# Chapter 213: The Subpoena, the Shirtless Chef, and a Truth He Won't Say
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Chapter 213 of *"Pregnant, I left him To His First Love PDFs Download/Read Online"* — and let me tell you, this chapter is a delicious mix of tension, mystery, and a dangerously shirtless Tatum that will leave you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. Buckle up, because things are about to get complicated.
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The morning sun had barely stretched across the sky when Leila made up her mind. That subpoena had been burning a hole in her thoughts all night — a court summons declaring that *she* was suing Carmela. Except she never filed any such lawsuit. Someone was playing games, and she had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who was behind it.
She reached out through the mindlink, her voice sharp and businesslike.
*"I need to see you."*
*"I'm busy."*
*"It's not about the divorce, I promise,"* she pressed, frowning. He was avoiding her, as usual. Running from conversations, from accountability, from her.
There was a long, weighted silence on the other end of the link.
*"Fine. I'm at home. The one opposite you."*
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When Leila stepped into Tatum's house, she couldn't help but pause. The place was enormous — as big, with as many rooms, as the home they had once shared. And yet it was scarcely furnished. A single couch sat in the middle of the living room. No television. No rugs. No portraits on the walls. Nothing but a strange, pleasant aroma drifting through the air.
It was painfully obvious — he only stayed here because of her.
"Tatum!" she called out, her voice echoing through the hollow, empty space.
"Kitchen," came his reply, low and unhurried.
*He's cooking?* Since when had he learned how to cook? The day she'd seen him with Amara, she'd assumed he was just messing around to impress the girl. But five years is a long time to learn anything.
When she stepped into the kitchen, Tatum didn't turn around. He didn't stop stirring. He just stood there — shirtless, his muscular back rippling with every movement, the ridges and contours of his shoulders catching the light in a way that made Leila's gaze linger far longer than she intended.
She didn't speak. She just... admired. Oddly. Unwillingly. Fascinated.
"You can admire me, or you can talk," Tatum said smugly, still stirring his pot.
Leila rolled her eyes so hard she nearly strained something. For someone she'd assumed would be drowning in pain from a one-sided bond, he sure could still talk nonsense.
"I got a subpoena stating I have to appear in court for suing Carmela," she said flatly. "I did not do that. What are you playing at?"
Tatum ignored her question entirely. Instead, he picked up a book from the counter — and Leila's heart stuttered. It was *her* recipe book. She'd always written down recipes for every meal she made, keeping it tucked in one of the lockers in the kitchen of their old house. He had it. He'd kept it all this time.
"After stirring for two minutes, reduce to low heat," he muttered, turning down the gas knob and dropping the book aside before finally turning to face her.
His eyes were calm — too calm. A thin sheen of sweat covered his brows, dripping down his handsome face, trailing over his wide, firm chest, and slowly sliding down his rock-hard abs.
Leila forced herself to look at the gas burner instead of him. Something about a sexy man cooking shirtless and sweating made her feel... odd. Not odd. It was just — she didn't want to keep staring at him.
*It's distracting.*
"Look," Tatum said, breaking the silence. "I know I'm the big bad villain around here, but it doesn't mean I have a hand in every evil deed that happens. And I don't see anything evil about justice being served."
"If you want to serve justice, that's fine," Leila shot back. "Why use me?"
"I had no hand in this. Someone else may want the same thing as you — and there's nothing even I can do to stop it now. The court has summoned you. You must go." He glanced at the wall clock, then at his pot. "I'm making beef stew. You should try some."
"No thanks," Leila replied curtly, her voice like ice. "Are you sure you want me to go after her?"
"Be fast about it, too. I have my own bones to pick with her when you're done," Tatum replied sharply, turning off the cooker and gesturing toward the living room.
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They moved to the living room, and Leila squinted at Tatum, finding him harder and harder to understand with every passing second.
"What are you waiting for? Why after me? If you knew what she did, why did you keep her all these years?" Her voice cracked with the weight of her anguish. "Our child died because of her trickery, and you still let her parade herself as a false Phoenix Luna."
Tatum sat on the couch, gesturing for her to sit. She remained standing, arms crossed, jaw tight.
"Answer me," she demanded.
He threw his head back with a tired sigh, still not replying.
"Leila, it doesn't matter. You'll get your justice. It's not like you'd believe me if I told you everything I did was to protect you anyway."
A bitter laugh clawed its way up her throat. "Watching me jump off a cliff — pregnant — is not protecting me."
Her words hung in the air like poison. She'd been pushed to the edge, literally and figuratively. He had put her in danger time and time again. What the hell was he talking about?
Tatum shrugged, but the gesture was weak. "Look, I made up my mind to give you the divorce and accept your —"
He winced suddenly, his hand flying to his chest. Leila recognized it instantly — the sharp, searing pain of a one-sided broken bond.
"I'll accept your rejection," he finished through gritted teeth. "Just finish the lawsuit."
Leila watched him closely, her eyes narrowing with a mix of concern and suspicion. "What's stopping you from doing it now? You're obviously suffering from the one-sided rejection. I mean — the process could take weeks, months. What if it does irreparable damage to you?"
A slow, infuriating smirk spread across Tatum's face. He pouted smugly, leaning forward slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"Would you look at that?" he purred. "My sweet pea is worried about me."
Leila's expression hardened instantly. "Dream on," she sneered.
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And there it was — the dance of two broken hearts, circling each other with equal parts hatred, longing, and unanswered questions. Tatum may insist he was protecting her, but Leila knows all too well that protection doesn't look like falling from a cliff with a life growing inside you. Yet this chapter leaves us with more questions than answers — who filed the subpoena? What happened to the child's fate? And just how much pain is Tatum willing to endure before he finally breaks?
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## Reader's Impressions & Star Rating
Oh, this chapter was an emotional rollercoaster! The tension between Leila and Tatum is electric — one moment they're locked in a battle of wills, the next he's shirtless and cooking beef stew from *her* old recipe book. That detail alone sent chills down my spine. He kept her recipe book. He lives in an empty house just to be near her. And yet he refuses to explain himself, claiming everything he did was to protect her while she still carries the scars — and the loss — of his choices. The chemistry is undeniable, the mystery is deepening, and I'm honestly frustrated (in the best way) that we still don't know the full truth about Tatum's motives. This chapter delivers drama, tension, and just a hint of steam — beautifully written and utterly gripping.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.8 / 5 Stars
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## Next Chapter Prediction
Now, with Leila forced to appear in court against Carmela, I predict the next chapter will bring us a high-stakes courtroom showdown! Someone powerful is pulling strings behind the scenes — could it be an ally Leila never expected? Perhaps a member of Tatum's pack who secretly believes in her innocence? And with Tatum vowing to have his own reckoning with Carmela after Leila is done, I suspect we're heading toward a catastrophic confrontation where all of Carmela's lies finally unravel — and perhaps the deeply buried truth about why Tatum truly pushed Leila away will come crashing to the surface. One thing's for sure: the courtroom is about to become a battlefield!
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