The researcher eyed Jack suspiciously.

  “But the entire Commonwealth is buzzing. They’re saying a single special forces lieutenant rescued over two hundred POWs from deep behind enemy lines. And they say he was the one who ran the simulation for the whole battle.”

  He paused, his face glowing with hero-worship.

  “It’s incredible! But the lieutenant insists on staying anonymous. The whole net is trying to guess who it is.”

  Jack’s chest swelled with pride. Of course, it was me. Who else would have the brains and the guts?

  But on his face, he wore only a sneer.

  “The guy’s an idiot. If it were me, why would I keep it a secret? You get the money, the women, the fame… who wouldn’t want that?”

  The words left his mouth, and he instantly cursed himself for calling himself an idiot.

  The researcher frowned, still unconvinced.

  “Then how come you were on the same transport as the POWs? I saw it myself this morning at the airfield.”

  Jack’s mind worked fast. He jabbed a thumb toward Dr. Thorne’s lab and lowered his voice.

  “This transfer to War Planning? All thanks to the Professor pulling strings.”

  That name was enough to end it. Nobody in their right mind would risk Thorne’s wrath by digging deeper. The young man left, disappointed but finally silenced.

  Jack chuckled to himself. I’ll deny it to my grave. I’m not going back to the front lines as someone’s poster boy.

  He turned, still pleased with his own cleverness—and froze.

  Nova was leaning against her doorway, arms folded, an amused smirk curving her lips. Her expression was more triumphant than his own.

  His heart leapt. He instantly dropped his mask and hurried over, plastering a sycophantic grin on his face.

  “My Queen, my Goddess, you know that was just an act! You have to keep my secret.”

  Nova said nothing, only hummed coldly through her nose as she moved around the lab. He trailed after her like a chastised puppy. The sway of her hips beneath the lab coat made his throat tighten, memories of the floor rushing back to him.

  At last, he gave up.

  “Nova, sweetheart, what do you want from me?” His voice cracked with mock despair.

  Color flared across her cheeks, her blue eyes flashing as she snapped,

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Get away from me. Who’s your sweetheart, you shameless bastard?”

  But her hand, when it pushed at his chest, lingered. The heat of him under her palm betrayed her. In that instant, her mind betrayed her too—flashing back to his weight, his grasp, that chaotic closeness she couldn’t quite deny.

  Jack seized the opening, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  “Unfair! I’ll admit I threw the Professor under the bus. But when have I ever sold you out?”

  The corner of her mouth twitched. She was caught between fury and laughter.

  “You think you still have a place for me in your little world? Surprised you haven’t betrayed me already!”

  Her voice was sharp, but her breath shook, and her eyes shimmered with something fragile under the surface. The mix of anger and desire in her gaze made heat flare low in Jack’s stomach.

  He leaned closer, his voice low and solemn, almost reverent.

  “Sell you out? After we talked about how hard the floor was? Nova… I’m yours now. Do what you want with me.”

  The ridiculous words, both crude and earnest, broke through her defenses like an explosive charge. Her pale face flushed crimson. She wanted to call him a pig, but her knees weakened at the memory of his body against hers.

  Even the most rational woman has moments like these.

  The sterile lab, the endless arguments, and the months of being forced into each other’s orbits had forged something dangerous between them. And Jack, self-proclaimed master of psychology, knew it.

  But deep inside him, the ghost of another face still stirred whenever he thought of genuine emotion. His first love, unspoken and unresolved, constantly flickered in the shadows. Did I really join the army just to lose weight? Or was it always about her?

  Jack lowered his head, suddenly unable to meet Nova’s eyes, though his hand kept tracing her waist, fingertips sparking little shivers through her body.

  A soft sound escaped her throat before she caught it.

  Seeing his silence, Nova’s own heart softened against her will. She pulled up several project files on the console, covering her own embarrassment.

  “Alright, idiot. Look at these. You just got lucky this time.”

  But as she left, she squeezed his hand quickly, secretly, before closing the door behind her. Her steps were uneven, her face hot with the memory of his touch and the promise he’d once made to “repay her properly.”

  …

  Jack sat down at the console, still replaying the way her hand had lingered. He pulled up the first file, and the title made his pulse jump:

  “A Study on Instantaneous Fortification of AMS Lattice Density Under Stress Conditions.”

  Armor that doubled its strength at the moment of impact. He pictured an ion blade striking, only for the lattice to surge and harden. In a close fight, that was survival.

  The second file:

  “Feasibility of Miniaturizing Ship-Grade Stinger Electronic Warfare Systems for a Bipedal Chassis.”

  Technology is decades ahead of what he had in the field.

  And every project bore the same name in the “Director” field: Nova.

  Jack stared. Twenty days. Alone, she had drafted a year’s worth of work. For weeks, she hadn’t thought of anything else—Thor, and the fool who piloted it. Him.

  He leaned back, breath catching. He owed her. Not in some shallow game, not as part of another mask. He owed her in ways he couldn’t yet measure.

  Whatever I have left to give, Nova… It’s yours. Not because I tricked you. Not because I won. But because you never stopped choosing me, even when I didn’t deserve it.