Chapter 16 A Battle of Wills

Z had quickly become the center of attention in the room. His laid-back confidence was evident as he listed his various degrees, seemingly oblivious to—or perhaps intentionally ignoring—the intensity of the moment. But when Sophia Smith glanced over and saw Ivy standing at a distance, her expression froze.

Ivy, the novel's destined female lead, stood rooted in place, her delicate features a mix of curiosity and unease. Her gaze flicked between Z and Sophia, lingering longer on Z with a trace of something unreadable—was it admiration, suspicion, or intrigue?

"You're being watched," Sophia muttered to Z through gritted teeth, trying to pull her hand free from his grip.

"Of course, I am," Z replied calmly, not even sparing a glance at Ivy. His attention remained fixed on Sophia's bruised wrist. He gently turned it under the dim hallway light, his movements far too tender for someone who often seemed so detached. "You think they don't already suspect something? The question is, what will they do about it?"

"Maybe stop making it worse by acting like we're…whatever this is," Sophia hissed, yanking her hand back. "We already stick out like a sore thumb. Thanks to you, I'm now part of the circus act too."

Z smirked, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "It's not an act if it's the truth."

Sophia groaned internally, frustrated and entirely done with his cryptic remarks. She turned away from him, rubbing her wrist. Her mind buzzed with concern about Ivy's reaction. In the original novel, Ivy was supposed to eventually enter Z's orbit—charmed by his brilliance and mystery, though not without trepidation. But Sophia being stuck in the middle of this mess? That was an entirely unplanned deviation.

Ivy finally stepped forward, her hesitation replaced by a smile that radiated perfect composure. "Excuse me," she said softly, her voice melodic. "I couldn't help but overhear. Are you a doctor, Professor?"

Sophia's heart sank. Here it comes.

Z turned to Ivy, his gaze as steady as ever, though Sophia swore she caught a fleeting glimmer of interest. "Among other things," he said with an almost lazy charm. "Though I wouldn't go so far as to call myself just a doctor. That would be...limiting."

Ivy's lips curved into an amused smile. "Fascinating. And are you here to help with the issues at the base? I've heard you're a specialist in quite a few fields."

Sophia almost rolled her eyes. Subtle, Ivy. Very subtle.

Z raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "I suppose you could say I'm here on invitation. And you are?"

"Ivy," she replied, offering a friendly nod. Her blonde hair shimmered under the dim lights, framing her delicate face perfectly. "I was brought here recently. I heard the base has been struggling, and I'd love to do anything I can to contribute."

Her words were syrupy sweet, but her sharp eyes flicked briefly to Sophia. There it was—the unspoken battle for attention.

Sophia crossed her arms and stepped slightly back, letting Z deal with the incoming storm of interest. She wanted no part of this, especially if it meant interacting with the person whose future entanglement with Z was written in stone. She wasn't about to play some side character in a power play.

Z, however, seemed wholly uninterested in Ivy's theatrics. He regarded her with the same indifference he'd shown to the other members of the base. "How noble of you," he said flatly. "Though I imagine you'd contribute more if you stayed out of the way."

Ivy blinked, clearly not expecting such a blunt dismissal. She quickly recovered, though, her smile unwavering. "I see," she said with a soft laugh. "Well, I wouldn't want to impose. Perhaps another time, Professor."

She turned on her heel, her departure graceful but brisk. For a split second, Sophia thought she saw a flash of irritation cross Ivy's face as she walked away. Maybe Z wasn't as easily won over as she thought. Still, it was only a matter of time. The plot was bound to right itself, wasn't it?

Sophia exhaled and finally let her tension melt away as Ivy disappeared from view. "Well," she said, leaning against the wall. "That was...awkward."

Z glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "You're jealous."

Sophia nearly choked. "What?"

"You're jealous," he repeated, his tone matter-of-fact. "Of her. I'd guess because you think she has some claim over me in the narrative you've constructed in your mind."

Sophia sputtered. "Excuse me? I don't care about—"

"You're wrong," he interrupted, stepping closer. His height loomed over her, his presence suffocating. "About many things. Most importantly, about me. You think you understand, but you don't. That woman," he gestured lazily toward where Ivy had disappeared, "could stand in front of me for a century and I wouldn't so much as blink. You, however..." He trailed off, his voice dropping to a murmur. "You're the one I can't seem to shake."

Sophia stared at him, caught completely off-guard. For a moment, she swore she saw something vulnerable in his eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared.

"I—" she started, unsure of how to respond, but he cut her off again.

"Get some rest," he said brusquely, turning away. "We'll need our strength for what's coming."

And with that, he strode off, leaving her standing alone in the corridor, her heart pounding for reasons she didn't dare analyze.

The looming threat of their arrival in this precarious base—and Z's ever-growing unpredictability—was enough to keep her mind racing. For now, all she could do was follow the course of events and hope she survived the storm that was undoubtedly brewing.