Mirabelle's POV:
Later that evening, Noah arrived home. I was in the kitchen, preparing dinner, my back turned to him, but I could hear his approaching footsteps.
“Hey, babe.” He called out, dropping his bag on the floor.
I turned, a smile lighting up my face. “Hey! How was your day?”
“Productive.” He replied, moving closer. “I spoke with a friend about the project, and we might have a lead on a new property.”
“Really? That’s great!” I exclaimed. “I knew you’d figure it out.”
He smiled widely. “Yeah, she might have a connection that could help.”
“Who?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I stirred the pot on the stove.
“Natasha!” He replied.
That slimy b***h!
Taking a deep breath. “Ah, I see. Well, as long as it helps the project, right?” I said, turning back to the cooker.
“Exactly
