Chapter 24
JUDE
Breathing felt like pulling jagged glass through my lungs.
I needed air before I went upstairs and blew the entire floor apart with my fury, so I bypassed the elevators and strode straight out onto the stone terrace off the reception.
The midnight breeze did nothing to cool the magma in my veins as I pulled my phone from my leather jacket.
First, I did an internet search, and in moments I was staring at the image of my wife and her accolades all over Italian media sites.
Confirming what Ignazio shared, Sofia was a former star, once widely recognized for her formidable presence in both Italian television and modeling.
Noticed by acting scouts for the first time in her first semester at university, she went on to be chosen as the ‘Face of the Year’ in Italian entertainment at 18.
She acted and modeled for five to six years before disappearing from the public eye.
Is this when she moved into the stripping scene?
My mind whirled.
Perhaps even tricking for money? For the mafia?
The pain that lanced me at the the thought almost made me gasp out loud.
I needed counsel, and without hesitating, I punched the speed dial for my dad.
‘Judah,’ Kian answered on the second ring, his deep, familiar voice filling the line with a calm cadence. ‘How’s it going in Rome, son?’
‘We’ve got a situation,’ I growled, leaning on the iron railing.
‘You remember me telling you about my cell mate Ignazio? He just cornered me right here in the lobby of my hotel. He’s got photo evidence from Milan.
It turns out Sofia’s electronics factory story was a complete fabrication.
She was working the neon runway in Milan. ’
Kian whistled under his breath. ‘The hell?’
I went on to tell him about the photos, Sofia’s past, and the secrets she had hidden from me.
‘Ignazio’s demanding five million to keep the shots away from the media. He’s blackmailing me to fund Dario and Luisa’s legal defense and/or get the authorities to release them from jail. Otherwise the prints get plastered all over the press,’ I ended.
The line went quiet for a long moment, the distance across the ocean humming through the receiver before my dad let out a slow sigh.
‘Ignazio?’ Dad asked, his voice deepening. ‘Your old cellmate from state pen?’
‘Yeah, the same bloke,’ I ground out, as my utter shock gave way to my anger.
‘Dario must have twisted his hand, because his betrayal makes zero sense, Dad. We spent four months sharing an eight-by-ten box. The guy was my fitness buddy; we repped out thousands of burpees and push-ups together in the yard. When I got my walking papers, he was happy for me, at least that’s what I thought.
I’m floored that he’d flip on me like this.
I want to tear him apart, and as for Sofia -. ’
‘Son, take a deep breath. Jealousy is pretty big motivator. Ignazio saw your life and probably hated on it despite your connection. As for Dario and the blackmail, it’s a reach. Don’t let your frustration override your wisdom,’ Kian replied, his voice softening into a steady, fatherly reassurance.
‘Fuck.’
The despair in my growl reverberated down the line.
‘I know where your mind goes when you feel cornered, son, but you can’t be too hasty with your wife.
Don’t go charging up to her, treating her like she’s guilty yet.
Men in Dario and Ignazio’s position get desperate, and things are rarely what they seem on the surface, especially when extortionists are involved. ’
Kian’s wise words went over me, disappointment and anger raging through my veins, making it impossible to grasp the meaning of his words.
The betrayal from both Ignazio and Sofia burned in my gut, choking out every ounce of logic.
‘The face is exact; it is her. She lied straight to my teeth,’ I gritted, trembling with fury. ‘There’s no way it’s someone else. I’m handling it.’
‘Judah, listen to me -,’ Kian began, his tone shifting into an urgent plea.
With a growl, I pressed the end-call icon, cutting him off in the middle of the sentence, and shoved the device back into my pocket.
All this time, Sofia had been playing me for a fool, twisting me around her finger while I took the bait like an amateur.
I stood on the shadowed terrace, fury burning through my veins as I stared unthinkingly at the blood-red glow of Rome’s skyline, sickened by my own weakness.
I had let my guard down and let her in.
I dragged air into my lungs, my jaw set, ready to tear into the woman who used calculated lies to claw her way right into my soul and wreck me from the inside out.
SOFIA
The lively chatter of the band and crew echoed off the glass walls of the rooftop restaurant.
At its center, a wooden banquet table groaned under platters of truffle gnocchi and baked sea bass.
Mason was in the middle of delivering another punchline to a story that had Nari doubling over with laughter.
Then the doors swung open.
I sliced my eyes to them as Jude strode into the room, his grave face cold and enraged.
A white-hot intensity rolled off his rugged frame, and my heart dropped into my stomach.
He clenched his jaw, his eyes wild with a savage fury.
‘Hey, man,’ Deacon called out.
Jude ignored him, marching to my chair, his muscled hand gripping my elbow with a firm pressure that forced me to my feet.
‘What are you doing?’ I whispered as all eyes fell on us.
‘We need to speak right now, Sofia,’ he muttered in a gravelly, dangerous rasp. ‘Privately.’
‘What’s wrong?’
I got no answer as he almost dragged me across the crowded dining room, navigating past the curious stares of his bandmates and crew until we reached a secluded alcove.
He let go of my arm and gestured at a lounge chair.
His chest was heaving beneath his leather jacket as he pulled a crumpled manila envelope from his pocket and threw it on the coffee table.
I sat down, my heart racing as three glossy photographs slid from the paper sleeve, across the stainless-steel surface, and came to rest in front of my hands.
I blinked down at the prints and gasped.
The images showed my face grafted onto the body of a woman.
One wearing next to nothing, posing under purple neon stage lights in a stark nightclub setting.
It was a seamless digital manipulation that matched my features, making my head spin.
