Page 125 of Jude

‘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.