Chapter 15: A War of Stubbornness

Travis's POV

Some people fight battles in boardrooms.

Sophia Moreau fights them everywhere.

And right now?

She was losing.

"You're going to eat," I said, arms crossed, my stance firm as I stared down at her hospital bed.

Sophia tilted her head, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion weighing on her. "That's adorable, Cole. You think you get a say in this?"

Leah sighed dramatically from the other side of the room, dropping a paper bag onto the bedside table. "Don't start, Soph. Just eat the damn food."

Sophia scoffed, turning her glare on Leah. "I'm fine."

Leah arched a brow. "You collapsed, Sophia."

"Once."

Travis pinched the bridge of his nose. "Twice," I corrected. "Twice in less than twenty-four hours."

Sophia rolled her eyes. "And look at that—I survived."

Leah let out a long, suffering sigh, then turned toward me. "You deal with her. I need a break before I strangle her."

With that, she stalked out of the room, leaving me alone with the most stubborn woman on the planet.

I exhaled slowly, leveling her with a look. "Eat the damn sandwich, Moreau."

She smirked. "Make me."

I stepped forward, picking up the bag, and pulled out the sandwich Leah had brought—some organic, high-protein bullshit that was probably expensive as hell.

Sophia wrinkled her nose. "I don't even like turkey and avocado."

I arched a brow. "Don't care."

She huffed. "You are infuriating."

"And you," I said, unwrapping the sandwich and handing it to her, "are going to eat this, or I swear to God, I'll find a way to make it happen."

She lifted a single brow, lips twitching. "That sounds vaguely threatening."

I leaned down, dropping my voice just enough. "It is threatening."

Sophia stared at me.

I stared right back.

And for a second, I thought she might shove the damn sandwich back at me out of sheer spite.

But then, with an exaggerated sigh, she snatched it from my hand.

"Happy?" she muttered, taking the smallest possible bite.

I smirked. "Ecstatic."

She rolled her eyes, chewing slowly, clearly making a show of how inconvenient this was for her.

But she kept eating.

And that was all I cared about.

Leah returned ten minutes later, looking vaguely pleased with herself.

Sophia immediately stiffened. "What did you do?"

Leah smiled sweetly. "Oh, nothing."

Sophia narrowed her eyes. "Leah."

Leah crossed her arms. "You, dear best friend, are taking a mandatory week off."

Sophia froze. "Excuse me?"

I smirked, leaning back against the wall, enjoying this far too much.

Leah continued. "You heard me. No work. No calls. No emails. No secret meetings. You, Sophia Moreau, are officially on leave for the next seven days."

Sophia scoffed. "That's ridiculous."

Leah smirked. "No, what's ridiculous is you working yourself into a coma."

Sophia's jaw clenched. "Leah—"

Leah held up a single finger. "Oh, and before you argue—"all your devices have been removed from your apartment."

Silence.

Sophia blinked. "You didn't."

Leah's smirk widened. "Oh, I did."

Sophia looked at me, eyes blazing. "Tell her this is insane."

I shrugged. "I think it's genius."

She gasped, like I had just betrayed her in the worst possible way.

Leah grinned. "You should have seen the way your assistant gladly handed everything over. The woman is probably popping champagne right now."

Sophia looked like she was moments from strangling Leah.

I decided now was a good time to remind her of something important.

"The doctor said if you don't rest and take care of yourself," I said, voice calm, "it's only going to get worse."

Her eyes snapped to mine.

And just like that, the fight in her wavered.

Not because she wanted to give in.

But because she knew we weren't wrong.

She was already running on fumes. If she didn't stop—if she didn't listen—

She wouldn't recover.

And she knew it.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "Just take the damn break, Moreau."

Her jaw clenched. Her fingers curled into the hospital blanket.

Then, finally—

"Fine."

Leah clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Travis, you're on babysitting duty."

Sophia's head snapped toward her. "What?"

Leah beamed. "Oh, did I not mention? Travis is staying with you."

Sophia's gaze swung toward me. "Absolutely not."

I smirked. "Absolutely yes."

She sat up straighter, gripping the blanket like she was preparing for battle. "That is not happening."

Leah ignored her, grabbing her purse. "Doctor said you need supervision. I would stay, but unlike you, I actually have a business to run."

Sophia let out a sharp breath. "I have a business to run."

Leah grinned. "Not this week, you don't."

Sophia looked seconds away from combusting.

I sighed dramatically, crossing my arms. "I don't know why you're fighting this, Moreau. We both know I always get my way."

Her nostrils flared. "Not this time."

Leah patted her on the head like a child. "Sweetheart, you lost the second you passed out in your office. Accept it."

Sophia opened her mouth—probably to say something cruel and biting—but then she exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Fine," she muttered. "Whatever. One week. That's it."

Leah shot me a knowing look.

Like she knew I wasn't going anywhere after a week.

And maybe—just maybe—so did I.

The hospital released her that evening.

I drove her home, ignoring the icy silence in the car, the way she kept her arms crossed like a petulant child.

She barely looked at me as she walked inside.

Her apartment was sleek, modern, and spotless—like it had never been lived in.

She turned to me, crossing her arms. "Where exactly do you plan on staying?"

I smirked. "Wherever I damn well please."

She let out a slow breath, clearly restraining herself from homicide. "I don't need a babysitter."

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "Then prove it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

I tilted my head. "Rest. Eat. Actually take care of yourself. And maybe I'll leave."

She scoffed. "You're enjoying this way too much."

I smirked. "Infuriating, isn't it?"

Her lips twitched—just slightly.

But she turned away before I could call her out on it.

And as she walked toward her room, I watched the way the tension sat on her shoulders, the way she still carried everything like she was waiting for it to crush her.

She thought this was a battle she had to fight alone.

But this time?

I wasn't letting her.