Noah's POV:
I pulled up in front of The Silver Fork, the dim glow from the restaurant's exterior lights reflecting off my car’s windshield. The place was as exclusive as rumored—chic, modern, and a hotspot for the city’s most prominent figures. I’d been to my fair share of fine dining spots, but this place was different.
I stepped out of the car, the cold air brushing against my face, as I walked toward the entrance. The doorman greeted me with a polite nod. Stepping inside, I made my way to the reception desk, where a young woman stood.
“Good evening, Sir.” She greeted me, scanning her tablet. “Do you have a reservation?”
“Yes, Noah Sylvester.” I replied, watching her eyes flick over the screen.
She glanced at me for a moment before tapping a few keys, then smiled up at me. “Yes, Mr
