Chapter 3
SOFIA
gata negra – Natalia Lacunza
To her utter annoyance, Sofia’s group had lost the clean-up challenge.
She normally wasn’t a competitive person in those kind of settings, but watching Ilias win did something to her.
He had that smug grin on his face. For people like him, everything came easy—charm, sponsorships, medals.
Plus, he was a man. And men were her worst enemy at that moment. Was that childish? Probably.
Sofia shook her head. Why was she even thinking about that idiot of a surfer when the event had wrapped up and had been an undeniable success?
Around her, the volunteers were happy. Even the sponsors. The line at the Nereid Coffee Co. cart was long, and even people who hadn’t joined the clean-up were roaming around the sponsor stands grabbing something to drink, buying sustainable clothing, testing out that eco-skincare brand she loved.
Elvira, her friend and the co-founder of Salacia, had announced that they had sold out the whale tours for the next couple of weeks, which meant more exposure, and more funding.
Whale season was about to start, and Sofia wanted to be ready. Not just for the tours she was leading but for her research.
There was one study she had never run while at Neptune—the one she was finally ready to pursue to get her research back on track. More than a year had passed since her last paper, and the truth was, she had never published anything without Thomas’s name attached.
Just the thought made her want to throw up at her own stupidity. She’d trusted him so much and he’d just played her and her years of research.
She needed a goddamn publication with her name on it, something that would keep her hard-earned credibility afloat, instead of letting it sink beneath the flood of online comments from people questioning her expertise—all because of the content-creation side hustle that had somehow become her salvation.
She took a deep breath, pushing away all those thoughts, and scanned the crowd at Praia dos Pescadores, a tide of people drifting from sponsor stall to stall.
She was searching for Alejandra, who was probably licking her own wounds—losing wasn’t in her vocabulary.
Instead, she found Ilias, leaning back against a nearby stand with that infuriatingly smug smile.
“I won.”
“Good for you. But this wasn’t a competition.”
As he got closer, she had to tilt her head to meet his hazel eyes—eyes that were far too amused. His smug grin was practically weaponized as he leaned in, lowering himself closer to her height.
“Yet, I won,” he said.
She stepped back, instinctively creating distance. Not that it mattered. Ilias Ríos El Idrissi apparently had no respect for personal space.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” she said, waving him off. “Thanks for coming, but I’ve got things to do.”
“Are you coming to the comp tomorrow?” he asked, running a hand through his curls.
“I’m going to cheer for Alejandra.”
“You should cheer for me too.” He grinned.
Sofia crossed her arms, planting a barricade between herself and that infuriatingly forward man. Her stomach twisted at the thought of letting any man think she was receptive. She didn’t do flattery, didn’t do charm, and certainly didn’t do games.
“And why would I do that?” She snapped, her voice sharper than she intended, a warning as much to herself as to him.
“Because I’m insanely talented? Ranked second overall? With a damn good chance of winning?” He leaned in again, his grin lazy and confident. “And from Spanish to Spanish, we should support each other. Basic decency.”
“How do you know that?”
“I may have asked around. Isn’t that right?”
Damn it. He has a point. And that only annoyed her more.
“Aren’t you Moroccan?” she asked, trying to grasp from memory what Alejandra had told her.
“Oh, you know who I am, then,” he smirked. “Spanish dad, Moroccan mom,” he said proudly. Then, reaching out and booping her nose—how dare he—added, “Spanish mom, Italian dad. Am I right?”
Sofia swatted his hand away. “Yes—”
“There you are!”
Jamie’s bright, breezy voice sliced through the tension.
Her Valley girl accent might’ve grated coming from anyone else, but Sofia needed to like it.
A happy Jamie might mean she still had a chance at the sponsorship she’d been chasing since founding Salacia.
When first asked, TerraVive hadn’t wanted to sponsor the cleanup, but they’d agreed to send Jamie to supervise, since she was already there for the USL Championship.
Maybe, if things went well, they’d finally say yes.
“My dear Ilias! It’s been forever. I gotta hug you,” Jamie purred, arms already wide. She practically launched herself into Ilias’ chest.
Tierra, trágame, she thought, wishing she could disappear.
Ilias smiled, switching to English without a hint of an accent. “Nice to see you too, Jamie.”
“You look great,” she said, squeezing his bicep.
“Been training. Trying to make a comeback,” he replied, his cocky tone still grating on her last nerve. Why this guy bothered her so much, she wasn’t sure, but he was a man. That was enough of a reason.
“And you're killing it.” Then Jamie’s eyes landed on Sofia. Her face lit up. “Doctor Sofia Moretti—my god, it’s such a pleasure to finally meet you face to face. You’re even more beautiful in person. And this is after a beach clean-up? How did it go?”
Jamie pulled her into a hug too. Sofia barely had time to blink at the series of questions thrown her way.
“It was great,” Sofia replied, plastering a fake smile on her face, because imposter syndrome didn’t allow her to have genuinely good feelings about what she had just accomplished.
“About 70 volunteers. Collected close to 500 kg of trash. Which is… good and bad.” Sofia paused.
“You know, I wish there wasn’t so much trash to pick up. ” Her expression turned grim.
“I get it,” Jamie said with a nod, her smile unwavering. She looked every inch the L.A. businesswoman cliché—tan, polished, forty. “But listen, you’ve done… well. Building something in just four months, after everything that happened—that takes resilience. You should be proud of yourself.”
