Chapter 58
ILIAS
Deira – Saint Levant, MC Abdul
Walking around Imsouane with Sofia’s hand in his felt like crawling back through memories he had tried hard to erase.
The two years he had spent away from competition, drifting between Imsouane and Málaga, were a blur of confusion—trying to find balance in a life that constantly reminded him he was never enough for either place.
His Arabic carried Spanish tones, and his Spanish held Arabic cadences.
It was a duality he was still making peace with, and watching how Sofia had embraced her own complexity over the past months made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t before.
Somehow, no matter how much you grow up in both places, one steals a bigger part of your heart.
It should’ve been Spain. That’s where he studied, where his closest friends lived.
But Morocco… Morocco had taught him how to surf.
How to love the ocean. How to recover from the greatest heartbreak and disappointment of his life.
And while logic pointed to Spain—where his Moroccan mother had found peace—his heart knew the truth.
Morocco had claimed it long ago, maybe even before he decided to represent it in the USL.
But now, as they strolled through the dusty narrow alleys painted in sun-washed blue and dusty red—the very streets of his summers—he knew exactly where his feet were taking him.
When they stopped in front of the restaurant where his father used to spend his days when Azul had no clients, Ilias took a deep breath.
“So,” he began, voice low, “The first stop of our trip to convince businesses not to sell to Thomas is…my step-mother’s restaurant.”
Sofia frowned and slid off her sunglasses, her deep brown eyes narrowing in concern.
He gestured to the restaurant in front of them.
“The owner is Yasmine, and she’s the mother of my half-brother.
He’s fifteen years old. We don’t have a great relationship, he moved to Casablanca to study because Imsouane doesn’t have the best resources…
but yeah, I’m digressing.” He paused, taking a deep breath.
“Yasmine’s age might surprise you, so I want to warn you that she’s just a couple years older than me. ”
Sofia’s eyes widened, blinking in surprise. Then, in classic Sofia fashion, she simply muttered, “Sticazzi.” He had learned that was her way of saying Damn, that’s wild, and it made him smile even in that moment.
“Amira and I never wanted a relationship with them. My mother almost burned the place down when she found out. So… tensions are high. But Ghita said Yasmine might know something about Thomas, so I guess I have to put my pride aside and ask.”
“It’s okay,” Sofia said gently, her fingers brushing his. “Us against the world, remember?”
“I didn’t tell you because I felt stupid. Embarrassed,” he admitted. “I’m a grown man, but I was shattered when I found out my dad had slept with someone practically my age, had a kid with her… and was happy. That was the last fight we had. It was chaos.”
“All your feelings are valid, Ilias. You don’t need to justify them with me.
You had every right to be upset.” Then, she made one of those Sofia faces, where you could clearly see she was about to say something politically incorrect or rude.
Now that he had met her father, he understood where those expressions came from.
“I mean, I would be fuming if I knew my father had a double life, and with someone half his age.”
He smiled, pulling her into a hug. “I truly needed you here.”
“And I’m here, as you were there for me,” she replied, caressing his cheek. “Let’s go see what she knows.”
The restaurant was bright, overlooking the Bay, where they had surfed the day before.
It was decorated in vibrant yet soft Moroccan colors—earthy reds, muted aquas, warm oranges.
Last time he was there, he had been celebrating his second USL title.
The same night he had fought with his father and made a scene in front of everyone, Yasmine and Emir—his half-brother—included.
If Amira and Ghita hadn’t dragged him away, while his mother cried in a corner, he would have probably punched him.
The moment they stepped inside, all those memories came back.
Hitting him like a blow. It was a version of himself he didn’t like, never did truthfully.
It was the reason why he stopped drinking, why he started therapy.
Because no matter what had happened, he shouldn’t have reacted that way and his reactivity had almost cost his career again in Ericeira if Alejandra and her absurd PR Stunt had actually worked, bringing Sofia into his life and turning it brighter.
As they rounded the corner, Yasmine appeared. Her smile faltered when her eyes landed on Ilias.
“Look who’s back. What do you want, Ilias?” she asked flatly in Darija.
He lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I already apologized for what I did that night.”
“Yes, you did,” she replied, lips pursed. Her gaze moved to Sofia, who offered her hand with a warm smile.
“I’m Sofia, his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.” She introduced herself in French.
“I’m Yasmine. Nice to meet you too.” Yasmine switched to French too, allowing Sofia to understand the rest of the conversation.
“I’m here for something that might help Imsouane,” Ilias said. “Something bigger than family drama.”
“You want to talk about that American businessman sniffing around? The one trying to buy everything up?” Yasmine folded her arms. “Before you ask—I already told Ghita. I will do what’s best for my family, for Emir’s future.”
Ilias clenched his jaw. That wasn’t good news. “How much money did he offer?”
“Ilias…” Sofia hissed his name, warning him. Definitely not the best question he could do accompanied with a very accusatory tone, which made Yasmine recoil and went defensive.
