Sinful Lies (Sinful #2)

Chapter 29

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

― DEAN CAVANAGH

“We can depend on nobody in this world, and sometimes we even betray ourselves.”

― Dean Cavanagh

Jade

Disgust exploded inside me, sour and burning, crawling up my throat like bile.

I hated myself. Like, really, seriously hated myself.

I couldn’t even glance at my reflection without wanting to hurl—or better yet, smash the nearest mirror, and pretend I didn’t exist.

I stormed into the Jimmy Choo store like a woman on a mission, my heels clicking loudly enough to warn everyone to get the hell out of my way.

Retail therapy was the goal, but not just any kind of retail therapy.

I needed something expensive. Something with an edge. Something high enough to make me forget how spectacularly I’d just embarrassed myself.

The shoes gleamed under the lights, practically singing my name. One pair, a killer black stiletto with enough sparkle to blind an entire nation, caught my eye.

Perfect.

I could already imagine wearing them to my own funeral—the one I’d arrange after jumping off the thirteenth floor of my apartment. Because clearly, being this dumb wasn’t survivable.

Ugh.

I can’t believe I let a world-class, ego-driven, murderous asshole, overbearing jerk crawl under my skin.

Worse, I had broken my damn promise.

The one I had sworn on my soul, my sanity, and maybe even my favorite pair of heels.

The one that had said, “Jade, don’t let anyone—especially him —mess with your head, and make you lose focus on your revenge.”

And yet, here I was, standing in the wreckage of my own boundaries, feeling equal parts furious and disgusted.

Honestly, someone should slap me.

Or better yet, shove me into traffic, because clearly, I’ve lost all sense of self-preservation.

Just thinking about how I had stripped for him, again —after he had humiliated me at the exhibition, solidifying the horrifying realization that I might actually have a degradation kink—and all he had done was… hold me.

And the bastard hadn’t even tried to take advantage of it!

Then, because I had the self-control of a toddler on a sugar high, I had opened my big, dumb mouth and almost spilled my real secret. My mama ? Seriously? If he started snooping, knowing him, he’d piece together my entire life story before his espresso cooled.

And let’s not forget—I had cried.

In front of him.

After years of swearing to myself that I’d never, ever let it happen again. No tears, no cracks, no giving in to that soul-crushing, gut-twisting feeling. But then he had just… he’d opened the damn floodgates, cracked my heart wide open, and let every single demon crawl out.

I groaned out loud, earning a few glares from the women around me.

Perfect.

Now half of New York thinks I’m unhinged.

The other half probably already knows, anyway.

I hated that his story had stirred something in me—something I thought I’d buried a long time ago. Empathy.

That childish, useless thing I usually didn’t have the time or energy for. But the way he’d said it, the raw edge in his voice, what he had gone through so young… I couldn’t help but picture a little Angelo Lazzio, scared, alone, and enduring a hell no child should ever face.

It had made my stomach twist in ways I despised.

He murdered your sister, Jade!

No empathy for him!

My gaze locked on the pair of black heels adorned with crystals so dazzling they could probably guide ships home. They’d look killer with that black YSL dress Monica Lazzio had gifted me in Aspen.

I was already imagining the heads I’d turn when I started walking toward them, eyes glued—so much so, that I didn’t notice the human roadblock in my path until I had slammed into them, stumbling like a fool.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry—wait… Jade?”

I glanced up, my eyes narrowing.

Long blonde hair, tiny frame, and those icy blue eyes that could probably freeze you in place if you weren’t careful.

Luciana Lazzio.

Lorenzo Lazzio’s wife—Angelo’s uncle’s wife.

The woman he had used to have a fling with.

Of course. Perfect timing.

Here I was, trying to get him out of my head, and now I’m face to face with his ex-mistress. Because why not, right?

“Hey, Luciana,” I said, hoping she’d get the hint that I wasn’t in the mood. “Look, I really have to go?—”

I turned, but she was quicker, her hand catching my arm.

“Wait, Jade,” she said, her voice softer this time. “I’d really like to talk to you. Please, let’s grab some coffee together. Just for a few minutes.”