Sotterratemi. Being buried alive felt like a better option than what she was living through. Even though she had been careful not to share the news of her breakup with anyone outside her inner circle, she knew people in the industry loved to gossip. And apparently, Jamie knew something.
An eight-year relationship with one of the richest American kids—and then reinventing herself as a content creator with a million followers—had put her on the radar of online gossip magazines, to her utter annoyance.
Sofia kept her eyes away from Ilias. She didn’t like the way Jamie had paused, like Jamie was pitying her…everything: love, career, business.
Thomas had wrecked it all, and resilience hadn’t been some noble choice; it had been the only option. The alternative was to drown in self-pity forever, and that simply wasn’t possible.
“Thanks,” Sofia said tightly. “Considering that, you should tell TerraVive how amazing sponsoring Salacia would be.”
“Oh, I will.” Jamie smiled. “But we do have to be selective. We love what you’re doing, and I think Salacia has huge potential. But we’re a business. We need to see the return and you are still very small.”
“Salacia will be worth it,” Ilias cut in, draping an arm over Jamie’s shoulder with practiced ease. Then, turning to Sofia with a faint smile. “Jamie here plays hard to get, but she’s got a good heart. TerraVive kept sponsoring me, even during my two-year break.”
Sofia’s eyebrows lifted. She hadn’t known TerraVive had stood by him. That didn’t exactly endear him to her more but it did explain their relationship.
“You had a rough time,” Jamie said, tone soft.
“It seems she did too,” Ilias added quietly, nodding toward Sofia.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Jamie replied, pulling back. “God, you’re such a charming asshole. You have to be careful with him,” she told Sofia. “He’s dangerous.”
“Really? I never would’ve guessed,” Sofia had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.
“Come on, Jamie. There are other adjectives you could use to describe me: gorgeous, mysterious, magnetically irresistible…”
This guy had the inflated ego of a surfer who won too many medals. Sofia just stared blankly at him. But her silence didn’t dull his grin.
“Alright, I need to run,” Jamie said. “See you at the competition. Let’s hope it’s a great one.”
She kissed Ilias on the cheek, waved at Sofia, and was gone in a whirl.
“You’re welcome, habiba,” Ilias said, still grinning. “See you tomorrow.”
She didn’t know what habiba meant, but the sound of it, spoken in that low, teasing voice, slid under her skin.
Before she could stop him, he leaned in, tall, definitely at least 1.
90 cm, and kissed her cheek. His palm cupped the side of her neck, his fingers brushing into her hair.
The touch was brief, but her whole body betrayed her.
Goosebumps raced down her arms. A shiver started at the base of her spine and spread upward until her breath caught in her throat. Heat followed. Slow, unwelcome, curling low in her stomach like an ember she thought she’d buried months ago. It felt infuriatingly familiar.
This was exactly what she’d promised herself she’d never let happen again.
Not after Thomas. Not after the lies and the humiliation, not after she’d been made to feel small for loving too much, for trusting too blindly.
Attraction had been her undoing once. It had cracked open her judgment, made her mistake obsession for devotion, desire for safety.
She wasn’t going to let it happen again.
And yet, her body didn’t listen. Her pulse was a drumbeat in her ears, loud enough to drown out reason. His scent, salt, sunscreen, something faintly earthy, filled the space between them, and she hated that she noticed it. Hated that she liked it.
She told herself it was nothing. A reflex. Biology doing what biology does. But even that excuse burned on her tongue. Because she knew herself too well, knew the slope of that descent. One touch, one look, and she’d start inventing reasons to let someone close again.
Not this time. Not with him.
She stepped back, heart racing, forcing a breath past the chaos in her chest. He was still smiling, oblivious, like he hadn’t just pressed a detonator inside her.
She hated him for that. And maybe, a little, she hated herself more.
Then he stepped back, winked, and walked away.
“What did he say?” Alejandra materialized at her side.
Sofia whipped around, arms crossed, cheeks burning. The only way to mask the charge running through her was to turn it back on her friend. “Why did you invite him?”
Her best friend shrugged. “He’s a good guy. Just needs to heal from being an asshole to women for most of his life.”
Sofia groaned and slumped into the nearest chair. She couldn’t keep thinking about Ilias; she had to shove that feeling into some remote corner of her brain and lock it away for good. She’d taken refuge in the same thing that had kept her afloat for the past six months—Salacia.
She didn’t have a sponsorship yet. But she would. With TerraVive or with someone else. She needed that funding. Needed that leap forward. TerraVive was the dream, but if they backed out, she’d find another way.
Who, though? She had no idea.
“Are you okay?” Alejandra asked, sitting beside her.
“Yeah. Today was amazing. But… why do I always feel like I need more?”
“Because you’re an overachiever puta.” Alejandra laughed. “Look at what you’ve done. You’ve created something amazing today, and if TerraVive doesn’t sponsor you, they are idiots.”
Sofia chuckled. She was incredibly glad Alejandra had been there; her friendship mattered more than the cleanup’s success or even the TerraVive sponsorship.
Having a friend like Alejandra—and her own obsession with Salacia—had probably been her only lifeline, the thing that kept her from shaving her head like Britney.
And now that she thought about it, she truly understood the pop star.
Maybe sometimes, losing your mind a little was exactly what you needed to find yourself again.