The closer it got to the dinner, the tighter the knot in my stomach grew. I had spent the entire afternoon pacing around my apartment, checking my phone for the millionth time to make sure my parents hadn’t canceled at the last minute. Not that they ever would—they were too polite for that—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight had the potential to go either very well or very, very badly. Noah, as always, remained calm. While I fretted over every little detail, he sat at the kitchen counter reviewing emails, his calm demeanor almost infuriating. He looked up from his laptop and smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way that usually made my heart skip a beat. “Lena,” he said gently, closing the laptop and standing. “It’s going to be fine. You’ve already won them over just by being you. I’m just here to prove that I’m worth you.” His words stopped me in my tracks, my chest tightening with a mix of affection and nerves. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about, Noah,” I
Bringing Noah into my family’s world wasn’t something I had ever imagined would be easy, but I hadn’t expected it to weigh on me as much as it did. My parents had always been my foundation—supportive, protective, and fiercely proud of the independent woman they had raised. But I knew their protectiveness came with a sharp edge of skepticism, especially when it came to Noah. To them, he wasn’t just the man I loved; he was the billionaire who could potentially overshadow everything I had worked so hard to achieve. The dinner where they met Noah for the first time had gone better than I expected, but it hadn’t erased their concerns entirely. My dad, in particular, had remained wary, though he’d tried to keep it subtle. A self-made man who had built his small construction business from the ground up, he valued hard work and grit above all else. To him, Noah represented privilege, power, and a world that felt far removed from the struggles of people like us. But Noah was determined to ea
The weekend trip with my family had started out like any other—filled with laughter, casual teasing, and the occasional awkward silence as my parents tried to navigate their relationship with Noah. We’d planned a day outdoors, gathering at a lakeside cabin my parents rented every summer. For me, this place was steeped in childhood memories: learning to swim in the lake, watching my mom set up picnics on the grass, and helping my dad start the fire for evening barbecues. It was a safe haven. But bringing Noah here felt like blending two very different parts of my life into one. The day started quietly enough. Noah, to his credit, had gone out of his way to make everyone feel comfortable. He’d offered to help with the grill, chatted with my cousins about their work, and even joined in a game of cards with my younger siblings, somehow winning them over within minutes. Watching him seamlessly adapt to my family’s dynamic was both a relief and a surprise. Still, I knew my parents were wa
The morning of our trip started like any other. Noah and I boarded the private jet, heading back to the island where everything had begun—where we had first met, first worked together, and where the roots of our partnership had taken hold. But there was something in the air that day, something I couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was the quiet excitement in Noah’s eyes or the way he kept glancing at me with that soft smile he only wore when he was thinking about something. Whatever it was, I felt an unusual sense of anticipation building in my chest. As we touched down on the island, I didn’t think anything of it. The island was just as serene as it had been the last time we visited. The waves lapped against the shore, the sun glinted off the water, and the air smelled faintly of salt and wildflowers. It was peaceful, timeless even. Noah had insisted on taking me on a walk along the beach first—just the two of us. He was always thoughtful like that, eager to share a quiet moment before
The sun was low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the completed resort. It was the perfect backdrop for what was about to be the most important day of my life. As I stood on the terrace, looking out at the breathtaking view, I felt a mix of emotions flooding my chest—excitement, joy, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Today wasn’t just about the resort. It wasn’t just about the culmination of years of hard work and dedication. Today was about us—Noah and me. It was about our love, our shared journey, and the future we were ready to build together. It was about the promise we had made to each other in the quiet moments, the late-night talks, and the long, hard days where we both knew that we were in this for the long haul. I had spent months helping to design this space—helping to bring Noah’s vision to life. But the real beauty of it, the thing that made it so much more than just another architectural project, was that this resort was a reflection of us. It was a physi
It started with a missed period. I had always been very regular, and when it didn’t show up on schedule, I couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of unease. At first, I thought it might be stress. The resort had just opened, our joint venture was thriving, and Noah and I were busier than ever. But as the days went on, the thought kept gnawing at me. I waited another week, hoping it would just be a late cycle, but when it still didn’t come, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I found myself standing in front of the bathroom mirror one morning, staring at the pregnancy test in my hand. It was a moment I never imagined would come so soon—after all, Noah and I had talked about it in vague, hopeful terms, but we hadn’t made any concrete plans. Still, here I was, holding this small piece of plastic that would either confirm or deny my suspicion. I took the test, my heart beating loudly in my chest as I set it on the counter. I turned away, trying to distract myself. But every few seconds, my