‘Is this you?’ Jude snarled.
His face was twisted, glinting with rage so savage that it jolted me.
‘You told me you worked in factories. Were you dancing and stripping in Milan, instead? Answer me, Sofia.’
‘I’ve never stripped a single day in my life, Jude,’ I said, forcing the words past the lump of horror rising in my throat. ‘I’ve never worked in any clubs in Milan. This is fake. Someone created this to ruin me.’
‘Don’t give me that garbage!’ he growled. ‘Look at the alignment of the jaw, Sofia. Look at the scar on your collarbone. Are you telling me some random hacker spent hours replicating the exact dimensions of your body to play a joke on us? It’s you. It IS you.’
‘It’s not me!’ I hissed, the injustice of his accusation breaking through my initial shock, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.
‘Aren’t you Sofia Antonelli? Actress in several hit soap operas, including,’ he checked his phone for a beat, ‘La Tempesta dell’Amore and I Segreti del Mercato?’
My heart lurched.
Damn. He found out about my past without me telling him, which only made the fake photos seem more authentic.
‘Are you the star of Le Carte del Destino, Cuori d’Acciaio, Vite d’Oro?’ he ground on. ‘Was that you in Vanity Fair Italia’s 50 Most Beautiful list six years ago?’
We stared at each other until I took a deep breath and nodded.
‘The acting and modeling are true,’ I whispered. ‘But that was my previous life. I escaped it all because of the mafia involvement in the studios, and I’ll never go back.’
He huffed in disbelief.
‘I’m meant to believe you were concealing your former career and weren’t hiding those images too?’
I was hit with a sudden thought. ‘Who gave them to you?’
Jude scoffed.
‘An old mate from my jail days, says Dario, and your pal Luisa took the shots when you and her were stripping together.’
The Compagni famiglia, my ongoing nightmare. Damn them.
‘How can you trust mobster scum over me, Jude? You’re my husband. You’re supposed to know my heart. How can you look at a piece of paper handed to you by some crim and decide that everything I’ve ever told you is a lie?’
‘Because associates from my past don’t fly across the Atlantic Ocean and hunt me down in a Roman hotel lobby just to hand over a creative art project!’
Jude stepped closer, his face darkening as he pointed a ringed finger at the prints.
‘Ignazio was my cellmate. He might hang out with the lowdown and dirty, but he also knows not to play me, and he brought me the receipts. You played me, Sofia. You sat in my house, eating my food, letting my lawyers spend thousands of dollars to protect you. All the while hiding a secret that could tank everything I’ve built. ’
I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound.
‘Is that what this is about? You’re not worried about the truth, Judah. You’re worried about your image. You’re anxious about what the industry will say if they find out your wife has a history. You think you’re this protector alpha male, but you’re gutless to believe a blackmailer over me!’
‘You don’t get to call me gutless!’ he gritted, his teeth bared as he leaned down till our noses were inches apart. ‘I risked my fuckin’ career for you. I gave you safety, and you repaid me by almost turning my life into a total circus!’
‘I didn’t turn your life into anything!’ I whispered, the tears burning behind my eyes, though I refused to let them fall. ‘I worked twelve-hour shifts just to survive a brutal reality that you will never understand. I never, ever stripped. If I did, so what? Is that what you’re ashamed of?’
He sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.
‘To be clear, I don’t judge what people do to endure; this isn’t about shame, Sofia. It’s about lying and leaving me open to be blackmailed.’
‘If you had even a single shred of actual care in your heart, you’d work with me to find out who did this. Not drag me into a corner to interrogate me like you’ve decided my fate!’
‘I’m no fool, Sofia but you’ve made me feel like one!
’ Jude barked, his tone dropping into one of such freezing contempt that it slammed the door on any remaining hope.
‘I went against my own instincts to pull you out of danger; I gave you my protection. I tried to lend a hand, and all you did was lie, and make a fool out of me.’
The scorn of his words hit me like a gut punch to the sternum as realization washed over me with an icy clarity: he didn’t believe me.
He didn’t trust my word, my character, or a single word I said to him.
The shock and humiliation were so immense that my brain disconnected, my mind shifting into a numbed, disassociated calm where his insults wouldn’t sting anymore.
At the same time, the truth crystallized for me; I was never his actual wife.
I was a pathetic charity case, a broken rescue mission he begrudged to satisfy his own ego.
To be discarded at his whim the second things became inconvenient or messy.
All my fear and terror coalesced as I stared at the stubborn rage burning in his eyes.
Instead of crumbling into a sobbing heap, I forced a slow, shuddering breath into my lungs.
I ran my hands over my face, drawing up strength and dignity.
‘I think I should leave now,’ I murmured, dying on the inside.
‘Damn straight,’ my husband growled, surging to his feet.
He strode back out into the dining room, leaving me behind, to join his bandmates.
I waited a few seconds, gathering my shit together, then stepped out of the alcove.
Heading to the dining area, I picked up my bag and gave the other Six Sinners a tight smile.
‘Leaving so soon?’ Reign called out, concern dancing in his eyes.
‘I’m not doing so well,’ I muttered. ‘Have a good evening.’
It’s all I could muster as I turned away, my heart splintering over and over.
The agony was made that much more painful by the fact that Jude sat at the table, arms crossed, eyes canted from me, jaw gritted.
I walked through the center of the rooftop restaurant with my spine stiff, and my chin held high, ignoring the sudden hush that fell over the Six Sinners’ family.
The humiliation of his public rejection also hit hard, especially because it was in front of his friends.
I refused to shed a single tear in front of him or anyone else, maintaining a calm mask until the elevator doors slid shut between us.