Sophia Reyes didn't like being back at Knight Industries.
The building itself was beautiful—glass and steel stretching into the sky, polished marble floors, sleek modern furniture that screamed money. It was the kind of place that made people like her parents feel unwelcome, the kind of office that made her remember how far she'd come from the cramped, flickering lights of her father's repair shop in Queens.
She had earned her place in this world, carved it out with her own hands, but places like this? They still made her skin itch. Maybe because they reminded her of him.
Bobby Knight.
Standing next to him was like standing in direct sunlight—too bright, too hot, impossible to ignore. And now, thanks to Easton's brilliant idea of forcing them to collaborate, she was stuck working with the one man who knew exactly how to get under her skin.
She smoothed her blazer as the elevator doors slid shut, taking her to the executive floor. Keep it professional, Sophia. This was business. Just business.
The doors opened, and there he was—leaning against his office doorframe like he had all the time in the world. Hair perfectly mussed like he'd rolled out of bed looking effortlessly sharp. Shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows, showing off expensive cufflinks and strong forearms she refused to notice.
"Missed me already?" he drawled.
She breezed past him without answering, walking straight into his office. "Let's set some rules."
Bobby followed her in, shutting the door with a quiet click. "Rules. I love rules."
"I'm serious." She spun to face him, arms crossed. "We work together for the pitch. Strictly professional. No personal history, no old grudges, and no stupid flirting."
Bobby's grin sharpened. "So you admit it's flirting."
She clenched her jaw. "I admit nothing."
"Relax, Reyes." He dropped into the chair across from her, all lazy arrogance. "This is business. Just business."
She hated how easily he could parrot her own words back at her, twisting them into something smug.
Sophia exhaled slowly. "Fine. Let's get started."
They worked in silence for exactly fifteen minutes before Bobby broke it.
"Why'd you really take this contract?" he asked, fingers tapping absently against the desk.
Sophia kept her eyes on the mock presentation slide in front of her. "Same reason you did. It's a game changer."
"Bullshit."
She glanced up sharply. "Excuse me?"
"Come on, Reyes." He leaned back, arms crossed. "Your company's doing fine. This contract's big, but it's not make-or-break for NovaTech. So why?"
She debated lying. It would be easier than admitting the truth. But the memory of her mother in that hospital bed, the oxygen monitor beeping softly, the worry lines carved deep into her father's face flashed behind her eyes.
"Medical bills," she said quietly. "My mom needs long-term care. Insurance won't cover half of it."
The smile slid off Bobby's face. For a second, he looked almost human. Almost kind.
"I'm sorry," he said, and for once, it didn't sound smug.
Sophia shrugged, masking the knot in her throat. "It's life."
Bobby nodded slowly. "I get it."
"Do you?" The words slipped out before she could stop them. "You grew up in a penthouse, Bobby. Money's never been something you had to worry about."
His jaw tightened. "That's exactly why I get it."
There was something in his tone something that hinted at cracks under all that polish. But before she could press, the door swung open and a blonde woman strolled in, holding two coffee cups and radiating chaotic energy.
"Morning, Bobby," the woman said, dropping one cup in front of him and handing the other to Sophia. "And you must be Sophia. I've heard all about you."
Sophia raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered or concerned."
"Both." The woman grinned. "I'm Emma. Bobby's favorite sibling."
"Only sibling," Bobby muttered, but there was affection in his voice.
Sophia shook Emma's hand, surprised by the firm grip and easy warmth. "Nice to meet you."
"I'm staying for this meeting," Emma announced, plopping into the chair next to Bobby. "You two working together is either going to be genius or a disaster. Either way, I want front row seats."
"Emma," Bobby groaned. "Don't you have your own job?"
"Flexible schedule." She waved a hand. "Nonprofit life. It's glorious."
Sophia hid a smile behind her coffee cup. She liked Emma immediately.
The work session stretched for hours. To Sophia's surprise, Bobby was…good. He knew his stuff, and when he wasn't trying to one-up her, they actually worked well together. They argued, of course over everything from slide order to font choice, but under the arguments, there was a rhythm.
Somewhere between lunch and early evening, Emma's phone rang and she slipped out, leaving them alone again.
It felt quieter without Emma's running commentary. Too quiet.
Bobby rolled up his sleeves further, pacing as he talked through the supply chain strategy. Sophia tried very hard not to notice the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders.
Focus.
"You're doing that thing again," he said, mid sentence.
"What thing?" She frowned.
"The face." He smirked. "The one you make when you're trying really hard not to admit I'm right."
She scowled. "You're not right."
"I'm always right."
"God, you're insufferable."
He stepped closer, resting his hands on the table between them, leaning in just enough that she could smell his cologne something expensive and unfairly attractive. "And yet, you're still here."
Sophia's breath caught. For a second, it felt like college all over again the late-night study sessions, the sharp words masking sharper attraction. The one moment they'd almost kissed, before pride and fear got in the way.
She straightened, stepping back. "This is strictly professional, remember?"
"Right." His gaze flicked to her mouth, just for a second. "Strictly."
The air crackled. Sophia grabbed her laptop and broke the tension with sheer force of will. "We should call it a night. I need to check in on my mom."
Bobby's expression softened. "Want a ride to the hospital?"
The offer threw her. "Why would you do that?"
He shrugged. "Because I know what it's like to have complicated parents."
Sophia hesitated. This this almost kindness was dangerous territory. She didn't want to see a softer side of Bobby Knight. That way led to forgiveness. To history rewriting itself.
"I'll be fine," she said briskly, heading for the door. "See you tomorrow."
As the door closed behind her, Bobby stood alone in the office, hands braced on the table.
This was getting messy. Faster than he expected.
And somewhere, deep down, he knew the real truth:
He didn't mind at all.