All Chapters of Your Lips to Mine #7: The Billionaire's Blueprint of Love: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

I had worked so hard for this—so, so hard. Every late night, every long meeting, every moment of doubt and uncertainty, all for this one thing: to prove to the world, to myself, that I was more than just a woman in someone else’s shadow. My name, my reputation—those had always been at the forefront of my mind. I wanted to be seen for who I was, not for my relationship with Noah. And for a while, it felt like I was finally getting there. The resort project had been my dream realized, my vision coming to life, and for the first time in my career, I felt proud of the work I had done. It was my design, my effort, my heart poured into every brick and every corner. This success was mine, and I wanted to be seen as a force in architecture, not just a footnote in Noah’s world. But as much as I was finally starting to feel comfortable with my place in the world, I knew it couldn’t be that simple. Success, especially the kind of success that came with a billion-dollar project like this one, al

I had always prided myself on my independence. It wasn’t something I had ever taken lightly or for granted. From the moment I entered the world of architecture, I knew that my journey would be one of constant proving—proving that I belonged in a male-dominated field, proving that my designs were worthy, proving that my success wasn’t tied to anyone but me. And now, standing in the middle of the storm of rumors and accusations, I found myself clinging to that independence more than ever. Noah’s offer to step in, to use his influence and resources to shut down the media and set the record straight, felt like a lifeline to most people. To him, it was the logical choice, the easy solution—his wealth and power could easily silence the naysayers. But to me, it felt like a betrayal of everything I had fought for. I wasn’t just fighting for my reputation; I was fighting for the recognition that my success wasn’t simply the result of being in the right place at the right time or having the ri

The silence that followed our argument in Noah’s office had stretched on for days. We were both walking around each other like strangers, careful not to upset the delicate balance between us. I could feel the walls we’d built, brick by brick, over the years of working together—those walls that had made us such a strong team—cracking under the pressure of this conflict. It wasn’t just the project anymore. It wasn’t just about the resort or the media. It was about us, and the trust we had in each other, and how that trust was being tested in a way neither of us had anticipated. We had spent so much of the last few days in a kind of standoff, each of us unwilling to give in, unwilling to back down. But deep down, I knew that this wasn’t something that would simply blow over. This wasn’t just a disagreement. It was about something deeper. It was about the foundation of our relationship—the balance between our personal and professional lives, the line between supporting each other and let

The tension that had crept into our relationship after that night was like a thick fog, always hanging in the air, clouding everything we said and did. We had tried to brush it off, tried to move past the misunderstanding, but it hadn’t worked. I knew Noah well enough to understand that when something was bothering him, he didn’t talk about it—he shut down, distanced himself, and expected everything to just work itself out. And that was exactly what happened. The days that followed were heavy with unspoken words. Noah and I would meet at the office, at the site, or even in the evenings, but everything felt off. He was no longer the same Noah who had been my partner in every sense of the word. He wasn’t as present. He wasn’t as warm. The easy camaraderie we used to share had evaporated, replaced by cold, clipped conversations about the project. The work was getting done, yes, but something between us had shifted. I could feel it—his frustration, his growing disappointment. At first,

I could feel it building up—the tension, the stress, the unspoken frustrations that had been simmering under the surface for days. It had been there, lingering in the way we spoke to each other, in the way our meetings had become strained. But I hadn’t expected it to explode the way it did. I hadn’t expected the words to come out as sharp as they did, cutting through the air like knives.It started with a change to the resort’s design—a last-minute request that, in theory, was simple enough. But it was one of those decisions that felt like the tipping point. The final straw.Noah had always been decisive, quick to make decisions and move on. But I was different. I took my time, weighed every option, and sometimes, I just needed to step back and think things through. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust his judgment; it was that I needed to be certain, to be sure of every decision. This project wasn’t just his—it was mine too, and I couldn’t afford to let him make every call.We were sitting