I stood in the middle of my small studio apartment, gazing at the detailed blueprint spread across my coffee table. Sunlight streamed through the single window, highlighting the intricate sketches of an eco-friendly residential complex I’d designed in my free time. This was my dream—to create spaces that were not only beautiful but also sustainable. Spaces that could make a difference in a world that seemed to value convenience over conservation.But dreams, I had learned, didn’t pay the rent.I sighed, running a hand through my messy bun as I glanced at the blinking notification on my laptop. My inbox was cluttered with rejection emails, bills, and offers for questionable partnerships. It was disheartening to think how many firms had dismissed my ideas for being “idealistic” or “impractical.” Sustainability, they argued, wasn’t a priority in a world driven by profit.As I leaned back in my chair, my phone buzzed on the table. I picked it up absentmindedly, expecting another spam call
I arrived at the conference room ten minutes early, my leather portfolio clutched tightly against my chest. It was an impressive space, sleek and modern, much like the man who owned it. The massive glass windows stretched from floor to ceiling, offering a dizzying view of the city below. For a moment, I let myself marvel at the world Noah Tan had built for himself—powerful, towering, and untouchable. The door opened behind me, and the air shifted, almost as if the room itself recognized his presence. “Ms. Smith.” I turned to find Noah Tan walking in with the same composed energy I’d seen during our first meeting. He was dressed impeccably, of course—dark tailored suit, no tie, the top button of his crisp white shirt undone. If it was meant to make him look approachable, it didn’t work. “Mr. Tan,” I replied, my voice steady, though my heart had already started to pick up its pace. He moved to the head of the table, placing a tablet on the polished surface before sitting down. His
It started with a missed period. I had always been very regular, and when it didn’t show up on schedule, I couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of unease. At first, I thought it might be stress. The resort had just opened, our joint venture was thriving, and Noah and I were busier than ever. But as the days went on, the thought kept gnawing at me. I waited another week, hoping it would just be a late cycle, but when it still didn’t come, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I found myself standing in front of the bathroom mirror one morning, staring at the pregnancy test in my hand. It was a moment I never imagined would come so soon—after all, Noah and I had talked about it in vague, hopeful terms, but we hadn’t made any concrete plans. Still, here I was, holding this small piece of plastic that would either confirm or deny my suspicion. I took the test, my heart beating loudly in my chest as I set it on the counter. I turned away, trying to distract myself. But every few seconds, my
The sun was low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the completed resort. It was the perfect backdrop for what was about to be the most important day of my life. As I stood on the terrace, looking out at the breathtaking view, I felt a mix of emotions flooding my chest—excitement, joy, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Today wasn’t just about the resort. It wasn’t just about the culmination of years of hard work and dedication. Today was about us—Noah and me. It was about our love, our shared journey, and the future we were ready to build together. It was about the promise we had made to each other in the quiet moments, the late-night talks, and the long, hard days where we both knew that we were in this for the long haul. I had spent months helping to design this space—helping to bring Noah’s vision to life. But the real beauty of it, the thing that made it so much more than just another architectural project, was that this resort was a reflection of us. It was a physi
The morning of our trip started like any other. Noah and I boarded the private jet, heading back to the island where everything had begun—where we had first met, first worked together, and where the roots of our partnership had taken hold. But there was something in the air that day, something I couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was the quiet excitement in Noah’s eyes or the way he kept glancing at me with that soft smile he only wore when he was thinking about something. Whatever it was, I felt an unusual sense of anticipation building in my chest. As we touched down on the island, I didn’t think anything of it. The island was just as serene as it had been the last time we visited. The waves lapped against the shore, the sun glinted off the water, and the air smelled faintly of salt and wildflowers. It was peaceful, timeless even. Noah had insisted on taking me on a walk along the beach first—just the two of us. He was always thoughtful like that, eager to share a quiet moment before
