After two grueling hours of navigating the treacherous landscape of Death Valley, Sofia and Christ finally emerged from the shadows and found their teams waiting anxiously. The moment they appeared, Aaron's eyes locked onto Sofia, his expression a mixture of relief and desperation. His usually composed demeanor had crumbled, replaced by a frantic worry that softened Sofia's heart.

"Boss, you're safe," Aaron breathed, his voice thick with emotion. The intensity of his concern was clear, and for a moment, Sofia felt a warmth in her chest, her hardened exterior softening in response to his care.

But as their eyes met, an icy chill settled in the air. It was as if the very atmosphere had changed, thickening with unspoken tension. Christ stood a short distance away, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before him. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were now filled with a cold fury that he struggled to keep in check. If looks could kill, Aaron would have been struck down without mercy. Christ's stare was piercing, a silent warning that spoke of the inner turmoil he refused to acknowledge.

For Christ, this moment was a bitter pill to swallow. He knew, deep down, that he was developing feelings for Sofia—feelings that had no place in the life he had meticulously crafted for himself. He was Christ Roy, heir to a vast empire, a man trained to be unyielding and emotionless, for emotions were nothing but a sign of weakness. And weakness was something he could not afford. To allow himself to feel, to indulge in the luxury of love, was to risk everything he had worked for.

He clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he fought to suppress the anger and jealousy bubbling within him. He had spent his entire life being cold, calculated, and focused—there was no room in his world for anything as trivial as love. Yet, there was no denying the way his heart had begun to stir whenever Sofia was near, the way his thoughts lingered on her even when he willed them not to.

But Christ Roy was not a man who would allow a mere feeling to dictate his future. Love was fleeting, temporary—a distraction from his true purpose. He had been groomed to lead, to be strong, to crush any vulnerability that dared to surface. And so, as he stood there, watching Aaron fuss over Sofia, he made a decision.

His expression hardened, the warmth in his eyes vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. The aura around him grew colder, more distant, until it was as if the man who had just risked his life to protect Sofia in that cave no longer existed. In his place was the Christ Roy everyone knew—the stoic, unfeeling heir who would let nothing and no one deter him from his path.

Without a word, Christ turned away from the scene, his back straight, his steps measured. He glanced at Sofia one last time, his eyes devoid of the emotion that had threatened to overtake him just moments before. There was nothing left of the man who had shown even a flicker of tenderness in that cave—only the cold, calculating leader remained.

As he boarded the military chopper, which had been summoned as soon as they had gone missing, Christ left behind any trace of the feelings that had begun to surface. He knew that he could never allow himself to be ruled by something as unpredictable as love. He would return to his life, to his duties, and bury any lingering emotions deep within, where they could never reach him again.

The chopper's blades whirred to life, lifting off the ground and carrying Christ away from Death Valley, away from Sofia, and away from the dangerous feelings that had begun to grow in his heart. He stared out at the vast, barren landscape below, his face a mask of indifference.

As the distance between them grew, Christ reminded himself of who he was, of the responsibilities he bore, and of the future he was destined to lead. In his world, there was no place for love, no place for weakness. He would not change his course for anyone, not even for Sofia.

And so, with a final, resolute glance at the horizon, Christ Roy sealed off his heart once more, determined to be the man he was always meant to be—cold, strong, and untouchable.

As the roar of the military chopper carrying Christ faded into the distance, Sofia stood rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on the shrinking silhouette of the aircraft. Her heart was a storm of emotions, each one crashing into the other, leaving her bewildered and unsure. She had always been clear-headed, decisive—qualities that had earned her respect and authority. But now, as she watched Christ leave, her emotions betrayed her, swirling in a tangled mess she could not untangle.

She had never imagined herself feeling this way, especially not about Christ Roy, the man known for his coldness, his unyielding demeanor, and his relentless pursuit of power. Yet, the events of the past days had changed something within her. She thought back to the moment in the cave when Christ had protected her, risking his life without a second thought. The memory was vivid, the way he had shielded her with his body, the unspoken connection that had passed between them in those silent seconds. It had been brief, but in that fleeting moment, Sofia had seen a side of Christ that he had never shown to the world—a side that was warm, caring, and even vulnerable.

But now, that moment seemed like a dream, slipping away as quickly as it had come. Christ had left, retreating back into the fortress he had built around himself, shutting out any possibility of feeling. His departure felt like a cold wind blowing through her, chilling the warmth that had begun to grow in her heart. Sofia's emotions were conflicted, and she didn't know how to reconcile them. On one hand, she admired Christ's strength, his dedication to his duty. On the other, she couldn't deny the ache in her chest, the feeling of loss that gnawed at her as she watched him disappear into the sky.

Finally, Sofia tore her gaze away, her face a mask of composure even as her heart churned with feelings she could not name. She knew they had to move on, to return to the capital, to resume their lives as if nothing had changed. And yet, everything had changed. Sofia could sense it in the way her thoughts kept drifting back to Christ, to the way his eyes had softened for just a moment before turning cold again.

With a deep breath, Sofia signaled to her team, and they began the long journey back along the same route they had taken to reach Death Valley. The landscape around them was harsh and unforgiving, much like the emotions swirling in Sofia's heart. Every step they took brought her closer to the capital, but farther away from the experience that had stirred something deep within her.

The journey was silent, the team too exhausted to speak, each lost in their own thoughts. Sofia's mind was miles away, replaying the events of the past days, trying to make sense of the confusion in her heart. She knew she couldn't afford to let her emotions interfere with her duties—just as Christ had chosen to bury his feelings, she too would have to do the same. But as much as she tried to focus on the path ahead, her thoughts kept circling back to Christ, to the way he had looked at her in that brief moment of vulnerability, to the way he had so easily slipped back into his cold, distant persona.

By the time they finally reached the capital, Sofia felt both relieved and weary. The familiar sights and sounds of the city greeted them, but they seemed distant, as if she were seeing them through a fog. She tried to shake off the complicated emotions that still lingered, telling herself that it was just the fatigue from the journey, that with time, these feelings would fade.

But deep down, Sofia knew that something had shifted within her. The experience had changed her in ways she couldn't yet fully understand. And as she took a last glance in the direction where Christ had disappeared, a part of her wondered if she would ever be able to forget the way his eyes had looked at her, even for that one brief moment.