Chapter 91

Noah’s POV

The quiet hum of the hotel air conditioner filled the room as I stared at my phone. Another call unanswered. I sighed, leaning back on the plush chair in frustration. “Come on, Mirabelle.” I muttered under my breath. “Pick up the damn phone.”

It has been over 30 fucking hours since we last spoke, and the growing silence between us made me irritated. I had called her more times than I cared to count—twenty, maybe even thirty. Each unanswered ring felt like another stone in my chest, dragging me down.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Startled, I straightened up. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Natasha.” Her familiar voice called from the other side.

Natasha? What the hell was she doing here so late? I crossed the room quickly and opened the door. Natasha stood there, looking unusually grim. Her expression made my stomach twist.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She stepped inside, glancing around nervously. “You need to see