Chapter 2 - The Video That Blew Up BostonThe digital world does not care about private vows, courthouse marriages at dawn, or the quiet weight of a secret kept to protect an unborn child.
Within thirty minutes of Kyle Mercer storming out of Bellamy’s Cafe, the twenty-second clip of Matteo Duca claiming Sophie as his wife was viewed over two million times. By the time Sophie and Matteo stepped into the bullet-resistant black Mercedes idling outside, her phone was vibrating so violently against her thigh it felt like a trapped insect.
"Don't look at it," Matteo said, his voice flat, his gaze fixed on the tinted window as the city blur-passed them in a rainy haze.
"I have to," Sophie whispered, staring down at the screen. The comments were a wildfire of speculation, judgment, and raw fear:
Is that Matteo Duca? The real one? Not a body double?
Look at the waitress's face, she looks terrified. The mob got her.
Wait, isn't that Kyle Mercer's ex? Kyle's family is going to war over this.
Check out the red mark on her wrist. The boss didn't like that one bit.
"They don't know anything," Sophie said, her throat tightening. "Kyle posted that angle. He edited it to make it look like... like I'm a hostage."
Matteo finally turned his head, his dark eyes searching hers. The harsh neon lights of the Boston Expressway flickered across his sharp cheekbones. "You are not a hostage, Sophie. But you are the center of a storm now. And the Orpheum Theater text wasn't a bluff."
Sophie looked down at the threatening message glowing on the phone: Bring the wife to the old Orpheum Theater tonight—or we tell Boston whose baby she is.
A cold shiver raced down her spine. The baby. If Kyle’s powerful, vindictive family found out the truth—that the child she carried was not just any child, but the biological continuation of a bloodline meant to destroy the Duca empire from within—they would tear her apart limb from limb.
"It's a trap," Sophie said, her hands trembling over her seven-month belly. "If we go, they'll use the child against you. If we don't go, the secret gets out and they'll destroy us both."
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Matteo reached out, his warm, calloused fingers wrapping firmly around her trembling hand. There was no hesitation in his touch.
"Let them try," Matteo said, his voice dropping into a register so dark and lethal it made the driver glance nervously in the rearview mirror. "Tonight, the city of Boston is going to find out what happens when someone touches what belongs to a Duca."
