Chapter 29
SOFIA
Tú me Dejaste de Querer – C. Tangana, Nino de Elche, La Húngara
The photoshoot had been wild. But even wilder was how it had shifted something between them.
Now, alone, traveling together to Sydney, they were closer. Always holding hands in public, hugging, kissing—well, cheek kisses—but with an ease she’d never experienced before. Not with anyone. It was as if they’d slipped into the role too well… maybe because it wasn’t just a role anymore.
But when they were alone, it was different.
Sofia still hadn’t broken through the wall she’d built after the breakup with Thomas. She hated how tightly that armor still clung to her. And now, knowing he would be at the same fucking conference? She wasn’t sure what to do with herself.
She sat at a small coffee shop near the conference center, legs crossed under the table. Ilias was across from her, already changed into his “formal surfer” version of attire: a light linen shirt—half unbuttoned—a silver chain peeking from beneath, and his curls just the right amount of tousled.
Unfair. He was walking sex.
Sofia had chosen a white tank top tucked into loose beige linen pants, cinched with a brown belt, and nude heels.
A risk for comfort, yes. But worth it. She’d seen herself in the mirror before they left the hotel and she knew she looked good.
Knew Thomas would choke on his own spit. Let him eat his fucking heart out.
“The plan,” Ilias said, pulling her from her mental vendetta, “is to act as in love as possible. Just to make him jealous.”
Sofia narrowed her eyes. “I’m not trying to make him jealous. That would mean I want him back. I want him to regret every single thing he did to me, professionally and emotionally.”
“And you're using me,” Ilias said casually, unfazed.
Her expression twisted. “I’m not using you.”
One brow arched as he stirred sugar into his coffee. His hazel eyes sparkled with challenge.
“No?”
“I don’t like the word,” she muttered. “It feels like I’m taking advantage of you. And I’m not.”
I care too much about you to do that. Say it, Sofia. Say it.
She didn’t.
A smirk curled on his lips. He had shaved just enough to leave a trace of stubble, and he looked like sin.
“So, you care about me, huh?” he teased, his voice low, amused, but something darker flickered beneath it, something hungry.
“Yes,” she said. Quiet. Firm.
He leaned in a little, biting his bottom lip in that way that made her stomach dip.
“Good. Because I care a lot about you.” Then, more serious: “I’ll help you with your little vendetta, habiba.
But if you ever leave me for him…” He gave her a mock tut and shook his head, “…I’ll become your worst enemy. ”
“Is that a threat?”
“Is that a possibility?”
“No.” She held his gaze. “I have zero interest in ever pursuing anything with Thomas again.”
“Good girl.”
Por dios. The way he growled that with his eyes half-lidded and full of wicked promise?
Her thighs clenched. Her breath hitched. She barely stopped herself from making a sound.
She fumbled with her matcha, clearing her throat just as they shifted the conversation to what Jamie had sent them: questions for the upcoming interview. Most of them would focus on their “love story” and social media presence, not her actual scientific work.
Meanwhile, Thomas would be presenting the research she had done. Her heart ached at the unfairness. She couldn’t even share her findings publicly, not without triggering lawsuits. Her scientific pride felt crushed under her heels.
Thankfully, Elvira had been updating her with recordings, sending progress reports to their father, who—according to their mom and sister—seemed livelier than he’d been in a long time. That calmed the storm in her mind, made her feel slightly less like a terrible daughter.
Then Ilias stiffened. His eyes darkened, murder flashing through them as he looked past her.
She turned, and there he was.
Thomas.
Tailored suit, tight tie, perfectly styled hair… and still tasteless as ever. That try-hard American kitsch. She had tried to guide him toward European fashion once upon a time. He’d refused.
Red flag number one.
You can have money. You can’t buy style. Not like Ilias, who looked like sex on a stick just existing.
“What the fuck do you want?” Ilias snapped, voice sharp and low.
Protective Ilias was dangerously hot.
Thomas stopped by their table, hands in his pockets like he owned the place.
“Sofia,” he said, ignoring Ilias completely. “Can we speak in private, without your bodyguard?”
“I’m her boyfriend,” Ilias growled.
“And anything you want to say,” Sofia added, “you can say in front of him.”
“Can we just be civil for once?” Thomas sighed dramatically.
“I wasn’t the one who started acting like a child.”
“If you can’t read your own contract clause, that’s not on me. That’s on your intellect,” he snapped with a cruel smirk.
“Dude, leave her alone,” Ilias repeated, voice tighter now.
“What do you want, Thomas?”
He pulled out a chair without asking and sat between them, deliberately angling his body toward Sofia, giving Ilias his back.
“First off, you look stunning.”
“Drop the fucking fake compliments and get to the point,” Sofia snapped, arms crossed. The spikes were out. Her entire body was tense, poised. She knew Thomas too well, he always saved the worst for last.
“Alright,” Thomas said, cool as ever. “Let’s be clear: I know your whole little relationship act is fake. One—you’re too smart for a surfer. Two—he’s clearly not your type. I mean, have you seen me and him?”
Sofia’s lip curled in disgust.
“And three,” he added, voice dropping, “isn’t it a little too convenient how 200k was wired into your business’ account right before you started falling in love with your fake boyfriend?
Come on, Sofia. Tell me TerraVive didn’t just buy your silence and your affection.
Did you sell out to another money-making institution? ”
Ilias leaned forward, jaw clenching, but Sofia stopped him with a glare.
Her eyes locked on Thomas. Calm. Icy.
“Are you seriously trying to defame me,” she said slowly, “because I walked away from you and decided I deserved better?”
Thomas opened his mouth.
“Whatever information you think you have,” she cut in, “it’s jealousy. Nothing more. Ilias and I are happy. We’re together. And we’re solid.”
Thomas leaned in, trying to play charming. She recoiled. Ilias reached forward and grabbed him by the lapel, tugging him back hard.
“Stay the fuck away from her.”
“Are you threatening me?” Thomas sneered, glaring at the hand gripping his jacket.
“I’m ready to do worse if you don’t get lost.”
Thomas scoffed. Sofia stood up between them immediately. The last thing they needed was Ilias getting a legal complaint for assault.
“Leave, Thomas. I don’t need anything from you. I hope you enjoy presenting my research today. I hope you can answer the questions. I doubt you’ve spent a single fucking day in a lab.”
Thomas stood, glaring at her. Then at Ilias. And with a nasty sneer, he muttered, “Have fun with my trash.”
Sofia’s nostrils flared. Her hand shot to Ilias’ chest, holding him back as he started to lunge.
“Look at me,” she whispered urgently.
His eyes snapped to hers, molten fury cooling slightly into something more vulnerable.
“I’m going to kill him for what he just said about you.”
“No,” she said. “You’re going to kiss me. That’s all.”
And he did.
His mouth crashed onto hers with hunger, hands sliding around her ass, gripping it, pulling her against him with zero subtlety. Their hips collided, her gasp caught between their lips, and it was like fire spread through her entire nervous system.
Maybe it started as a show. Maybe not. But she didn’t care.
When they finally broke apart, breathless, Thomas was gone. But his words stayed.
The 200k detail... that was too specific. Way too specific.
She needed to call her sister. And Jamie. Immediately.