Chapter 15

Chapter 15

(Noah's POV)

The restaurant exuded the kind of quiet luxury that spoke volumes without trying too hard—dim lighting, velvet chairs, and the faint notes of a piano drifting from a corner. Noah sat at a private table, the crisp edge of his tailored suit brushing against the leather seat as he listened to Mr. Han, a senior executive from a prominent investment firm.

"…and with these projected numbers, I believe we can see exponential growth within two quarters," Mr. Han said, gesturing to a set of figures on the tablet between them.

Noah nodded, offering a small smile that was more reflex than genuine engagement. He knew this dance by heart: a careful mix of charm and precision that ensured deals flowed smoothly. It was his arena, one he dominated effortlessly. Yet tonight, his mind kept slipping elsewhere, a restlessness he couldn't quite place.

The waiter approached, setting down plates that looked more like works of art than meals. Mr. Han complimented the presentation, launching into an anecdote about his last visit to Paris. Noah nodded along, his eyes idly scanning the room as the executive spoke.

And then, he saw her.

Nadine.

The sight of her hit him like a gust of wind, sudden and unexpected. She was seated across the room, her back straight but relaxed, her movements natural and unguarded in a way he wasn't used to seeing. She was with two women, their laughter creating a soft ripple in the otherwise hushed atmosphere of the restaurant.

It wasn't just her presence that caught his attention—it was her expression.

She was laughing.

Not the polite chuckle she reserved for obligatory social settings or the fleeting smiles she sometimes offered him. This was different. Her laughter was full and rich, her eyes crinkling at the corners, her hand lightly touching her cheek as if to steady herself from the sheer joy of the moment.

Noah's chest tightened. He couldn't look away.

"…Mr. Lee?"

Mr. Han's voice cut through his thoughts, jolting him back to the present.

"Apologies," Noah said smoothly, though he felt anything but. "You were saying?"

Mr. Han resumed his monologue, seemingly unfazed, but Noah's focus had already fractured. His attention kept drifting back to Nadine. Every now and then, her melodic laugh reached him, pulling his gaze like a magnet.

He had never seen her like this. She seemed lighter somehow, as if she had shed the carefully composed armor she always wore. The Nadine he knew—his fiancée by arrangement—was poised and sharp, her every move deliberate. But this version of her was vibrant, unrestrained, glowing in a way that made the air feel thinner around him.

Noah tried to focus on the conversation, forcing himself to respond at the appropriate moments, but it was no use.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said abruptly, standing before he could second-guess himself.

Mr. Han raised an eyebrow but nodded politely.

Noah walked toward the restroom, but as he passed Nadine's table, his steps faltered. He slowed, almost imperceptibly, unable to resist stealing a closer look.

She didn't notice him. Her attention was entirely on her friends—one of whom was animatedly recounting a story. Nadine threw her head back, laughing in a way that lit up her entire face.

For a moment, Noah stood frozen, caught in the gravitational pull of her joy. It was like watching sunlight break through storm clouds, dazzling and unexpected.

His heart clenched, the sensation foreign and unwelcome.

He forced himself to keep walking, the spell broken as he turned into the restroom. Leaning against the cool porcelain sink, Noah splashed water on his face, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

What was wrong with him? This was Nadine. The woman he was marrying out of obligation, not affection. Their arrangement was practical, a partnership of convenience. He had always approached it with detached pragmatism, knowing their lives would intersect only as much as necessary.

So why did seeing her like this—so free, so alive—make him feel like the ground beneath him had shifted?

He straightened, running a hand through his hair before heading back to his table.

Mr. Han gave him a curious glance as he returned, but Noah ignored it, settling into his seat with a practiced smile. "Where were we?"

The conversation resumed, but his thoughts remained stubbornly fixed on Nadine. He tried to rationalize it, to convince himself it was nothing more than fleeting curiosity. But deep down, he knew it was more than that.

As the evening wore on, Noah caught himself glancing toward her table again. She was still there, still laughing, still glowing.

When he finally left the restaurant, he didn't look back. But her laughter lingered in his mind like the echo of a song he couldn't shake.

For the first time, he felt an ache he couldn't name—a pull toward a woman he thought he understood, only to realize he barely knew her at all.

And as he stepped into the cool night air, one thought consumed him:

He wanted to know more.