Chapter 33 

There was no unreasonable demand–just something simple and ordinary. 

Linda felt a jolt in her chest, an uneasy premonition settling over her. 

*But before she could figure out what this sense of foreboding meant, Ivan’s voice came again. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t mean anything else by it. I just regret it. I regret that it’s been so long since we’ve sat down and had a proper meal together.” 

Yes, it had indeed been a long time since they had shared a proper meal. 

Ever since Katherine had come into the picture, he was either called away mid–meal or glued to his phone during dinner. 

Linda wondered if all men who cheat were like this–thinking they were clever while their every action was so laughably obvious. 

Suppressing the strange feeling in her chest, she spoke calmly. “What are we eating? You decide.” 

Half an Hour Later 

They arrived at a small French restaurant. 

The space was cozy, with just the owner and two staff members, 

Ivan walked over, exchanged a few words with the owner, then took off his trench coat, tied on an apron, and headed into the kitchen. 

He moved quickly, as if he had planned everything in advance. 

Dish after dish appeared on the table–all of them were familiar, Linda’s favorites. 

When the final course, a soup, was brought out, Ivan finally removed his apron and sat across from 

Linda. 

“Give it a try. It’s been a long time since I’ve cooked. I’m not sure if my skills have declined.” 

He ladled a portion of soup into a bowl and set it gently before Linda. 

The warm, dim light cast a soft glow over the table. 

• Heiress 

for a moment, it felt as if they had returned to the beginning of everything. 

Back then, they had nothing. No house, no company, no billion–dollar fortune. 

They lived frugally, rarely affording more than one proper meal during holidays or festivals. Four dishes and a soup had been a luxury. 

But at that time, they were simple, pure, full of dreams, goals, and love. 

Their days were busy, but even a simple embrace could bring happiness. 

Linda picked up her spoon and took a small sip of the soup. 

Tike the fried chicken from before, it tasted sweet and savory, yet there was a lingering bitterness 

she couldn’t ignore. 

“How is it?” 

Ivan’s eyes sparkled, waiting for her response, just as he had when he first presented her with a bowl of hot soup so many years ago. 

For some reason, Linda’s eyes grew misty.