Sophia’s POV
The air in the research facility felt heavy with the scent of ozone and sterilized surfaces. For the past few days, I had buried myself in work, using the complex molecular structures and clinical data as a shield against the mounting tension in my personal life. The looming medical exhibition was the only thing that felt within my control.
Clark had been a constant presence, his easy efficiency a stark contrast to the volatile energy that seemed to follow Vito. Every time I looked up from a microscope or a spreadsheet, he was there, offering a cup of espresso or a supportive word on the molecular stability of our new compound.
"You're pushing yourself too hard, Isabella," Clark said, leaning against the edge of my desk. "The project is solid. We've double-checked every pro
