All Chapters of The Don’s Captive Saint : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Araceli woke up with puffy eyes and a heart so heavy it felt like it might crack with every breath. She couldn’t breathe without thinking about the night ahead. Tonight would be the first of many nights she’d be forced to wait in the hallway like some sacrificial lamb, ready to be led to the slaughter. She prayed all morning. Clutching her rosary between trembling fingers, she begged God for a way out. A miracle. Perhaps he would lose his way home and never return?Why had the devil chosen her? She wondered throughout the night.She wasn’t beautiful like the Vivienne’s of the world. She didn’t wear expensive perfumes or bat her lashes with the seductiveness of a temptress. She was just a maid. An orphan. A poor church girl with nothing to offer. Nico had told her so over and over again. That she wasn’t desirable. That no man would ever want her. So why did a man like Luciano Salvatore who could have any woman he wanted choose her?It wasn’t a compliment nor was it flattering that he’d

The next morning, Araceli moved with a sense of determination. She had spent the entirety of last night devising a plan. A real one. One that, if God was truly listening, would be her way out of this house and out of this nightmare. The first step was to get approved for a break. She found Roberta in the kitchen organizing the breakfast schedule for the week and tried her best to keep her voice casual. “Roberta,” she started, folding her arms behind her back, “say a staff member, like, a maid for instance, wanted to take a short leave… how would they go about that?” Roberta gave her a small look over her glasses. “Well, in this hypothetical situation,” she said with faint amusement, “the maid would have to speak to the head of staff.” Araceli’s heart skipped. “Right. Cool, cool. And by any chance, would you know where this hypothetical maid could find the head of staff?” Roberta looked her dead in the eyes and gave a half-smile. “She’d be talking to her right now.” Aracel

Araceli froze.No air, no sound, no thought could move through her. Her eyes locked onto the man seated comfortably in Mrs. Maggie’s worn floral armchair, his posture casual, confident, and impossibly out of place in the humble warmth of the small home.Her lips barely parted, a small breath escaping them in a whisper. “No…”Mrs. Maggie, completely oblivious to her horror, was cheerfully fussing over her visitor.“Oh, isn’t it sweet?” she called. “He came this afternoon, said he was your boss, and wanted to see the place you were always talking about. I think that’s just lovely, don’t you?”Araceli couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. All she could do was stare at the devil who had invaded her safe haven.The sound of the oven ding made her flinch.“Oh! Let me get the cupcakes,” Mrs. Maggie chirped, bustling off, humming.Luciano’s eyes never left Araceli. A smirk curled the corner of his lips as he studied her like prey, startled, cornered prey.After his father’s unwanted visit, he’d gone

The Golden Astoria. That was the name etched in gold against obsidian glass, the name talked about with reverence by the elite, the powerful, the untouchable. Celebrities, royals, oil barons, and politicians passed through its hallowed halls. But none more feared than Luciano Salvatore.Araceli had only heard of the hotel through gossip from Paula. But now, she was about to be dragged toward its gates.They would be staying in his private suite. The presidential suite, tailored for someone who ruled more than a country. And the moment he said it, every hair on her body had risen in alarm.Luciano had already stepped out of the car, his door slamming shut with finality, but she stayed frozen in place, her hand trembling on the handle. When she didn’t move, he opened her door himself, reached in, and dragged her out like she weighed nothing.“No,” she whispered, stumbling in her heels. “I’m not going anywhere with you—”He yanked her against him with force. Her front collided with his h

Luciano stepped out of the shower, toweling his hair dry, the cool air of the suite prickling his skin. He glanced around the room. His jaw tightened when he noticed it was empty.There was a strange twist in his gut when her absence regained. It wasn’t anger or annoyance. Rather it was something sharper that bordered on panic. He didn’t like it. Not one bit.He scanned the space but found nothing disturbed, no broken windows, no open doors. Then his gaze landed on the second bathroom. The door was closed.He crossed the room in three strides, knocking hard once, twice. “Araceli.”There was no answer. He banged the door louder but still no response. He growled under his breath, something dark and unfamiliar crawling up his throat. “Open the door.”The silence mocked him and his patience snapped. With one powerful shove, he threw his weight into it. The door cracked, resisted, then gave in with a violent splinter of wood and hinges. It slammed against the wall with a hollow crash.He s