Noah’s voice sliced effortlessly through the charged silence. "We’ll discuss how to reach Sammy over lunch.” He grinned triumphantly at Lucas, “you're not invited—we’ll brief you later."

  Lucas stiffened visibly, jaw clenched in restrained annoyance, though he remained silent. Noah grinned in satisfaction, casually draping an arm over Vivian’s shoulders. She immediately shook him off, irritation flickering openly across her features, eliciting an amused chuckle from Noah. "Let’s go, Viv," he coaxed lightly, steering her toward the elevator.

  Returning to Noah’s studio apartment, Vivian lingered hesitantly near the doorway, pointedly ignoring his invitation to make herself comfortable.

  "I’m not hungry," she said sharply, her impatience evident. She was eager to push past these superficial exchanges and get straight to the point.

  Noah gave a relaxed shrug, indifferent. "Suit yourself—you can just watch me eat," he replied smoothly, already stepping into the compact kitchen. He pulled out packets of Korean instant noodles, fresh vegetables, and a carton of eggs from the refrigerator, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease. Without another word, he filled a saucepan with water and set it on the stove, the quiet sounds of meal preparation filling the silence.

  Vivian sighed quietly, glancing around the minimalistic apartment again. The silence, though heavy, was oddly comfortable. For a fleeting moment, she felt a strange familiarity in it, something she quickly dismissed. It was easier to remain detached and guarded.

  As Noah began to chop vegetables, Vivian slowly wandered the space, examining the sparse decorations that adorned the shelves—generic pieces that felt oddly disconnected from the man she had come to know. Her curiosity finally pushed through the silence.

  "Why were you at Vince’s?" she asked abruptly, deliberately avoiding looking at him.

  Noah’s knife stilled momentarily, resuming almost instantly. "I was following him," he said simply.

  "Why?"

  His response came carefully, a quiet undertone of weight behind each word. "Vince and a friend of mine used to work together."

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Vivian hesitated at the implication. "Used to?"

  "Yes," Noah said softly. "About five years ago."

  A cold chill ran sharply down Vivian’s spine, her next question cautious, almost hesitant. "Do you know what happened five years ago?"

  A deep silence settled between them, thick and tense, broken only by the faint bubbling of the water.

  Eventually, Noah’s voice returned, calm yet heavy. "No. It’s something I’m still trying to find out."

  Vivian exhaled quietly, wandering over to a shelf lined with decorative objects that felt strangely incongruent with Noah’s personality. She examined them absently, the silence stretching once more. Then she spoke again, shifting the subject slightly.

  "I don’t understand," she murmured.

  "Hmm?" Noah cracked eggs into a hot frying pan, the sizzling filling the brief pause.

  "How did someone like you end up involved in this?" Her tone was genuinely curious, reflecting her confusion. Noah, despite his darker inclinations, didn’t strike her as someone inherently tied to the underworld—not like Lucas, not like Vince. Even in his controlled, impersonal environment, he seemed more university student than criminal.

  "I used to wash money for Black Lotus back in high school," Noah stated bluntly, as casually as if discussing a typical teenage job.

  Vivian turned sharply, eyes wide with disbelief. So he was Black Lotus?

  But Noah wasn’t looking at her, his attention carefully fixed on plating noodles into two bowls. "Used to?" she pressed softly, needing clarity.

  He gave a slight nod. "Used to. I got out."

  "How?" Vivian blurted impulsively, her voice tinged with incredulity. She understood enough about Black Lotus to know that people rarely walked away unharmed.

  Noah hesitated slightly, voice growing quieter. "My friend—the one who worked with Vince—got me out."

  Vivian’s chest tightened at the inevitability of her next question, one she felt compelled to ask despite knowing the painful answer. "And where is your friend now?"

  His hands froze, the playful gleam extinguished from his eyes, replaced by something raw and haunted. His voice was barely above a whisper. "Dead."

  "Same as Vince," Vivian said softly, the weight of their shared grief suddenly heavy between them. They were both chasing shadows, hunting the memories of people they had once trusted.

  Noah slowly lifted his eyes to meet hers, and for a moment, there was no smirk, no pretense. Instead, Vivian saw only an echo of her own sorrow, quietly acknowledging the shared burden they both carried.

  The moment lingered in fragile silence until Noah finally forced a faint smile, breaking the somber tension. "Help me carry these to the table? My ribs are killing me. Some crazy girl kicked the hell out of me yesterday."

  Vivian’s mouth quirked ever so slightly, suppressing a reluctant smile as she reached for a bowl. "You probably deserved it."