Noah’s POV:
I sat across from Natasha at the breakfast table, a steaming plate of dumplings between us.
She picked at her food delicately, stirring her coffee while talking about Shanghai’s vibrant culture, her voice sliding easily between topics.
But I wasn’t fooled.
I knew she was working towards something; she always has.
I did my best to stay focused on the business. “So,” I said, cutting through whatever memory she was in the middle of sharing. “About Mr. Ali’s land-are there any particular challenges with the zoning I should know about?”
Natasha’s smile was teasing. “Oh, Noah, always straight to the point.” She began. “But before we get to that, do you remember the school trip years ago. Do you remember that dinner we had back in Milan, at that little restaurant by the Duomo? You barely touched your food back then, too, because you were too busy talking about the trip.”
My stomach twisted. I remembered Milan vaguely-strictly for fun, as far as I was concerned. But Natasha had a way of romanticizing the past, of twisting it to fit the story she wanted to tell. I forced a polite smile. “Milan was… fun. But let’s focus on what’s at hand.”
She pouted, swirling her coffee. “Oh, you’re no fun, Noah. Mirabelle has you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?”
The mention of Mirabelle snapped my focus, making my patience thin. “We’re happy, Natasha. And I’d prefer if you respected that,” I said firmly. Her eyes glimmered with something I couldn’t quite place-amusement, maybe, or a challenge.
“Of course,” She said lightly. “I’m just saying, it’s hard not to wonder if she’s really the right match for someone like you. A man with such ambition.”
I gritted my teeth and let the comment slide. This breakfast couldn’t end fast enough.
After breakfast, I thought we’d head straight to Mr. Ali’s land. I was wrong.
“Before we go,” Natasha said, tossing money on the table, “I want to show you something. It’s a quick detour, I promise.”
I hesitated. “Natasha, I’m on a tight schedule. I need to-”
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” she insisted, already leading the way out of the cafe. I followed reluctantly, mentally rehearsing how I would explain this to Mirabelle.
Natasha brought me to a park overlooking the Bund, where old meets new in the city’s iconic skyline.
She spoke about a memory of walking here during a fashion show she attended years ago. “I remember looking out at this view and wondering if you’d ever come to Shanghai, Noah,” She said softly. “I imagined what it would be like to see you here.”
I nodded absently, my eyes fixed on the skyline, not letting myself get pulled into her story. “It’s a great view. Now, about Mr. Ali’s land…”
We finally arrived at the property, and I had to admit-it was impressive. Natasha led the way, pointing out features and talking about the possibilities with enthusiasm.
But even here, she couldn’t help herself.
“You know.” She said, stopping beside a cluster of trees. “I admire how far you’ve come, Noah. I always have. You have this way of making things happen, no matter what stands in your way.”
I faced her, maintaining my composure. “I appreciate that, Natasha. But this is about the business. We both want this deal to go smoothly, and I’d prefer if we kept things professional.”
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, I’m always professional, Noah. I just like to add a… personal touch.”
My patience was wearing thin, but I kept my voice calm. “Then let’s keep that personal touch focused on the deal.”
We continued the tour, and I kept things strictly about the land and the potential project. But I could feel her eyes on me whenever my attention drifted. I knew she wasn’t giving up
Back in the car, heading to the hotel, my thoughts were a mess. I leaned back in the seat, the city blurring past the window.
Natasha’s presence was getting under my skin, her attempts to cut the lines between business and personal relationship was becoming more irritating. I thought of Mirabelle back home, wondered if she’d sense the tension in my voice when I called. I knew this entire day would sound suspicious, no matter how I framed it.
Natasha’s laugh broke through my thoughts. She was talking about some mutual acquaintance who had made a name for himself in Hong Kong, but I barely registered the details. I was too caught up in my own swirling thoughts-of the land, of the deal, of the way Natasha seemed determined to challenge my loyalty to Mirabelle without ever saying it outright.
As we pulled up to the hotel, Natasha turned to me with a smile. “Why don’t we have dinner together? Just a business dinner,” She said with a knowing look.
I hesitated. I knew I should say no, but she had me cornered. This deal with Mr. Ali was too important to risk offending her. “Fine,” I said. “Business dinner.”
“Great,” She beamed. “I’ll make the reservation.”
We got out of the car, and I started toward the entrance, my mind already on what I’d say to Mirabelle. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it-a flash, coming from across the street.
Someone was there, watching us, a camera hidden behind a partially open window.
My heart dropped. Oh no, not again, I thought of the memories of past scandals rushing back. I couldn’t afford another misunderstanding, not with everything I’d worked hard to rebuild.
As we entered the hotel, I tried to convince myself it was nothing, that no one had seen anything worth capturing. But the doubt was already there.
Natasha’s voice pulled me back to the present. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”
I forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Tonight.”
She walked away, and I took out my phone, already dialing Mirabelle’s number, praying she wouldn’t pick up on the panic I was fighting to hide.
If she ever found out about the pictures before I get to explain to her, it could ruin everything.