Chapter 6 - The Mafia Boss Who Chose a Different War
Victor Dane’s empire didn't collapse with gunfire.
It collapsed with records.
Financial transfers.
Hotel surveillance.
Recorded conversations.
And testimony from his own son.
Three weeks later, Rafe stood beside the windows of his harbor home watching news helicopters circle downtown.
Victor Dane had been arrested that morning on multiple federal charges.
June walked into the room.
“It’s over.”
“No,” Rafe said. “It's quieter.”
“For you, that's practically over.”
She hugged him.
He hesitated before wrapping one tattooed arm around her.
Then June noticed me standing in the doorway.
“Emma.”
Rafe turned.
His expression changed immediately.
“You came.”
“You invited me.”
“You ignored my last three invitations.”
“I was busy.”
“Three weeks?”
“I have patients.”
“I was a patient.”
“You were a nightmare.”
June slipped toward the door.
“I’m leaving before this becomes uncomfortable.”
“June.”
“Goodbye.”
She vanished.
Rafe approached me.
His shoulder had healed well.
Tonight he wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit with an open-collar black shirt, tattoos visible along his neck and hands.
Very much Rafe Calder.
Very much mafia.
But different somehow.
“You look better,” I said.
“Professional assessment?”
“Unfortunately.”
He held out something.
An envelope.
I groaned.
“Rafe.”
“Open it.”
“If there’s money—”
“There isn't.”
Inside was a repayment agreement.
I stared.
“You actually made one?”
“You insisted on repaying your father’s debt.”
I scanned it.
The monthly payment was absurdly small.
“Twenty dollars?”
“Plus interest.”
“What interest?”
“One dinner per month.”
I looked up.
“That’s extortion.”
“I'm told it's part of my charm.”
“You have no charm.”
“June disagrees.”
“June wants grandchildren.”
His expression froze.
I smiled.
“Got you.”
“Cruel woman.”
I folded the agreement.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Twenty dollars.”
“And dinner.”
“Dinner is negotiable.”
“No.”
I laughed.
Then his expression became serious.
“Emma.”
“Yes?”
“There's something else.”
“Why do I dislike that sentence?”
“I've spent most of my life believing protecting people meant controlling everything around them.”
I stayed quiet.
“You were the first person in years who looked at me injured, surrounded by armed men, and treated me like a man who needed help.”
“You did need help.”
“I know.”
He stepped closer.
“And you've been telling me no ever since.”
“You need practice hearing it.”
“I'd like more practice.”
I understood.
“Are you asking me out?”
“Yes.”
“Like a normal person?”
His mouth tightened.
“Don't push it.”
I smiled.
“One date.”
“That's all?”
“Earn the second.”
He extended his hand.
I looked at it.
Tattooed fingers. Expensive watch. A hand half the city feared.
I took it.
“Seven tomorrow.”
“I’ll send a car.”
“No.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“I’ll drive.”
He sighed.
“Fine.”
I started toward the door.
“Emma.”
I turned.
“What?”
Rafe smiled.
“You still owe me twenty dollars.”
I laughed.
May you like
“Goodnight, Calder.”
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