Chapter 73

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