All Chapters of The Don’s Captive Bride: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Irene’s POV. I settled my father into bed, then hurried to the nearest clinic, to get medical supplies, needed to fix his battered body. By the time I finished cleaning and bandaging his wounds, I was exhausted. My body ached from the stress, and my soul was worn out by the horror I witnessed tonight. I collapsed onto my bed, hoping I could black out the miserable reality of my life, but sleep offered me no escape. All night, I tossed and turned, trapped in a recurring nightmare of Diego, shooting my father in the head with his silver pistol, while I watched in, unable to save him. I took some sedatives and I was finally falling asleep as morning crept in, but the jarring clink of glass bottles stirred me out of bed. ‘Papa was at it again.’ I stumbled out of my room in my nightgown, following the strong aroma of Spanish whiskey into the kitchen. My father sat hunched at the table, four bottles before him, one was already empty. "Papa, seriously?" I grumbled, frustrate

Irene’s POV. "No!” I protested. “Diego can't… he can't do this!" I insisted, my voice cracking as my panic rose. "He has no right!!" Camilla's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Oh, but he does, Irene. He is Lord Diego.” “And after your little display of arrogance, this is a rather lenient punishment, don't you think?” She tilted her head, feigning concern. “A few days in the dungeon should teach you to obey him as your Lord.” Anger stirred up within me, overshadowing my fear. “Obey?” I spat the word out like shit. “I will never obey that tyrant… that monster!” Camilla’s smile faltered for a second. “You keep running your mouth like this, then you might get yourself into bigger problems.” She said coldly. "Now, are you going to come peacefully, or should I order these men to drag you out?” “What will it be?" I couldn't believe this was happening. My heart raced in my chest as I struggled to accept the reality of my helpless situation. I had to thi

Irene’s POV Drained and disoriented, I woke up to a pounding headache. Fragments of the previous day flashed through my mind as I lay on the bed, admiring the murals painted on the ceiling in Diego’s Bedroom. Memories of the suffering I endured in the dungeon came flooding back, stirring up feelings of despair and hopelessness in me. But as memories of Diego's rescue resurfaced, how he swept in like a knight in shining armor, carrying me to his suite, a bittersweet feeling settled in my chest. The details of the previous night were hazy, but I could vividly recall Diego's unexpected kindness. He had bathed me, washed my hair, and tucked me into his bed. I feared he might take advantage of my vulnerable state, but he hadn't. Instead, he treated my body with respect. This was not what I expected of a ruthless mafia Lord, I wondered if there was more to Diego Vargas than met the eye. I was confused by his actions, but one thing was clear: Diego was a stone-cold devil who

After the ceremony at the chapel, we headed back to the estate, with an entourage of guests. Diego was having an after-party at the villa with his associates and close allies, but that was none of my business. I had done my part. I had put on my best performance to please Diego, wearing fake smiles all through the ceremony like a 'happy bride'. Now, the muscles in my jaws were hurting from the strain. I changed from my wedding dress into a red gown and black kitten heels, something comfortable that wouldn't draw too much attention to me. I made my way out to the ballroom where the party ensued. The air inside felt different; the aroma of wealth and privilege was heavy in the air. Everyone in the room was glittering with extravagance, from their outfits to the strong perfumes they wore. It seemed like they all came from old money. I came from nothing. As I stepped in, the loud music and annoying laughter of some women trying to flirt with Diego assaulted m

I didn’t run after Diego, that would’ve been dramatic enough to stop the whole party. I quietly returned to the bar where I sat before. ‘Who was this woman that he talked about?’ ‘This ghost that haunted him.’ ‘And why did he want me to be her?’ My mind was flooding with questions. As I pondered, my heart raced in my chest. I noticed Gomez was still there, at the bar. He wasn’t serving drinks He just stood there, his eyes narrowed at me, watching like a hawk. It almost creeped me out. I needed answers and he seemed like someone who knew things… more than he cared to let on. Things I needed to find out. I confronted him, my eyes locking onto his. “Tell me, what’s Diego’s story, huh?” “You seem to know him more than anyone else, why does he seem so complicated?” I asked, trying to play it cool, but my mind was running wild, desperate for answers. Gomez's expression turned cold, his eyes narrowing into slits as he gazed at me. I expected some explanati