10. Chapter 10
“He’s not following us anymore,” Mia announced, her voice carrying both relief and disappointment as she handed the box of chicken to her nonna.
“Follow him,” Evangeline ordered immediately, hugging the food close like a treasure.
The heat seeped through the cardboard, warming her thin body.
“After what you’ve told me about him, whatever’s going on in that man’s life, you need to know his secrets.
” She lifted the lid and plucked out a crispy drumstick, her eyes glinting as she added with a snort, “We learned that the hard way, didn’t we? ”
Mia pressed a finger to her lips, torn between common sense and the instinct drilled into her since birth.
She should let Raffe go. He was a stranger.
Granted, he was a stranger that she’d married.
A stranger who clearly wasn’t the destitute wreck she’d thought he was.
As Raffe’s rusted old truck growled out of the parking lot and back onto the road, Mia’s hesitation evaporated.
Her nonna was right.
She had to know.
He wasn’t a homeless man—not with that posture, and definitely not with that confidence in his stride.
He was too tall, too strong, too… commanding.
And she couldn’t live with more lies. Her whole life had been filled with secrets—her father’s, her family’s, even her own.
Not this time. If she needed to annul the marriage, she’d do it.
Then she’d get her grandmother on the next plane to Europe, and they’d disappear so her father and the corrupt courts could never find them.
“You’re right,” Mia said at last, determination filling her voice. She shifted into gear and eased into traffic, far more carefully than her “husband” had.
They’d noticed him following her before—his truck creeping behind her sedan almost as soon as she’d left the courthouse. She’d felt the weight of his eyes, even through the windshield. But now he’d changed direction, circling back. And that sudden turn…
“Why is he heading back toward the courthouse?” Mia murmured, narrowing her eyes as she watched the pickup merge into the turn lane.
Beside her, Evangeline tore into another piece of chicken, grease slicking her too-thin fingers.
She dabbed delicately at her mouth with a napkin, looking more alive than she had in weeks.
“Dunno,” she said, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of the chase.
“But let’s find out.” She leaned toward her granddaughter, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“You married the man this morning, and now he’s heading back into the heart of the city again?
Secrets, mia cara. Men always have them. Better we learn them first.”
Apparently, fried chicken wasn’t the only thing that brought her grandmother back to life—mischief did too.
Mia couldn’t help but grin as her nonna’s old spark returned.
They trailed him back into the city, watching as his truck swung into the courthouse lot again. When Mia parked, Evangeline was already muttering under her breath, swinging her legs toward the door. “Get me that damn wheelchair.”
“Nonna, you—”
“I don’t really need it,” Evangeline interrupted with a mischievous glint. “But I can’t walk fast enough to catch up with him, and I’m not gonna miss this. Besides”—she grinned wickedly—“it will get us through security faster. No one argues with an old lady in a wheelchair.”
Mia burst out laughing, delighted by her grandmother’s cunning. She hauled the heavy wheelchair out of the trunk, folding it open with practiced efficiency. Evangeline lowered herself into it like a queen taking her throne.
Then they were off. Mia nearly jogged, pushing her grandmother across the lot, weaving between cars to keep Raffe in sight.
They caught him just as he got caught stuck in the courthouse security line, cell phone pressed to his ear, his voice low and intense. Thankfully, he hadn’t noticed them. Perfect.
Mia slowed, hanging back just long enough for him to pass through. Then, just as Evangeline predicted, the guards spotted them. One waved them through immediately, his grin widening as he glanced flirtatiously at Mia, then winked playfully at her grandmother.
Evangeline batted her lashes shamelessly, eating it up.
The guard chuckled, barely glancing at their bags before waving them past.
Once they were through security, Mia pushed her nonna down the hallway, trying to catch up. “Hurry, dear,” Evangeline whispered, leaning forward with the kind of focus Mia hadn’t seen since she was plotting against her father years ago. “He turned left down that hallway.”
Mia’s pulse jumped with excitement and the thrill of a mystery to solve. They weren’t the ones being followed anymore.
Now, they were the hunters.
