Page 171 of Jude

I smiled at the delight in his rasp.

He started pacing the room, mapping out the placement of his guitar racks, tracking monitors, and amps, consumed by the blueprint taking shape in his mind.

I stood back, affection washing over me as his creative drive sparked off.

While he ran the numbers and calculated the square footage for his music sanctuary, I left him and drifted up to the upper levels.

I used my notes app to write down my vision for sheer white curtains by the iron windows. Plus a cream-and-warm-earth-tone palette for the living areas.

As well as plush, textured rugs to soften the wide-plank floors.

We stood on the back deck later, our hands locking together as we stared out over the valley.

‘This will be our forever home,’ I said, arms around each other, eyes locked on the view.

‘Can’t wait to do the rest of life with you here, babe,’ he whispered as he leaned his head to kiss me. This is it, this is us.’

We put a deposit down that very afternoon.

Later, back in our Belle Meade mansion, the bedside lamp cast a glow across the linen sheets as I rested my head on Jude’s chest.

We’d just made the most earth-shattering love, and I turned my head to press my lips to the skin of his nape, my body still shuddering.

His sinewed hand moved in slow circles on my bare shoulder, his fingers hot on my skin.

‘You never really talk about Italy and your past life as an actress babe,’ Jude murmured, his jaw brushing my hair. ‘Why?’

I shifted, propping my chin on his ribs to see his face.

‘I didn’t think you cared at first, mio bellissimo. I was also shy to tell you, because my career ended in a fizzle. I only started acting to pay off my university fees, but the whole thing took off before it died a spectacular death.’

Jude arched an eyebrow, a smirk cutting through his stubble.

‘Give me the stats, wife. Were you Italy-famous, or just Naples-famous?’

‘I was a household name in the country for five years,’ I confessed. ‘I starred in the hottest shows at the time. I was in ads, I modeled on runways, and magazines put me on their most beautiful lists.’

He let out a whistle, his grip tightening around my waist.

‘I read about it. So I married a literal superstar queen. Why did you walk away from all that cash and glory?’

The ghost of my old fears tightened my throat.

‘Because the glitz was fake, and the danger was real. The mafioso demanded protection money from the actors. Eventually, they bought the studios and tried to use us as cash cows.’

I took a breath, lost in memories of the past.

‘Plus, the grueling sixteen-hour workdays and unhealthy industry expectations drained my soul. I lived in constant dread under the public eye. Worse, my management agency, Talento Italiano, cut and ran, leaving me broke and owed millions in pay.’

Jude nodded, his eyes darkening as he processed my words.

‘I understand, babe. Fame is a toxic dumpster fire if you don’t build high walls around your life. You know that all of us in the band have experienced grief, drugs, alcohol, addiction, homelessness, and depression. We know the cost of what the dark side looks like.’

‘Where did you meet, honey?’

‘It was years ago in the SAS, Australia’s hard-core military service, in the army music corps. We served together, then went our separate ways. For two to three years, we all made a mess of it; I got caught up in narcotics, dealing cards, losing money, and gambling my life away. My wild living got me a stint in jail, where I cleaned up my act. Thank heavens I walked out of lock-up alive. Somehow we drifted back together and tried to make it as a band; and at first it was hard as hell. Still, we made it, and we’re now freakin’ united in our cause because we all understand the price it took to get us here.’

‘Is that why the Six Sinners are so locked down?’ I asked.