"Who translated this?"
Marcus frowned.
"Why?"
"Because this English version doesn't accurately represent the Chinese version."
Nobody moved.
Mr. Chen immediately reached for the phone.
"What is wrong?"
Naomi pointed to a clause.
"This sentence appears to limit your financial responsibility."
She scrolled.
"But the Chinese wording creates a broader obligation."
The room became silent.
Mr. Chen's attorney took the phone.
He compared the two versions.
His face slowly changed.
"She's right."
Marcus stared at him.
"What?"
"There is a discrepancy."
"How serious?"
The attorney swallowed.
"If interpreted under the Chinese version, the investors could be liable for additional losses."
Mr. Chen looked directly at Marcus.
"How much?"
The attorney continued reading.
"Potentially twenty-three million dollars."
Marcus stood abruptly.
"That's impossible."
Naomi looked at the document again.
"No."
Marcus turned toward her.
"No what?"
Naomi's voice remained calm.
"Twenty-three million isn't the biggest problem."
Mr. Chen looked at her.
"What is?"
Naomi scrolled farther.
"This clause."
She pointed at a paragraph buried near the end.
"It gives control over certain assets to a company that isn't named in the English agreement."
Marcus's face went pale.
Mr. Chen's attorney leaned closer.
"What company?"
Naomi read the Chinese name carefully.
Then translated it.
"Vale Strategic Holdings."
Everyone looked at Marcus.
The billionaire said nothing.
Naomi slowly placed the phone back on the table.
And for the first time that evening, Marcus realized something terrifying.
The woman he had thought was merely a waitress had just found a problem that could cost him hundreds of millions of dollars.
But Naomi had not yet discovered the worst part.
The contract contained a second name.
A name connected to her grandmother.
A name that had been buried for twenty-seven years.
And once Naomi read it, the entire night would change.
Naomi had always believed that her grandmother's life was simple.
Evelyn Carter had raised her in a small apartment above a bakery in San Francisco's Chinatown. She had worked long hours, paid bills carefully, and never complained about the things she could not afford.
To Naomi, Evelyn had been a cleaner.
That was what everyone knew.
She cleaned offices.
She cleaned hotel rooms.
Sometimes she helped restaurants after closing.
She saved every dollar.
She never owned a car.
She never traveled outside California.
And she never talked about Naomi's father.
Whenever Naomi asked, Evelyn would simply say:
"Some stories are safer when they remain unfinished."
Naomi had never understood.
Now, staring at the contract, she wondered whether her grandmother had known something about Marcus Vale.
The Chinese name in the document was followed by a reference number.
Naomi read it again.
Her stomach tightened.
She recognized the number.
Not because she had seen it in business documents.
Because she had seen it written inside Evelyn's old notebook.
Years ago.
A notebook Naomi had found beneath a stack of winter clothes.
She had been thirteen.
Evelyn had taken it away immediately.
"Never touch this again."
It was the only time Naomi had ever seen fear in her grandmother's eyes.
Now that same number was staring back at her.
Mr. Chen noticed her expression.
"Do you know this?"
Naomi hesitated.
"I don't know."
Marcus stepped forward.
"Enough."
Naomi looked at him.
"Enough?"
"You've made your point."
"What point?"
"You found a translation error."
"Several."
Marcus's jaw tightened.
"That doesn't mean you understand the transaction."
Naomi nodded.
"You're right."
Marcus smiled.
Then Naomi added:
"But I understand enough to know that your investors should not sign this tonight."
Mr. Chen immediately closed the folder.
"We will not sign."
Marcus's face hardened.
"Mr. Chen—"
"No."
The elderly businessman stood.
"You invited us to trust you."
Marcus tried to regain control.
"Of course."
"But you gave us two different versions of the same agreement."
"That was a drafting error."
Mr. Chen looked at Naomi.
"Was it?"
Naomi answered honestly.
"I don't know."
That answer somehow frightened Marcus more than an accusation would have.
Because she was not trying to destroy him.
She was simply reading the words.
And the words were destroying him by themselves.
A few minutes later, the meeting broke apart.
Mr. Chen asked Naomi to translate the full agreement independently.
Marcus objected.
"You cannot be serious."
Mr. Chen looked at him.
"Why not?"
"She works here."
"Tonight."
Mr. Chen paused.
"Tomorrow, perhaps she will work somewhere else."
Marcus said nothing.
Naomi returned to the kitchen.
Her manager, Daniel Brooks, was waiting.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
"Naomi."
She looked at him.
"I've known you for six years. You are not fine."
She smiled weakly.
"I just found something strange in a contract."
Daniel glanced toward Marcus's table.
"That man is trouble."
"I know."
Before she could continue, the restaurant doors opened.
A tall man in a gray suit entered.
He looked around the dining room.
Then his eyes landed on Naomi.
"Naomi Carter?"
She froze.
"Yes?"
He walked toward her.
"My name is Adrian Cross."
Something about his voice made her uncomfortable.
Marcus saw him.
The color drained from his face.
"Adrian."
Adrian turned.
"Marcus."
The two men stared at each other.