Chapter 61
SOFIA
El Mismo Aire – Camilo, Pablo Alborán
“What are you doing here, Sofia?” Thomas asked again, right after Yasmine picked up the phone call, that—if her plan worked, if Ilias did his job—might finally stop this nonsense.
Jeremy suddenly became very invested in a carpet.
“I’m here to stop all of this, Thomas.” She lifted her chin, crossed her arms, felt the familiar tension settle between her brows. She wasn’t going to show a single crack.
“Stop what?” He scoffed. “Do you have any idea how much money we move around at Whitmore LLC? The amount I offered her, I could double it without blinking.” The smug look he used to reserve for enemies was now aimed straight at her.
“This isn’t about money. Or Imsouane,” Sofia said evenly. “It’s about us.”
Thomas laughed. “Do you really think the world revolves around you, Sofia? Grow up.”
“I heard what you said to Ilias a few weeks ago.” Better not to mention it had been recorded.
“Do you really think this is about us breaking up? That offering me back the presidency of NIMS would make me crawl back? Do you think I’m that shallow?
” Her voice sharpened. “Do you even know what I actually want?”
“You wanted that,” Thomas snapped. “The Sofia I knew wanted it more than anything. And I would give it to you, if it meant having you back.”
“That Sofia died months ago,” she said, pointing at him, her nostrils flaring.
“And you killed her. You and your lies. You and your fucking money that buys everything. You made me hate the only career I ever wanted. You made me despise my research, the hours in the lab, the sacrifices. You made me hate myself for trusting you.” Her voice shook despite her efforts.
She paused, breathing deeply, refusing to cry.
“Oh, come on,” Thomas sneered. “Cry. That’s what you do best. You get mad, you cry, and then I’m the villain. But did you ever think I got you that job because I loved you?”
“That’s not love,” Sofia snapped. “Nepotism isn’t love. Buying positions isn’t love. That’s your idea of affection because that’s how you were raised. But porca di quella puttana, it was never what I needed.”
“If you’d just understood me—”
“Excuse me?” She stared at him. “What exactly was I supposed to understand? That Daddy paid for your influence? That you lied your way into my career?”
“I got you a job!”
“I didn’t want it that way!” she shouted.
“While you were partying, I was studying my ass off to earn scholarships, to get into San Diego, to study marine biology at the best school in the world. While you were snorting coke—and don’t deny it—I was in the lab building something real, making a change in the marine world.
And now I’m free of you, building Salacia from the ground up, working my ass off, and you’re sabotaging me.
Telling TerraVive to back off. Trying to buy a town just to build a resort you don’t even care about. ”
Thomas ran a hand through his hair. “Working your ass off? Please. Opening your legs seems more accurate. Jamie told me about your PR stunt with the surfer before you even went public. You can stop pretending it’s real. The show’s over.”
“At least he knows how to make me come,” Sofia shot back. Jeremy coughed loudly, suddenly fascinated by a statue. “And he cares. He always has. He showed me what love actually is.” Her voice dropped. “And if you read my statement, why didn’t you say you were sorry about my father?”
Her chin trembled. “You knew him for eight years. He welcomed you like a son. And you never once asked how I was. If you’d loved me—even a little—that would’ve been the first thing you did.”
Thomas didn’t answer.
“All of this,” she continued, steady now, “isn’t business. It’s your bruised ego. You didn’t care until I moved on. Until Ilias. You’re petty. You always have been. An egocentric, narcissistic rich kid who thinks money fixes everything.”
His jaw tightened. Rage carved into his face.
“What do you gain by buying Imsouane?” she pressed. “Besides hurting Ilias?”
Silence. The wall. When Thomas had no answer, he shut down.
“You haven’t changed,” she scoffed. “You wait for others to clean up your messes.”
“I loved you,” he said flatly.
“No,” Sofia shook her head. “You loved the idea of me. You never surfed with me. Never dove. Never cared about my nieces. You never learned my languages, my cultures. It was always your world, your rules. Never us.” Her voice softened. “Your betrayal freed me.”
“Eight years,” he whispered.
“Eight years,” she replied. “And what of them?”
“Don’t you miss us?”
“No,” she said simply. “I don’t.”
Yasmine stepped in then, eyes wet. “I’m not selling the restaurant. I’m sorry. It’s not what we want.”
Thomas didn’t even look at her. “This place is a dump.”
And without another word, he left, stomping out of the restaurant in the most childish way possible. In the end, it had been anticlimactic, and she didn’t know if she had convinced him to stop.
“I’m sorry, Miss Moretti,” Jeremy stepped closer to her, his eyes cast down.
“Is he going to leave Imsouane, or just the restaurant?” she asked, not sure what to do with his pity.
“I don’t know. Mister Whitmore can be… volatile.”
Sofia nodded as Ilias entered the restaurant, followed by Ghita.
Jeremy looked around, nervous, then added, “His father didn’t sponsor the project. He called it a tantrum over you leaving him, as you pointed out in your discussion.”
Sofia cocked an eyebrow.
“Sorry for listening.”
She shook her head. “And if his father wasn’t sponsoring it, where did his money come from? Does he have a fund?”
“I know you’re helping Lamina investigate NIMS—I got a birdie telling me,” Jeremy said quietly. “I sent in my notice to Whitmore yesterday. If you ever need help, you know where to find me.”
“Why would you do that?” Ilias interjected, crossing his arms and probably scaring the shit out of poor Jeremy.
“Because I’ve been working under the Whitmores for ages, and Thomas has been making very bad decisions for a very long time,” Jeremy replied. “His father isn’t happy, and I’m not going to keep working for someone so… petty.”
Sofia smiled. “I never knew how you could work with him.”
“I could say the same,” Jeremy chuckled, and Sofia couldn’t hold back a scoff.
“Touché.”
“If you need anything, Miss Moretti, I’ll be happy to finally work for some good.”
As he left, Sofia didn’t really know what to make of everything. But as she let Ilias pull her into a hug, she released a shaky breath, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
“It’s okay,” Ilias whispered. “You’ve been brave, Sofia.”
She wasn’t sad about what she’d said to Thomas. Those were tears of happiness, of relief, of closure. Finally, she had told him everything she thought of him, and she felt freer. Lighter.