Her fingers tightened, almost pleading.

“Luciana…” I started, but she cut me off.

“Please, Jade. Just five minutes.”

I hesitated, glancing down at her hand still on my arm.

I didn’t know what to make of this, but something in her voice made it hard to walk away.

“Fine. Just a few minutes,” I muttered.

Guess I can kiss my new Jimmy Choos goodbye.

“I guess we’re not here to critique your taste in shoes… or men,” I said, raising an eyebrow over my coffee cup.

Luciana chuckled softly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

She took a slow sip of her matcha latte, her fingers trembling just a little as she set the cup down. “No, Jade. I… I wanted to apologize,” she said, her voice dropping. “For that night, years ago.”

Ah, that night—the one burned into my brain, where I had walked in on her and Angelo in his office, doing things that didn’t exactly scream “family bonding.”

“Angelo and I… we never…” She exhaled sharply, like she was trying to force the words out. “We were never together. What you saw—” Her gaze darted away. “It was the first, and only time we ever… did that.”

I stayed quiet, letting the coffee warm my hands.

She must’ve sensed my skepticism, because she leaned forward, her voice trembling. “That night, Lorenzo and I had a huge fight about his drinking. He… hit me.”

Her words stopped me cold.

“I panicked. I didn’t know where to go, so I ran to Angelo. His family has always been kind to me, and I thought maybe—” Her voice cracked, and she looked down at her lap. “Maybe he could help me feel safe.”

I stared at her, trying to process the bomb she had just dropped.

For someone I’d mentally labeled as a snake, she suddenly looked… human.

And I hated it.

“I’m the one who seduced him,” she said, her voice shaking just enough to make me pause mid-sip of my mocha latte. “I stormed into his office, a complete mess. He was kind, promised me he’d make Lorenzo pay. You know how the Lazzios are about family; they don’t tolerate that kind of thing. Angelo was furious that his uncle had laid a hand on me.”

I held my cup a little tighter, my silence urging her to keep going.

“I don’t know what came over me,” she whispered, her gaze dropping. “I kissed him. He tried to push me away, but I think… I think he could feel how much I needed someone. Just someone to make me feel like I wasn’t falling apart. He let it happen. And then…” She hesitated, her eyes lifting to meet mine.

“And then I walked in,” I finished softly.

She nodded. “It wasn’t what you think, Jade. It wasn’t an affair. It wasn’t love. It was… a desperate, stupid moment. And I’m so sorry you had to see it.”

“Luciana, why are you telling me this?” I asked. “I mean, I have no interest—or care, for that matter—about what Angelo does, or who he does.” A sharp, annoying twinge in my chest begged to differ, but I shoved it down where it belonged. “So… why now?”

She sighed, her perfectly manicured nails drumming against her cup. “Because I’m leaving, Jade. I’m running away.”

What?

She continued, her voice softer now. “Angelo’s organized everything. A new home, a new name… even a job. Far, far away from all of this.” Her lips curved into a faint, almost wistful smile. “You’re never going to see me again. But before I go, I needed to make amends—and ask you for a favor.”

I tilted my head. “A favor? From me?”

“I know I’m not in a position to ask, but… please, Jade. Take care of him. I know you argue like cats and dogs, but anyone can see how smitten he is with you. The way he looks at you, it’s not just lust. It’s something deeper. And you?—”

“Luciana,” I interrupted, holding up a hand.

But she pressed on. “He doesn’t deserve to suffer any more, Jade. He’s suffered enough for ten lifetimes.”

With that, she stood up, her hand brushing my shoulder in what I assume was meant to be a comforting gesture.

“Goodbye, Jade,” she murmured before walking away, her heels clicking against the tile as she disappeared through the café door.

And in that moment, I knew—really knew—I’d never see her again.

I realized she’d done the impossible: she’d cranked up the guilt I’d been trying to suffocate all morning into a full-blown, suffocating bubble.

Thanks a lot, Luciana. You’ve really outdone yourself.

How the hell am I supposed to kill him now?