Her pounding heart had nothing to do with the possibility of seeing Raffe again. Nothing at all.
“That’s family court,” Mia whispered, bending low over Evangeline’s shoulder so no one else would overhear.
Evangeline sniffed. “Figures. A man doesn’t sneak back here unless he’s hiding something juicy.” She tucked a napkin more securely around her chicken box like she was smuggling state secrets. “Come on, mia cara, let’s see what your mysterious husband is up to.”
He went into one of the courtrooms, and they slipped silently in after him, taking two seats in the back like seasoned spies.
Evangeline settled herself with an exaggerated huff, then leaned conspiratorially toward Mia.
“Don’t slouch. If we’re going to snoop, we may as well look dignified doing it. ”
What happened next shocked both women.
“Your Honor, Mr. Moretti has filed an emergency request to take over foster care of the juvenile, effective immediately.”
Mia’s mouth dropped open. Mr. Moretti as a foster parent? Her brain scrambled.
The judge sighed, sliding her glasses down her nose. “Why would Mr. Moretti want to take charge of this child? He has significant medical needs and has recently been accused of theft.”
“Mr. Moretti is aware of the boy’s medical needs and is prepared to support him,” Jenny, the social worker, answered steadily. “He has a full-time job and excellent health insurance. The boy’s mother has passed away. Mr. Moretti has also requested that adoption procedures start immediately.”
A woman sitting to the side stiffened, her face pinched and furious. She didn’t speak, but her skinny, disheveled husband elbowed her hard, whispering frantically. The angry woman gestured wildly in return, muttering under her breath.
“Both parents are gone?” the judge asked, her voice softening.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Jenny replied respectfully. “The father disappeared as soon as he heard about the pregnancy and hasn’t been heard from since. The mother passed away in the same accident that left Frederick in the wheelchair.”
Mia felt her chest squeeze painfully. She only then noticed the boy—ten years old, slouched in a wheelchair at the far end of the courtroom.
His eyes were dulled with resignation, but every so often he darted a glance toward Raffe.
Not resentful. Not afraid. Hopeful. Like Raffe was the only person in the room who mattered.
Mia’s heart stuttered. Definitely not a homeless man. So, who was this mysterious stranger she had married? What kind of job came with excellent health insurance and a courtroom presence like that?
The skinny man suddenly leapt to his feet. “Permission to speak, Your Honor?”
The judge’s brows rose. “Please introduce yourself.”
“Jim Fuller,” he said, puffing his chest as if his name meant something. He jabbed a bony finger at Raffe. “This man lives in a one-bedroom apartment in a garden complex. The kid’s in a wheelchair, Your Honor. The state generously paid to retrofit our home with access. You can’t expect—”
Jenny cut in, her voice firm. “Mr. Moretti clearly has the physical stamina to carry Frederick upstairs if needed. And I’d like to remind the court that a supportive parent is more important than square footage.”
The judge adjusted her glasses again, her gaze moving first to the Fullers, then to Raffe. Then her eyes lingered. Mia swallowed a chuckle when she realized the judge was giving her husband an up-and-down inspection worthy of a meat market.
“I can see for myself that Mr. Moretti has the physical…” she paused deliberately, “…assets to assist the child. But the housing issue remains. Mr. Moretti, you don’t have a private bedroom for the boy, do you?”
“Not yet, Your Honor.” Raffe dipped his head slightly , his voice low, promising. “I’ll—”
Mia’s eyes returned to the boy. The slump of his shoulders, the way he shrank at the mention of yet another obstacle, another excuse—something inside her cracked.
Before she could stop herself, she was on her feet. “Yes, he does, Your Honor!”
Every head in the courtroom swung her way.
Mia’s pulse thundered. Impetuous didn’t even begin to cover this. Offering her home, her life, to a boy she’d just met and a man she didn’t understand, a man who could be hiding dangerous secrets? Yes, this easily topped the list of reckless decisions.
She glanced down at Nonna for support. Instead of scolding, Evangeline smirked, wiping chicken grease daintily off her fingers and whispering softly, “About damn time you did something entertaining.” Then she chose another piece of fried chicken from the box.
