Page 26 of Married to the Enemy

Hands on hips, he stared at the cleared patch of floor. Silent approval. Enough. This would do.

Finally, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, the screen casting pale light across the shadows. His thumb hovered over Diane’s number for longer than it should have. He didn’t want to make this call. But there was no putting it off.

He hit dial.

“You’re late,” she muttered as soon as she picked up. No greeting, no warmth. Just Diane.

“It took longer than I anticipated to get everyone settled in,” he said, lowering himself onto one of the dusty boxes. The exhaustion seeped deeper into his bones when he sat, threatening to drag his eyelids shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stay alert. “I mentioned it already, but it’s true. I’m married to Vito Calvino’s daughter.”

The words hung in the air.

Silence followed. He could practically hear the gears grinding in her head, running calculations, rearranging chess pieces on the invisible board of their investigation. His chest tightened as the seconds dragged on. His boss was not a woman easily shocked, but this… this was beyond different.

Finally, Diane exhaled. “What’s your plan?” she asked.

The question was all encompassing. It wasn’t just about Mia. It was about his career, his loyalty, the case, everything.

And Raffe, bone-deep weary, realized he didn’t have an answer yet.

Raffe considered his options. “I’m not sure yet. My priority right now is Freddy. He has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow with the specialist who can fix his legs. If we can get him the surgery, then it’s going to be a long, painful process to get him walking again.”

On the other end of the phone line, Diane exhaled slowly, the kind of sigh that carried more than frustration. It carried understanding.

“You’re right,” she agreed quietly. “Your focus needs to be on Freddy right now.”

There was a silence, and Raffe could almost picture her in her office, elbows braced on the desk, chewing her lip thoughtfully as she weighed her options. She’d always been good at that—taking a beat, considering the person, not just the job.

“How about this,” she continued. “You get him through the surgery, through the first stretch of recovery, and then we’ll talk about next steps. Until then, you keep your focus where it belongs. On Freddy.”

A knot he hadn’t realized was in his chest loosened a little.

“Deal,” he grunted. Then he scratched at his jawline. “I’m gonna shave.”

She laughed, a short, unexpected sound that made his lips twitch despite the weight of the conversation. “Fine. You do that. In the meantime, I’ll shift Mike over to cover surveillance. He’s solid, and he can hold the line until you’re able to come back.” Her voice softened as she continued. “Raffe, don’t worry about the case right now. I’ve seen you grind yourself down before, and that’s not what this situation needs. Freddy needs you at one hundred percent, and honestly, you need this too. Take care of him, and take care of yourself. That’s an order.”

Raffe shut his eyes for a second, absorbing that. Family leave wasn’t a phrase often used in their line of work. The job was usually the only family they were allowed.

“Understood,” he said finally, his voice lower than he intended.

“And listen,” she added, her tone returning to business. “If you get any ideas that might move the investigation forward, call it in. We’ll take whatever you can give. But don’t force it. You’re on family leave until I say otherwise. Clear?”

“Clear.”

“Good. Then get some rest, Moretti. That beard won’t shave itself.”

She ended the call as abruptly as she’d started it.

Raffe chuckled, equal parts relief and amusement. Diane was exactly the kind of boss he needed right now. She’d earned her stripes not just because she was a damn good agent, but because she knew when to push her people and when to pull them back. She treated her team like human beings, not just cogs in a machine. That’s why her agents would follow her anywhere, no questions asked.

Sighing, he pushed himself up off the box and left the little storage room. Just because he was technically on leave didn’t mean he couldn’t do some investigating of his own. Freddy was going to have a lot of appointments, physical therapy, and long stretches of hard, painful effort ahead of him. But there would also be downtime, stretches of napping and healing. Raffe knew from experience—his own high school football injury had taught him how crucial rest was to recovery. That injury had rerouted his whole life, shifting him from chasing football glory to pursuing law enforcement. He had never regretted that choice.

Putting bad guys away was the most satisfying feeling in the world.

Except… it had been a long time since he’d felt that satisfaction. Their investigation into Calvino had slowed. Leads had dried up. Evidence buried itself deeper.

Raffe shook his head. There was nothing more to be done tonight.

Chapter 15