Chapter 71

Chapter 71
Sophia's POV
The elevator doors closed with a soft sound. I was finally alone, away from tonight's disaster. My reflection stared back at me from the steel walls. I still looked like Isabella, still lived her lie, but I felt completely exhausted.
God, that was close. Too close.
I leaned against the elevator wall. For just a moment, I could let my guard down before facing Vito again. The memory of standing frozen on that stage made my stomach turn. Maria's question had hung in the air like a knife ready to cut me down.
"What period is this piece from, Mrs. Romano?"
Such a simple question. Any art student could have answered it easily. But I stood there like a deer in headlights, seconds away from exposing myself in front of everyone.
The elevator reached our floor. I straightened up and put on my mask of composure again. Vito was waiting in the hallway near our suite. Even in the dim lighting, I could see the worry on his face.
"Are you alright, tesoro?" His voice was gentle, but I heard the tension underneath. "You seemed upset during the auction."
"I'm fine," I managed, forcing a smile. "Just tired. It was a long evening."
"You did well tonight," he said, reaching for my hand as I opened our door.
The guilt hit me hard. He thinks he's complimenting me, but I almost destroyed everything.
"I should have known the answer," I whispered.
"Knowledge comes and goes, amore. What matters is staying calm under pressure. And you handled yourself perfectly."
Inside our suite, I went through my normal routine. I hung up my coat, removed my jewelry, and tried to pretend my hands weren't still shaking. Vito went to his study to handle business, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I changed into comfortable pajamas, but even the soft fabric felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. This room, this life, this name I was wearing like a costume that didn't fit.
How long can I keep this up?
The question had been bothering me for weeks, but tonight it felt urgent. Every social event was dangerous. Every conversation could lead to disaster. And Vito kept protecting someone he thought was his wife, not knowing he was defending a fake.
I sat on our bed and finally let the guilt crash over me. The way he'd smoothly saved me tonight, giving me space to recover. The pride in his voice when he talked about my "composure."
He deserves so much better than this lie.
My phone buzzed. David's name appeared on the screen. I felt relief and anxiety at the same time. He was the only person who knew the truth about my situation. The only person I could talk to without pretending.
David: "Hey, just finished surgery. How did the auction prep go? Ready for tomorrow?"
I stared at the message. He had no idea the event had already happened and that I'd nearly blown everything.
Me: "It's over. And it was complicated."
David: "What happened? Are you okay?"
His concern, even through text, made my chest tight. I could picture him in his scrubs, probably exhausted from surgery, still taking time to check on me. David had been my anchor for five years, through medical school, family crises, and now this impossible situation.
Me: "Can you call? I need to talk to someone who actually knows who I am."
The phone rang within seconds.
"Sophia?" David's voice was warm and familiar. "Talk to me. What happened at the auction?"
And just like that, everything came pouring out. All the fear and guilt and stress of living this lie.
"I almost blew it, David. Completely blew it." I kept my voice low, knowing Vito was somewhere in the suite. "This woman, Maria, she asked me art questions and I just froze. I stood there in front of hundreds of people looking like an idiot because I don't know anything about art history."
"Slow down," David said gently. "Start from the beginning. What exactly happened?"
I told him everything. How Maria had cornered me, the impossible question about art periods, the endless seconds of silence as I stood there blank. And then Vito's intervention, smooth and protective, saving me from complete embarrassment.
"He saved me, David. Again. And he doesn't even know he's protecting a fraud."
"You're not a fraud, Sophia."
"Yes, I am!" The words came out louder than I meant. I had to pause and listen for any sound from Vito's study. "I'm living someone else's life, using someone else's name, sleeping in someone else's bed. Tonight proved I can't keep this up forever. One day I'm going to slip up in a way that can't be fixed, and when I do, I won't be the only one who pays."
"What do you mean?"
I pressed my hand against my eyes, feeling exhausted from months of constant worry. "Vito put his reputation on the line for me tonight. In his world, appearance is everything, and he defended someone he thinks is his educated, sophisticated wife. What happens when everyone finds out she's actually just a medical student who can't tell one painting from another?"
David was quiet for a long time.
"David?"
"I'm here," he said finally. "I'm just processing. Sophia, are you thinking about telling him the truth?"
Am I? The thought had been growing stronger with each close call, each moment when Vito's kindness made my lies feel unbearable.
"I don't know," I whispered. "Maybe. I just can't keep putting him in situations where he has to defend me without knowing what he's actually defending."
"That's dangerous, Sophia. We're talking about a man who built his world on control and information. Finding out his wife has been lying about her identity since day one... that's not going to go well."
I knew David was right. The rational part of my brain understood how catastrophic such a revelation could be. But the guilt was eating me alive, especially after tonight.
"So what's the alternative?" I asked. "Keep living this lie until something worse happens? Keep letting him think he's married to someone who doesn't exist?"
"I don't know," David admitted. "But I know you need to be careful about making decisions when you're emotional. This isn't just about you anymore. Alfonso's medical care, your father's debts, Vito's position in his organization. There are a lot of pieces here."
"You're right," I said, my voice hollow. "I know you're right. It's just..."
"It's just that you're a good person stuck in an impossible situation," David finished gently. "And good people aren't supposed to be comfortable with lies, even when they're necessary."
Tears I'd been holding back all evening finally came. "I hate this, David. I hate lying to him, I hate pretending to be someone I'm not, and I really hate that part of me is starting to care about him. How messed up is that?"
"It's not messed up at all. It's human." His voice was understanding. "Vito Romano might be dangerous, but from what you've told me, he's been nothing but protective and kind to you. It makes sense that you'd develop feelings for someone who treats you well."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"For now? Nothing dramatic. You survived tonight, and that's what matters. But Sophia..." He paused. "You need to start thinking long term. This situation can't continue forever. Either you find a way to become more comfortable with the lie, or you start planning how to tell the truth carefully. But whatever you decide, don't make the choice when you're emotional."
I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. David was right, as always. Tonight had been too emotional for life-changing decisions. But the problem remained: I couldn't keep living as Isabella Cohen forever.
"Okay," I whispered. "I'll think about it. Really think about it."
"Good. And Sophia? Don't let guilt destroy something that might actually be good for you. Yes, you're living a lie, but the feelings you're developing are real. The way he treats you is real. Maybe there's a version of this story that doesn't end badly."
After we hung up, I sat in the quiet luxury of the Romano suite, processing everything David had said. He was trying to give me hope, suggesting that maybe there was a path forward that didn't involve losing everything. But could there really be?
Could I find a way to tell Vito the truth without destroying everything?