The silence stretched. Mia felt the weight of it as she locked eyes with her new husband. Those impossibly clear blue eyes seemed to ask, Are you serious?
“And who are you?” the judge demanded, exasperation sharpening her tone.
“I’m Mr. Moretti’s wife,” Mia said, her voice barely cracking on that last word. She forced her chin up, though her heart was pounding hard enough to rattle her ribs. “And I have more than enough room in my home to accommodate the boy.”
Her eyes drifted to the child. Freddy. He was trying not to look at anyone, his dark hair falling over his face like a shield. Still, he couldn’t help it. He peeked sideways at Raffe, as if silently asking him what to do.
But Raffe wasn’t looking at Freddy. He was staring at her, jaw tight, blue eyes blazing with something that made her knees wobble. Shock? Fury? Maybe both.
Mia’s pulse skittered. She knew she’d stepped right into the middle of something she didn’t understand, but there was no turning back now. The boy couldn’t go back to those horrible, sneering people across the courtroom. Their glares stabbed at her like knives, but she held her ground.
“What’s your address, Ms. Moretti?” the judge asked, her tone cautious but curious.
Mia patted her nonna’s shoulder, a silent squeeze of reassurance, before stepping forward.
She stopped when she was beside Raffe, the heat of him prickling against one side and Evangaline’s comforting presence on the other since she’d rolled her wheelchair to the front now.
Pulling a sealed envelope from her bag, she offered it to the bailiff with steady fingers.
“This has my address on it, Your Honor. I’m not comfortable announcing it in open court.”
The bailiff carried it to the bench. The judge opened it, glanced at the address, then quickly typed it into her computer. Her brows shot up. The corner of her lips twitched. Then she handed the envelope back down the chain until it was returned to Mia.
“I see,” the judge said, voice thoughtful. “And you’re willing to take on the burden of the child’s care?”
Mia’s spine stiffened at the word burden.
She turned her head, looking straight at Freddy.
His small hands gripped the armrest of his chair like he was holding on to the last lifeline he had.
He needed a bath. He needed real food, real clothes.
But most of all, he needed someone to tell him he mattered.
“No, Your Honor,” Mia said, her voice strong now. “I don’t consider helping a child in need to be a burden. I’m more than willing to stand by my husband and offer this boy every ounce of love, care, food, medical support, and confidence he deserves.”
For a moment, breathless silence swept the courtroom.
Then a chair squeaked behind her. Evangeline—frail, wrinkled, and supposedly dependent on her wheelchair—rose to her feet like a queen.
She smoothed her blouse, leveled her gaze at the judge, and announced in a voice that carried to the rafters, “And I’ll be there to help!
We may be a mismatched family, Your Honor, but we’ll muddle through. We always do.”
Gasps fluttered around the courtroom. Even Freddy’s eyes widened.
Mia shot her grandmother a shocked look. “Nonna! You—”
Evangeline just winked and patted Mia’s arm. “Hush, dear. It’s called dramatic effect. The judges always love a good dramatic effect,” she said in a stage whisper.
The judge’s lips twitched as if she were fighting back a smile. She turned her attention to the social worker. “Ms. Carmichael, do you approve of this arrangement?”
The social worker stood quickly, her grin so wide it was practically contagious.
She placed a gentle hand on Freddy’s shoulder, soothing him.
“Absolutely, Your Honor. We don’t usually see positive outcomes like this.
I’ll visit the home today for inspection, after giving the new family some time to settle in.
You’ll have my report on your desk tomorrow morning. ”
“Excellent!” the judge declared, lifting her gavel. She slammed it down once, the sound echoing through the chamber like a thunderclap. “So ordered.”
The courtroom buzzed with whispers and movement, but Mia could only hear her own breath, ragged with adrenaline. She’d just volunteered her home. Her life. For a boy she hadn’t even met.
Beside her, Evangeline leaned close and murmured slyly, “Well, mia cara, if you wanted to find out more about your husband, this is a good way to do it.”
Mia almost laughed despite herself. Leave it to Nonna to make a joke at the moment her whole world tilted upside down.