The Mafia Boss' Undercover Wife

Prologue The white van—paved with a telecom company’s name—stood still at the side of the road in a busy street. Its occupants sat deathly still listening to the sound of voices echoing through the headphones on their heads. “…numbers are flexible, depends on how many you can move.” “As many as you want…” Vague words. That was all they were. Vague, hollow words, and Nicholas de Luca wasn’t even here. And way too soon, the two men shook hands and parted ways. “Damn it!” Camilla Torres slammed her headphones down on the little table inside the back of the van. The men went their separate ways, the camera following them for only a brief moment before they disappeared from view. The rest of the team turned to her, a look of pity on their faces. “You know that the Chief isn’t going to be happy about it, right?” Eric, her coworker, asked. And he was right. Camilla had been working on this case for over a year and yet, she seemed to have zero evidence that Nicholas De Luca was in deep with this organ buying ring, but she just knew it in her gut. When Camilla didn’t answer, Eric kept going. “I’m sorry, C… he’s going to pull the plug.” “He can’t! I know he’s guilty, I just know it!” Her voice was full of emotion. Letting a bad guy go? It wasn’t in her nature. “It’s going to be alright C,” Eric smiled sadly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “We’ve still got that Costa murder case to work on, remember?” he attempted to cheer her up, but she wasn’t having it. “No! I want this case!” She yelled. “You’ve got to let it go, the ch—” “What if—” Camilla began. “Don’t you dare!” Eric spat, eyes wide with rage. He knew what she was going to say. He’d been her mentor for the last two years, and he knew her better than anyone else on this team. “Don’t you dare say it in front of the Chief. It’s crazy.” Eric bristled. And with that the conversation was cut short. Camilla held her tongue, but the fire in her veins refused to be dimmed. Once she’d made up her mind about something, she couldn’t let it go. Now all she had to do was convince the Chief. The team of five went straight to the Chief’s office for debriefing. Camilla’s palms were sweaty as she neared the door, bracing herself for the wrath of the head officer. She didn’t have to wait long. The door had only just closed when the Officer spoke. “You were certain there would be an arrest happening today.” He aimed a pointed glare at her. “There was information suggesting De Luca would be there himself,” she defended. “One year…” the Chief stood up from his seat, hands behind his back as he started pacing, “One year of resources wasted. How am I going to explain that to my superiors, Torres?” She knew better than to answer when the Chief was in a mood. Everyone in the room was silent. She could feel the looks they were casting her though. Looks of pity. “I knew this was a mistake. I never hand cases to newbies, but Eric swore you were ready…” “She was, Sir. She is. It’s just—” Eric spoke up, trying to defend her. “We all know De Luca is a Mafia family…and you were certain you would be able to take him down. But we have absolutely nothing.” The Chief continued, talking over Eric as if he’d said nothing. “With all due respect, Sir,” Camilla bit back, “we have plenty, just not enough to pin it on him.” “You have nothing!” The Chief spat. “He is guilty! I just know it in my gut!” She snapped back. “Your gut? Your gut just cost us half a million of tax payers money!” The Chief was so angry, his whole face turned red. “And we’re no where near getting any closer to him!” “If we had someone on the inside—” Danny began, but he abruptly stopped speaking at the look Eric gave him—his eyes nervously darting to Camilla—as if begging her not to say it. “Well we don’t! We don’t have anyone close to hi—” “What if I marry him?!” Camilla blurted it. It was as if someone had cast a silent spell on the whole room. Eric closed his eyes and sighed loudly, while the Chief stared at her for a long moment. “Marry him?” “Yes,” Camilla stood, “I could marry him.” “This is ridiculous,” Eric shook his head. “Why? I’m the perfect candidate. I’m young, I have Latina roots, my mother was Irish—” she gestured to her red hair, fire blazing in her voice, “and these families do it all the time. It would get us closer than a year of dead leads ever has.” The Chief eyed her for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight. “This isn’t a soap opera, Torres,” he finally growled. “You think you can just waltz into De Luca’s life with a ring on your finger and walk out with evidence?” “Yes,” Camila said simply. “It’s the only way.” The Chief’s gaze flicked to Eric. Eric shook his head, but his silence said enough. “Goddamn it,” the Chief muttered. “Fine. We’ll build you a cover. But if this goes sideways, Torres, it’s not just your badge on the line—it’s your life.”