Chapter 2 - Test of faith

The ride to the house was quiet.

Araceli sat as she always did, with her hands folded neatly in her lap. From the backseat, she snuck glances at Nico from the corner of her eye. He hadn’t said a word to her since they left Ambrose’s house, only offering a short, dismissive “Let’s go.” The entire drive, he had been glued to his phone, murmuring in Italian, his voice smooth and confident.

She couldn’t understand a word, so she stayed silent, even though she was bubbling with curiosity and wanted to ask him so many things.

What’s your favorite color? What kind of food do you like? Do you enjoy going to church?

None of the questions felt right though. How did one start a conversation with the man they were meant to marry? She’d hoped Gof would drop a manual in her lap to help her out when this time came.

The car rolled to a stop outside a large house. It wasn’t what she expected—it was modern, with sharp angles, glass, and steel, looming like something out of a different world.

Nico stepped out first, not bothering to glance back as he strode inside. Araceli hesitated before scrambling to follow him, clutching her small bag tightly.

Inside, the house was just as cold as its exterior. Expensive furniture, dim lighting, and not a single sign of warmth. No family portraits, no religious symbols. Just an emptiness that made her skin prickle.

Nico tossed his keys onto a marble counter and finally looked at her.

“Go put your things in the room,” he said flatly. “And when you’re done, come to mine.”

Araceli blinked. “Oh! Alright. But, um…” She bit her lip, shifting from foot to foot. “I was wondering… if we could talk a bit first. I want to know things about you like…what’s your favorite book?”

Nico stared at her blankly. “Huh?”

“Your favorite story,” she clarified. “Mine’s—”

“Listen,” he cut her off, running a hand through his hair. “Just put your things away and meet me in my room, okay?” Then his gaze darkened, his voice taking on an edge. “And would you drop the innocent act? You're not with Ambrose anymore and I’m sure you know why you’re here.”

Her breath caught and the warmth in her chest with all her excitement and her nervous joy, fizzled into uncertainty.

He left her standing there in the hallway, her small bag weighing heavy in her grip.

Araceli carefully made her way to the small room that Nico pointed toward and placed her clothes into the wooden drawers, her fingers brushing against the Cinderella book she had tucked into her bag.

Drop the innocent act…? She frowned, confused. What did he mean by that? Has she done something wrong already? Darn it! She hadn’t even spent an hour with the man and she’d already made him upset somehow. How could she possibly make him love her?

She shook the thought away. No, this is just a test, she reminded herself. God was testing her patience and her devotion. Just like Ambrose had warned her.

Taking a steadying breath, she made her way to Nico’s room.

The moment she stepped inside, she felt something shift in the air.

Nico was sitting on the edge of his bed, sleeves rolled up, eyes heavy-lidded and filled with dark desire as he studied her. He didn’t smile.

“Come here,” he said.

Araceli obeyed, stepping closer. Her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t pinpoint why, but she didn’t like this atmosphere at all.

His hand lifted, fingers grazing her arm and eventually tracing her waist. “You’re pretty scrawny,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Not really the type of woman I usually keep around, but… you’ll do.”

The words sat uncomfortably in her stomach.

He traced his fingers along her hip, and instantly red flags went up in her head. It was the first time a man was touching her like this and it felt entirely wrong. Araceli swallowed hard. “Wait… what are we doing?”

Nico smirked. “That depends. What are you ready for?” His voice lowered, taking on a lazy amusement. “You want to get on your knees and suck me off? Or do you want us to go to the main event church girl” he accentuated his words by licking his lips.

Araceli stayed quiet not understanding what he was asking for. With annoyance, Nico stood up and got behind Araceli. He forcibly pushed her backside to his front and Araceli felt something hard poke her butt. “What’s it going to be?” his voice was lust-filled but laced with a hard edge.

Instantly she began to whimper. Nothing about this felt good. Her stomach twisted violently and heart beat rushed which was never a good sign and all of a sudden moisture filled her eyes “I—I don’t understand.” she whispered as she turned to face him.

His smirk faded. “Jesus. Are you about to cry?”

She blinked rapidly, shaking her head. “No, I—I’m sorry, I just—I don’t understand what you’re asking me for. And I'm not really comfortable right now.”

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face and murmuring a string of curses. “I want you to make me feel good, Araceli.”

Her face brightened. “Oh! You mean, like, a massage?”

A stunned silence followed. Then, he let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You really are just a fool, huh?”

Araceli bit her lip, shame curling in her chest. Why did she keep making him angry?

“Get out,” he muttered, waving her off.

She turned, shame, relief, and confusion battling inside her.

But before she could leave, his voice cut through the air again. “Wait. Clean this place up first,” he ordered then walked out of the room without sparing her a second glance.

The days passed by in a blur.

Every morning, she would wake up hopeful, eager to talk to him, to know him, to love him the way a wife should. But every time she tried, she was met with the same dismissiveness. He would send her off to clean, barely acknowledging her presence.

She scrubbed the floors, dusted the shelves, and washed the dishes, telling herself over and over: This is a test. God is testing me.

And so she endured.

One evening, as she carried a fresh set of linens into his bedroom, she heard him talking on the phone in a low and serious tone. He was speaking in English which was rare and curiously got the best of her so she eavesdropped.

“…Yes. Tomorrow. Everything is set.” there was a pause before he continued “My wedding will be at noon. Make sure everything is in place.” he then stated the address of the event.

Araceli’s breath hitched. His wedding? Excitement bloomed in her chest.

She knocked lightly on the door before stepping inside. Nico turned, still holding his phone, his brows furrowing slightly.

“Did you just say…” She excitedly said but stopped herself and cleared her throat, trying and failing to hide her excitement “ Sorry but did you just say your wedding is tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She clasped her hands together, eyes shining. “So… you mean our wedding?”

For a second, he just stared at her. Then, something flickered in his expression—amusement, disbelief. So Ambrose wasn’t kidding about her wedding fixation?

His lips curled. Finding sick humor in the situation, he played along “Yes, Araceli. Our wedding is tomorrow. Make sure you come dressed in white. I’ll be standing at the altar in a tux” he teased and taunted her sarcastically.

But Araceli was none the wiser to his sarcasm. Her poor heart nearly burst with joy. She had passed the test.

She had earned her Prince Charming.

That night, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, too excited to sleep. Her mind was filled with all wedding-related things.

Her wedding dress—she would need one. But it was alright if she didn’t have something fancy. She would simply wear her best dress, the one she saved for special occasions.

And the necklace.

She reached for the small, simple chain in her bag, running her fingers over the cool metal. She had always told herself she would wear it on her wedding day.

Tomorrow is my wedding day. She wanted to laugh, cry, and scream all at once. She wished she had a phone so she could gush all about it to Mrs. Maggie.

A quiet giggle escaped her lips.

No matter how distant Nico had been, no matter how cold, tomorrow would change everything. Tomorrow, she would be his wife, and he would love her.

Her very own Prince Charming.

She fell asleep dreaming of wedding bells and happily ever afters.