Page 63 of Nobody's Girl

Outside the paparazzo was nowhere to be found. “Fuck!” What the hell had just happened?

Ivo stalked back into the kitchen to see Madison Flynn dressed, her blue eyes huge with fright.

“Was this you? Did you pay him to take that photograph of us?”

Madison shook her head. “No, I swear…look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s just…you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen and…god…look. I’ll go. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.”

She slipped out of the kitchen and Ivo heard the front door close. He rubbed his eyes. Jesus, this was the last thing he needed. What the hell was that all about? And how the fuck did the paparazzo get past his security team? Ivo felt the anger drain out of him and he sat down on the cool tile of the kitchen floor. What a fucking mess. It was too late to call Sofia now but he would do first thing in the morning. If that photograph ended up in the press… It was okay, Sofia knew him in her bones. She knew he would never, ever cheat on her, least of all with a random woman at his own mother’s funeral. Sofia would know that…

…right?

In the cab driving back into the city from the Hollywood Hills, Madison Flynn a.k.a. Tamara Rutland grinned to herself. She had to give it to Sofia – Ivo Zacca was gorgeous. Pity she couldn’t persuade him to fuck her – clearly, he wasn’t much like his father, who, the word was, was a man whore of biblical proportions. Still, she got what she had wanted. The dude she had hired to take the picture had sent it to her phone the second after he’d taken it. He’d paid off the security guard at the property a day ahead of the wake. People were so easily bought these days.

Tamara grinned as she imagined Sofia’s reaction to the photograph. Anger, heartbreak, pain. Betrayal. The paparazzo would be sending it to TMZ or Radar online, maybe even the Enquirer. Even in Paris, they would see it. Tamara hoped more than anything that Sofia would feel humiliated. If she split from Zacca and his protection, it would make it so much easier for Grant to snatch her, bring her back to the States, to their killing club. She might even fall for Grant which would make it so much more satisfying to watch Grant kill her, see the hurt, confusion in her eyes as she died.

Delicious. She looked at the photograph again. Damn, Ivo Zacca…maybe I’ll try again before I leave Los Angeles. I would love to know what Sofia is getting from you.

She smiled. Yes, that would be the final revenge – fucking Sofia’s husband and telling her about it as Grant Christo gutted Sofia slowly and mercilessly.

Tamara could hardly wait.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sofia hugged Jonas hard before he got into the taxi. It had been such a wonderful few days with him that she was reluctant to let him but finally she released him. Jonas grinned down at her. “Love you, Sis. Promise me you and Ivo will come visit me in New York. I know you hate it but…”

“No. With you there, of course we’ll come. I’m just so happy were back in each other’s lives, Jon. You are my family.”

“And you are mine, the only one I care about. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Sofia felt a little tearful as she waved him goodbye. Inside, she called Desiree. “I’m on my way, Desi.”

“Actually, no, don’t come to gallery. We’ve had a flood in the basement – nothing’s been damaged but the less people getting in the way of the workmen, the better. Sorry, kiddo.”

“No, that’s okay. Listen, my phone needs charging so I may be out of service in a bit.”

“I’ll use the hotel’s landline if I need you, bub. Enjoy the time off.”

Sofia was digging around for a phone charger when her cellphone rang again. It was Clemence. “Are you busy, ma chere? Mirry has deserted me to go on a field trip and I’m bored out of my mind. I’m sitting here like a beached whale.” She sounded so miserable that Sofia felt sorry for her.

“Of course, I’ll come. Shall I bring pastries?”

Clemence gave a groan of delight. “Oh yes please…and strong coffee. Very strong. One won’t hurt me or the baby.”

Sofia chuckled. “You got it. Give me a half hour.”

It wasn’t until she was at Clemence’s door that she remembered she’d left her cellphone charging at the hotel. She knocked at Clemence’s door.

“Sofia? It’s open…ahh…”

Frowning, Sofia pushed her way in to see Clemence bending over the back of a chair, groaning. Sofia put the coffee and bag of pastries down and rushed to her friend. “Clem, what is it?”