The Don’s Captive Saint

The scent of warm bread and simmering broth filled the small kitchen, wrapping Araceli in a familiar comfort. She perched on the edge of an old wooden chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she watched Mrs. Maggie bustle about the stove. The older woman, round and sturdy, moved with ease in the kitchen, ladling a thick stew into a large container.“You don’t eat enough, child,” Mrs. Maggie chided without turning around. “You’re all skin and bones. What good is faith if you don’t have the strength to carry it?”Araceli smiled faintly, tracing a finger over the lace trim of her skirt. “I eat just fine, Mrs. Maggie. But thank you for the food. I know you don’t have to—”“Nonsense.” Mrs. Maggie turned, waving her wooden spoon. “What kind of Christian woman would I be if I let you starve?”Across the room, Mrs. Maggie’s grandchildren sat on the rug, giggling as they flipped through their picture books. A battered, well-loved copy of Cinderella. The cover was faded, the edges curling,

Araceli barely slept the night before her ‘big day’She lay awake in the unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, excitement bubbling inside her chest. Today was her wedding day. The day she’d dreamed of.It wasn’t much like her dreams thought, in her dreams, a carriage would be waiting outside and a dozen maidens would be helping her prepare but none of that mattered. As long as she got to stand beside Nico, as long as he finally saw her, truly saw her, it would all be worth it.When the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, she jumped out of bed, smoothing down the wrinkles in her only white dress. It wasn’t much, but it would do. She slipped on her shoes, fastened her necklace around her throat, and ran her fingers through her wavy black hair, doing her best to tame it with what little she had.By the time she was ready, she expected to hear movement in the house—perhaps Nico getting dressed, preparing for the ceremony. But the house was silent.She peeked into his roo

The car slowed to a stop at the foot of the grand estate. Araceli leaned toward the window, her mouth slightly parted as she stared at the towering gates and the mansion beyond them.If Nico’s house had been a mansion, then this was a palace. A fortress of pale stone and tall windows, so big it made her feel even smaller than she already did.When the car door opened, she didn’t move. She was still gazing up at the columns and balconies, wondering how many rooms it must hold, and how many people it would take to fill such a big structure. She was sure the house would be buzzing with life and that sparked excitement in her. She’d only ever lived with Father Ambrose so she always desired to live in a full house.Luciano’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Are you planning on coming in tonight?”“Oh! Sorry,” she squeaked, scrambling out of the car.Luciano turned without waiting for her and began walking up the stone steps. She hurried after him, eyes wide as they moved through the gran

Luciano sat on the edge of his bed, laptop open and the camera feed already pulled up. His gaze was steady as he watched the screen flicker to life. Araceli’s room came into view.She was pacing. Just slowly spinning in a circle in the middle of the room like she was trying to take it all in. Her fingers brushed along the shelves, and the edge of the dresser, her mouth open in quiet awe.“I’ve never had so many shelves to myself before.,” she murmured to herself, “this house is like the castle in fairytales” she commented.Luciano leaned back slightly, rolling his eyes. At first, he thought she was talking to someone through some sort of device but no…she was talking to herself. Then she did a small twirl in the center of the room, barefoot on the marble, her arms outstretched like a child playing in a field.He blinked once.“She’s ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. He looked at the screen again, focusing this time, on how her long her danced with her as she spun and on the

Luciano’s broad chest and hard abs were on full display as he sat on the edge of the bed, the sculpted muscle and hard lines of his body catching the early morning light spilling through the window. Technically he wasn’t naked. He was just shirtless but to her it was nakedness. She had never seen that much of a man before. Not in real life. Not even in books. Her entire body flushed with heat, from her cheeks to the soles of her feet. She squeezed her eyes shut immediately and bowed her head, gripping the mop like it was a crucifix. Luciano didn’t even glance up. He was scrolling through something on his phone, his voice cool and casual. “Clean my room.” Araceli stayed rooted to the floor. She dared a peek just one small glance at the room. The room was a mess. Sheets tangled, pillows tossed on the floor, and a thick, musky scent hung in the air. It clung to the walls. Heavy and strange to her. She didn’t know what it was, but it made her uneasy. Still, she didn’t move.