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, but she knew every page by heart.

She hesitated before asking, her voice soft. “Mrs. Maggie… would it be alright if I took the Cinderella book again? Just for tonight?”

“What do you need the book for? You should be able to recite every word by heart’’ Mrs. Maggie teased, eyeing her with a knowing smile. “Still dreaming of a prince, are you?”

Araceli laughed, though her cheeks burned. “I just… I like how he saves her. How he takes her away from all her troubles.” she admitted.

The older woman let out a hearty chuckle. “You have a good heart, child. One day, I reckon your prince will come. A good man, God-fearing, and kind.”

Araceli clutched the book against her chest, warmth spreading through her. She hope for nothing more than to find her prince someday. Someone gentle, someone who saw her heart. So she would have a taste of the love she read about before it was too late.

She thanked Mrs. Maggie again, gathered the food, and stepped out into the cool evening air, the book pressed close to her side as she made her way to the home she shared with Father Ambrose.

***

Father Ambrose’s fingers twitched as he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, sweat pooling at his collar. Across from him, Nico leaned back against the worn couch, his sharp gaze studying the desperate man before him.

“I’ve given you enough time,” Nico said coolly. “It’s time to pay up.”

Ambrose swallowed hard. “Please, just a little longer. I swear, I—I just need a little more time.”

Nico exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I’ve had a soft spot for you, Ambrose, but it’s starting to harden.” He leaned forward, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “Next time I come, I won’t be asking. I’ll be burying a bullet in the side of your damn face”

Ambrose’s mind raced, he knew the type of family Nico came from and that he wasn’t making empty threats. He searched his mind for anything of value that he had to offer to Nico that could stall his impending death. And then, something clicked.

“What if… what if I give you a girl?”

Nico’s brows lifted slightly. “Do you think I’m some kind of pimp” he spat.

“Not—not like that,” Ambrose stammered. “I mean, she could… she could keep you company. While I get the money together. She’s young. Beautiful. Sweet as anything. She’d be… useful.”

Nico gave him a long, unimpressed look. “Like I said, don’t run a brothel, Ambrose.”

“No, no, of course not,” Ambrose rushed out. “But she’s obedient. She listens. A good girl, you know? You could settle the debt with her, at least for a little while.”

For a moment, Nico seemed ready to dismiss the idea outright. And then, just as he opened his mouth the door creaked open as well.

Araceli stepped inside, pausing when she saw the unfamiliar man. Nico’s gaze flicked to her, assessing, appraising. She was small, delicate almost, with wide ocean-colored eyes, curious eyes that flitted between him and Ambrose.

“Hello,” she greeted politely, her voice barely above a whisper as she took in the sight before her. Father Ambrose only got visitors when people from the church wanted special intercession prayers but this didn’t look like a prayer session to her.

Nico turned back to Ambrose, a smirk curling his lips. “This her?”

Ambrose straightened. “She’s the one.”

Araceli frowned. “W…What’s going on?”

Ambrose forced a smile. “Go to your room, sweetheart. Start packing a bag.”

Her confusion deepened. “Packing? For what?”

“Just do it,” he said quickly. “I’ll explain later.”

Still puzzled, she nodded and disappeared down the hall.

Araceli’s hands trembled slightly as she folded her dresses into a small satchel. From the other room, she could hear Ambrose’s low voice, but the words were muffled. Something about the situation felt… odd.

When Ambrose entered, she turned to him. “Who was that man?”

A slow, almost wistful smile spread across his face. “That, my dear, is the man God has chosen for you.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Your husband,” Ambrose said smoothly. “The love of your life.”

Her breath caught. Her husband? She glanced down at the worn Cinderella book beside her bag.

Prince Charming.

“God has sent him to you,” Ambrose continued, his voice thick with conviction. “Remember how I always told you God would reveal the man you were to love to me. Well, that’s him. This is a test, child. Like Job in his suffering, you must prove your faith. His heart is hardened now, but you must soften it. Serve him. Obey him. And soon, he will love you as you deserve.”

Her heart fluttered, equal parts excitement and anticipation. She had dreamed of this moment for so long. A love story written by fate, blessed by God Himself.

This is what she’d always been waiting for since the day she told Father Ambrose about her dream of falling in love and he told her that he’d be the one to reveal her dream man to him as God would lead him. And now, her prince was finally here.

But something bothered her. Why had her prince been so dismissive?

“Why didn’t he say anything to me?” she asked hesitantly.

Ambrose’s smile didn’t falter. “He’s testing you, like I said, my dear. The way all men do. But if you are patient, if you obey, soon he will cherish you.”

Araceli nodded slowly, mentally scolding herself for having slight doubts. This was God’s plan, who was she to question her heavenly father?

Ambrose brushed her hair from her face, his touch almost fatherly. “Now, be a good girl. Don’t give him trouble. Don’t ask too many questions. And—most importantly—don’t bring up marriage. That will come in time, I promise you. You will stay with him from now on and I'll go on a long trip so we might not see each other for a long time. Peace be unto you, my child.”

Her lips parted in protest, but he had already gone to the main room.

Back in the main room, Ambrose spoke in hushed tones to Nico. “She might bring up marriage,” he warned.

Nico raised a brow. “Marriage?”

“Just go along with it,” Ambrose insisted. “She’s fixated on… certain things. Like falling in love and marriage and all of that.”

Nico rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply. “Whatever. As long as she can make me feel good, I don’t care what little role play she’s into.”

Inside her small room, Araceli clasped a delicate chain between her fingers. It was a small necklace with a stunning Venus diamond pendant that seemed to glow in the darkness. Ambrose had given her long ago. She had never worn it, always fearing vanity, and remembering his teachings against loving material things. But she always felt that it was more than just a material possession. She felt drawn to the shape and the glow of the jewel and every edge of it. Plus it was the only gift Father Ambrose had ever given to her. Excitedly, she slipped it into her bag and smiled.

It would be her wedding necklace. A special jewel for a special occasion.

Her heart swelled with anticipation as she grabbed her bag and stepped back into the living room. Nico was waiting.

Her prince had actually come for her.

But something unsettled her and she turned to Father Ambrose to ask why he was going on such a long trip but before she could he rushed her out.

“Okay goodbye child and God’s mercy be upon you,” he said almost dismissively.

“Come on Let's go” Nico huffed, his tone bordering on impatience.

Araceli expected a more heartfelt goodbye from Father Ambrose. She wanted to thank him for raising her all her life even though he wasn’t her biological father. She also wanted to say goodbye to Mrs. Maggie and her grandkids but before she could register or react, she was practically pushed into Nico’s black SUV.

Behind her, Ambrose wasted no time. He gathered what little he could carry, shoving money, clothes, and documents into a bag. He had no intention of staying when he couldn’t possibly come up with Nico’s money. He needed to get out of the town fast.

“May God help that child” he said as he shook his head and locked the door to his house that he never planned on returning to.