The weekend trip with my family had started out like any other—filled with laughter, casual teasing, and the occasional awkward silence as my parents tried to navigate their relationship with Noah. We’d planned a day outdoors, gathering at a lakeside cabin my parents rented every summer. For me, this place was steeped in childhood memories: learning to swim in the lake, watching my mom set up picnics on the grass, and helping my dad start the fire for evening barbecues. It was a safe haven. But bringing Noah here felt like blending two very different parts of my life into one. The day started quietly enough. Noah, to his credit, had gone out of his way to make everyone feel comfortable. He’d offered to help with the grill, chatted with my cousins about their work, and even joined in a game of cards with my younger siblings, somehow winning them over within minutes. Watching him seamlessly adapt to my family’s dynamic was both a relief and a surprise. Still, I knew my parents were wa
Bringing Noah into my family’s world wasn’t something I had ever imagined would be easy, but I hadn’t expected it to weigh on me as much as it did. My parents had always been my foundation—supportive, protective, and fiercely proud of the independent woman they had raised. But I knew their protectiveness came with a sharp edge of skepticism, especially when it came to Noah. To them, he wasn’t just the man I loved; he was the billionaire who could potentially overshadow everything I had worked so hard to achieve. The dinner where they met Noah for the first time had gone better than I expected, but it hadn’t erased their concerns entirely. My dad, in particular, had remained wary, though he’d tried to keep it subtle. A self-made man who had built his small construction business from the ground up, he valued hard work and grit above all else. To him, Noah represented privilege, power, and a world that felt far removed from the struggles of people like us. But Noah was determined to ea
The closer it got to the dinner, the tighter the knot in my stomach grew. I had spent the entire afternoon pacing around my apartment, checking my phone for the millionth time to make sure my parents hadn’t canceled at the last minute. Not that they ever would—they were too polite for that—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight had the potential to go either very well or very, very badly. Noah, as always, remained calm. While I fretted over every little detail, he sat at the kitchen counter reviewing emails, his calm demeanor almost infuriating. He looked up from his laptop and smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way that usually made my heart skip a beat. “Lena,” he said gently, closing the laptop and standing. “It’s going to be fine. You’ve already won them over just by being you. I’m just here to prove that I’m worth you.” His words stopped me in my tracks, my chest tightening with a mix of affection and nerves. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about, Noah,” I
The press conference room buzzed with activity as journalists, photographers, and industry professionals filled the space. The air was charged with anticipation, and I could feel it vibrating through my chest as I stood just behind the curtain, clutching the edges of my notebook tightly. The announcement of our joint venture—the next big chapter in both Noah’s career and mine—was about to be unveiled to the world. I glanced over at Noah, who stood a few feet away, speaking with his assistant. He looked calm, composed, every bit the confident businessman I’d grown to admire. But beneath the exterior, I knew him well enough to see the faint tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders squared just a bit too stiffly. He cared about this as much as I did, maybe more, and I knew he was feeling the weight of what this moment represented. “You ready for this?” Noah’s voice broke through my thoughts as he turned to me, his expression softening. I nodded, taking a deep breath. “As ready as I’l
Tension hung thick in the air as I spread out the revised blueprints on the long conference table in Noah’s office. My hands were steady, but my mind wasn’t. I could feel his eyes on me, watching as I carefully walked him through my design changes, my voice carrying an edge of determination I didn’t bother to mask. “This,” I said, pointing to the curved glass atrium at the center of the blueprint, “is what will set this property apart. It’s bold, it’s innovative, and it ties in perfectly with our vision of blending natural elements with modern design. It’s the signature feature that will make people stop and remember this project.” Noah leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he studied the plans. His face was unreadable, a mixture of concentration and skepticism that only deepened the knot in my stomach. “Lena,” he began carefully, his voice calm but firm, “I’m not saying it isn’t stunning. It is. But have you thought about the implications of this design? The glasswork
The first few weeks of our new joint venture were a whirlwind of energy, ideas, and, unsurprisingly, a fair share of tension. While the excitement of creating something groundbreaking was undeniable, the reality of merging my creative vision with Noah’s business-driven approach was more challenging than I had anticipated. We worked from his office most days, a sleek, modern space with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. The room was often filled with blueprints, mood boards, and spreadsheets, a chaotic blend of my design concepts and his meticulously calculated budgets. At the heart of our discussions was a shared goal: to create sustainable, luxurious properties that would stand as a testament to our partnership. But as we dove deeper into the details, it became clear that achieving this goal would require more than just passion and hard work—it would require compromise. One afternoon, I stood by the massive conference table, presenting my initial sketches for the fl