“It’s none of your business, Ilias. You have all your money from surfing and brands. You can throw money into Azul and be content with it. I can’t. This restaurant–” she sighed. “You have no right to come here and judge me.”
“He clearly shouldn’t have asked that,” Sofia interjected, her French coming out half broken, like her version of Portuguese, but Yasmine understood her.
“I think he meant exactly that,” Yasmine crossed her arms. “I don’t know you, Sofia, but Ilias has always been selfish enough to think just about himself, his mother, and his sister, and never even considered Emir and I were as hurt from the discovery as they were.”
“You knew, Yasmine. Don’t play dumb with me,” Ilias raised his voice, unable to control his reaction.
Yasmine’s nostrils flared. “He told me Zainab and him had broken up, that’s why he was always here and never in Málaga. We were played as much as you were.”
“And you never considered asking?” Ilias asked. “We’ve been around for years before the shitshow came out.”
“Zainab wasn’t around. Always in Málaga. You and Amira came down just when you weren’t surfing around the world. And José Antonio was here, alone, dealing with Azul. He convinced me he wasn’t in love with her anymore, and that he went back to Spain just for you two.”
“I know it shouldn’t be my time to speak since I didn’t know…
him. But I know Ilias, and by what you are telling me, you both were hurt by a man who didn’t have the skills to deal with how he processed love and lies,” Sofia declared, pausing several times to gather words, saying them in Spanish so that Ilias could translate them to her.
“Whatever,” Yasmine shrugged. “I’m going to do what’s best for me and Emir. Your father left me this, and now I can do with it whatever I want. Maybe selling it will free me from the debts that man left me.”
Ilias clenched his jaw. The reading of the will had been a shitshow too, with Amira and him discovering they had inherited Azul, and Yasmine had inherited the restaurant on the beach. While their mother absolutely nothing. His father had been a piece of shit until the very end.
“Selling it to Whitmore LLC will just destroy Imsouane, destroy its beauty, destroy its environment, hurt the ecosystem, terrestrial and maritime,” Sofia continued.
“I understand you need the money, and I would never judge someone to take the money in case of need, but consider the consequences of you selling it to him.”
Yasmine studied her. “Do you know the American?”
“He’s my ex,” Sofia explained. “And he’s making my life hell. He’s trying to sabotage my business, my relationship, and to that end, Ilias’ business, just to stay in control.”
“I don’t understand,” Yasmine declared. “What does it have to do with selling my restaurant?”
“Do you know what’s his final goal?” Ilias asked.
“I don’t care.”
“You should care. It will destroy Imsouane’s charm and landscape forever. You know he’s going to build with his business a big luxury hotel that will destroy the old town.”
Ilias watched Yasmine closely. Her posture stiffened. She was listening now.
“What Ghita wants to do with Azul could bring way more money than the ones Thomas will give you,” Sofia continued. “Believe me. If he gives you the money but you don’t use it wisely, you will find yourself with no money and no job.”
“I know I messed up two years ago,” Ilias added. “When I found out about you and my father, I didn’t handle it well. But I’ve tried to make amends since. If you can help us, we’d be grateful. If not, I understand.”
Yasmine studied them both for a long moment, unreadable.
“He’s coming here for lunch,” Yasmine informed.
“What?” Sofia’s head snapped up. “Thomas is coming here? Today?”
“I’m going to give him my final response.”
“Are you actually considering it?” Ilias asked, heart clenching.
“As I told you before, yes,” Yasmine said, firmly. “This place is as much your father’s legacy as Azul is, and as Azul has been a pain in the ass for you, this restaurant has been a pain in the ass for me.”
“How can we make you change your mind?” Sofia asked, looking defeated.
Yasmine shook her head. “I’m doing it for my son. Unless you can come up with something better than the money he’s offering me, I will sell it today.”
Ilias muttered a curse, while Sofia kept looking at Yasmine. “If I come up with something better, would you consider not selling it?”
“Maybe.”
“Could you hold back the sale?”
“I can’t promise it.”
“Can we just stay here, then? We’ll grab some bites, and I’ll prepare a proposal while you talk to him. Then, you’ll decide.”
Yasmine nodded. “Take a seat wherever you want.”
Ilias frowned as he followed Sofia. “What are you thinking about?”
“What is Emir studying in Casablanca?” Sofia asked him, her eyes resolute.
“He’s still in high school.”
“Does anyone in your family talk with him?” Sofia asked.
“Ghita.”
“Call her here. If there’s a person that can convince her to change her mind it is her son.”
“But we don’t know him,” Ilias reminded him as they sat down at a table overlooking the Bay.
“But Ghita does. That’s why I need her,” she smiled, taking her phone out. “Call her while I write down a proposal. I will call Gabri.”
“What’s in your mind, Sofia?” Ilias asked.
“Do you trust me?” her brown eyes studied him.
“Always.”
“Then call Ghita, habibi.”
Ilias smirked, unable to hold back a chuckle. He grabbed his phone, calling Ghita, not sure what Sofia had in mind. But she was the brain of the two, he just had to trust her.