“Good,” Sofia replied as he closed the room door behind them.
Ilias laced their fingers together as they made their way toward the conference room. Sofia smiled and waved politely at people passing by, but there was still that shyness to her that made him want to protect her and press her up against a wall at the same time.
Outside the main room, a long line snaked around the building. Teddy, the event organizer, waved them over.
“We have another panel finishing up inside. These people are all waiting for you. Isn’t that exciting?”
People in line called their names. They waved. Sofia looked like a deer in headlights. Ilias, on the other hand, was used to it. He’d been signing autographs and posing for selfies since he won his first title.
“I’m letting you lead this autograph bullshit,” Sofia muttered in Spanish.
“Hope one day you’ll let me lead in other ways,” he replied, low enough that only she could hear.
The flustered flush in her cheeks was all he needed to know she got the innuendo. And she wasn’t hating it.
When the conference doors opened, Thomas walked out, surrounded by a group of stiff-suited, polished assholes laughing like they owned the world.
Ilias instinctively pulled Sofia closer. She leaned into him, stiff and upright, but calm.
“Look, it’s Doctor Moretti Gómez,” Thomas sneered. “Remember her? She helped build our research and then ran off to start a boat business in Portugal.”
The people around him chuckled.
“And then, of course, she made an even worse decision pretending to be in love with a surfer.”
The laughter doubled.
“What’s your problem, dude?” Ilias snapped.
Thomas smiled, razor-sharp. “Just fascinated by how far Sofia’s fallen. Faking a PR relationship with you? You must be proud.”
“I love him,” Sofia said.
And Ilias’ heart stopped for half a second. Was she lying? Acting? Probably. Yeah, it had to be part of the script.
But the words still hit him like a wave.
“He understands me,” she added. “He listens to me, something you never did. So, stop bullying us, stop playing puppet-master, and go gloat with your rich friends—hi, Paola—and maybe, maybe, try doing your own damn research instead of stealing it from others.”
“Defamation.”
“Is it?” Sofia folded her arms. “Whatever. Let everyone come out so we can start our panel.”
“They’re all out,” Teddy whispered to them.
A grin bloomed on Ilias’ face as Thomas turned red with irritation.
“Let’s go in, habiba,” he said, wrapping his arm around Sofia and guiding her forward.
But Thomas stepped in, hand pressing into Ilias’ chest. “You’re going down. You and your little useless surf project.”
Ilias saw red.
He was going to swing. He needed to.
But once again, Sofia stepped between them.
“Are you obsessed with us, Thomas?” she spat. “Get a fucking life.”
