, then turned to me.

“Whatever Cassie said before I walked in, ignore it. All of it.”

“I’m not here to discuss Cassie,” I said, the mood shifting again. “I’m here because of you.”

He raised a brow

“You had no right to send those things for my studio.”

“I had every right,” he said.

“No. Liam, I’m trying to start something of mine. My money. My ideas. My identity. You can’t keep inserting yourself like this. I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”

“You just kissed me like you are.

“That wasn’t the point.”

”

He tilted his head slightly. “No. But it was honest.

My arms folded tighter across my chest.

“You can’t keep showing up like this. I need space to build without you haunting every step.”

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Chapter 95

He walked to the window, one hand in his pocket.

“I didn’t do it to take over,” he said. “I did it for one reason.

I didn’t respond.

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“I want that studio to haunt you,” he said without turning. “Every wall, every counter. I want it to whisper my name when you cook. Because I know how often you’ll be there… and if I can’t be, then something of me should be.”

The room went still.

And for a split second, I hated how much it got to me.

Not the words.

The way he said them.

Like I wasn’t just someone he missed. I was someone he was still trying to keep. “You’re impossible,” I muttered. “When you get like this, logic doesn’t work on you.”

“Good.” He finally turned to face me, eyes darker now. “Logic’s never made hands.”

My stomach flipped, and I hated that it did.

you

fall apart

apart in my

“I’m leaving,” I said, grabbing my bag. “Just stay out of my business, okay? I mean it.”

“Emily.”

I paused at the door, hand hovering on the knob.

“What?” I didn’t look back.

”

“You keep saying it’s over between us,” he said quietly, like it wasn’t meant to be a threat. “But the second your mouth found mine… it didn’t feel like a goodbye.”

Breathing suddenly felt like work.

“So go ahead,” he added, voice soft but sure. “Build your dream. Post your videos. Cook your heart out. Just know, when that kitchen gets too quiet… it’ll be me you hear.

I turned the knob.

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Chapter 95

“And Emily?” he added, right before I stepped out.

I glanced back.

That smirk. That maddening, beautiful smirk.

“With a kiss like that… you really think I’m going anywhere?”

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There’s something strangely healing about building something with your hands, especially when it’s for yourself.

The studio was finally coming together. Tripods, soundproofing panels, and ring lights were scattered across the room like puzzle pieces. My new kitchen island gleamed under soft lighting. There was a faint smell of fresh wood and paint, a clean start in every breath.

Sophia lay flat on the floor, fanning herself dramatically with the user manual for the camera rig. “I’m just saying… when Liam Black sets you up, he doesn’t play.”

“Don’t start,” I warned, tightening a clamp on the boom mic.