Page 38 of Hidden While In Sight

Then another.

Hannah fired the nanny. Watching that was almost amusing.

Diego began seeing Hannah’s smile nonstop—the one with dimples. Seeing it made him ache to go to her.

She no longer worked out at all but spent every moment she could with her children. As if even she believed it was temporary.

People in suits came to talk to her. Hannah said very little, not letting on that she’d known about her husband’s activities at all, waiting for them to tire of her and leave.

Seeing her blank expression, even temporarily, led Diego to do more pull-ups.

On the third day, Hannah and her family actually ate a full meal, even Connor. Parts of the meal were burnt because Hannah had made it herself.

Diego’s alarm went off. He silenced it, returning his gaze to the monitor without texting Naz. The kid was probably doing better than he was.

Hannah’s smile really was breathtaking.

Diego should have been happy for her. Instead, every moment he watched spread the coldness inside of him.

Ramiro called again.

“He called in a few favors.”

“Right,” Diego muttered, having expected that. “Bail?”

Ramiro rattled off the amount.

No way Ashford could afford that. Diego wondered why the hell he wasn’t relieved.

“They consider him a flight risk, even with the family,” Ramiro said. “Unless his lawyer can convince them otherwise, it’ll stick.”

“He had his hands in a lot of pots.”

“He did.” Ramiro sighed. “The clients are pissed, but the trial was delayed, so there’s that. I still had to refund them quite a bit of money.”

Diego didn’t give a shit.

Ramiro went silent.

Diego waited, knowing what was coming. “Not yet,” he said before Ramiro could ask him again.

“He’s not getting out. She’ll be safe now, Diego.”

Diego said nothing, his finger tracing her face. He’d never be close enough to her again.

“For fuck’s sake, it’s time.”

Diego closed his eyes. The way they burned in his head made him wonder how long he’d been staring at the damn screens. His ass was numb from the chair.

“Not yet,” he repeated, opening his eyes.

“Tomorrow,” Ramiro said, his tone hard. “I’m coming to get you. Either you go ahead and do what you want to do, or I’m dragging your ass out of there.”

“I’m not ready.” Diego hated the rasp in his voice.

Ramiro sighed. “You’ll never be ready, but this isn’t healthy. Leave the cameras if you want. Reroute them to your phone. I’m coming, and you’re leaving that goddamn house.”

Ramiro hung up.

---