The Don's Unmarked Woman

Arianna POV

Just as Aunt Lucia descended the front steps of the brownstone to greet me, she paused mid-stride, her sharp gaze cutting between me and the pair standing on the sidewalk. I knew what was forming behind her eyes — the question, the concern, the fury she would dress up as maternal worry. I cut her off before she could draw breath.

"Mom sent these supplies for you. Be sure to sort through them quickly — some of it won't keep long."

I didn't spare Domin — my so-called husband — a glance. The man had made his choices loud and clear these past few weeks, parading them through every room of the Valente estate like declarations of war. But today, he surprised me by speaking up, his voice laced with a calm so practiced it could have fooled anyone who didn't know him the way I did.

"Arianna, don't misunderstand. Selena's old apartment was too close to the Southside — unaffiliated territory. I couldn't leave her there unprotected. So I found her a safer place nearby. I didn't realize it was this close to your aunt's home." He paused, his dark eyes sweeping over the crates being hauled from the trunk. "By the way, why do you have so much stuff?"

I directed the driver to carry the crates through to Aunt Lucia's kitchen, my voice easy, unhurried. "You don't need to explain yourself to me, Dominic. My mother bought these things. We don't know when we'll be back, so she sent extra."

Dominic visibly relaxed at my indifference. His broad shoulders dropped a fraction, the tension in his jaw easing as though he'd been bracing for a fight he didn't have to have. His relief only deepened my irritation — a slow, corrosive thing eating through the lining of my chest.

"No problem. The North Ridge safe house isn't far from here. Just let me know if you need anything," he said lightly, as if we were still close enough to share pleasantries. As if the last eight years hadn't ended with me packing my things in silence while he was across town, settling another woman into a furnished apartment.

He didn't know yet that I was staying here for good. And I had no intention of telling him.

Aunt Lucia, who had been watching the exchange with the stillness of a woman who had spent her whole life reading the silences between made men, finally spoke. "Dominic, you've known Arianna since she was barely twenty. Is this really how things are between you now? It would be a shame to let misunderstandings ruin what you've built."

Before Dominic could respond, I shook my head, my voice firm enough to close the subject like a door. "There's no misunderstanding, Aunt Lucia. Dominic doesn't let one linger. If he hasn't explained by now, then there's nothing left to say."

Selena shifted uncomfortably beside him, her expression arranged into something tired and fragile — the kind of weariness that drew a man's eye and made him feel needed. It worked. Dominic's attention snapped to her immediately.

"You look pale," he murmured, concern softening his tone in a way that made something ancient and wounded twist behind my ribs.

He turned to the driver. "Hold off on the deliveries for now. We'll take the elevator first."

Watching him fuss over Selena, I stepped aside to let them pass. The hallway was narrow, and for a moment Dominic hesitated, his dark eyes flicking to mine — searching, maybe, for permission or protest. When I offered neither, he placed his hand on the small of Selena's back and guided her toward the elevator.

As the doors slid shut, I caught a fleeting glimpse of their reflection in the polished brass. Selena's wide-eyed gratitude, tilted up at him like a flower turning toward light. Dominic's protective stance, his body angled between her and the world as though she were something precious that needed shielding.

The image stirred an unwelcome memory. A younger me, barely twenty-one, standing in the marble foyer of the Valente estate while Dominic carried my suitcases inside with a grin that split his face wide open. He'd been just as attentive then, his hand warm on my waist, his voice low and certain as he leaned close to my ear: "You're going to be the Lady of this Family, Arianna. Every man in this house will answer to you."

Eight years. No ring. No church wedding. No formal acknowledgment before the Families. Just promises spoken in bedrooms and hallways where no one else could hear.

Aunt Lucia sighed beside me, her expression tinged with a regret that ran deeper than the moment. "Are you really okay with this, Arianna?"

I turned to her with a tight smile that didn't reach my eyes. "I don't have a choice. If this is where his loyalty lies, then so be it."

After the supplies were sorted and stacked in Aunt Lucia's kitchen, I decided to leave before the last of my composure cracked. Yet as I stood outside on the curb waiting for the driver to bring the car around, Dominic and Selena were still upstairs, their absence gnawing at me like a wound I kept pressing my thumb against. Out of courtesy to what we once had — or perhaps out of some stubborn refusal to be the one who stopped trying first — I pulled out my phone and sent him a short message.

When are you heading back?

The response came almost immediately, though not in the way I'd expected. A voice message.

When I hit play, Selena's sweet, high-pitched voice filled my ears, intimate as a whisper shared between conspirators.

"Arianna, Dominic's helping me fix the wiring in the apartment. This place hasn't been lived in for a while, so there's a lot to sort out. You should head home — don't let us hold you up."

I stared at the screen for a long moment, the glow of it harsh against the fading afternoon light. I could already feel the pity bubbling in my chest — not for her, but for myself, for the woman who had waited eight years for a ring that never came and was now being dismissed by the woman who'd replaced her. I swallowed it down. The Castellano blood in my veins wouldn't let me break on a sidewalk.

I climbed into the waiting car, the leather seat cold against my back. Another message buzzed through before I could close the door.

By the way, Arianna, please don't take this the wrong way. Dominic's just helping me out because he feels sorry for me. It's hard living alone when you're new to a Family's territory and you don't know anyone.

The bitterness rose in my throat, sharp as bile. She wanted me to know. Every word was a carefully placed blade — how closely she relied on him, how willingly he answered her calls, how naturally he'd stepped into the role of her protector. The role he'd once played for me.

I barely noticed when Dominic called moments later. I picked up, my hand steady even as something inside me trembled.

His voice was sharp with frustration, the kind of controlled anger that meant he'd been coached — or provoked. "Arianna, why were you so cold to Selena earlier? She's one of my people, and it's my responsibility to make sure she's safe. Her situation's temporary until we find her proper accommodation. Isn't it normal for me to help her?"

I laughed bitterly, though there was no humor in it. The sound came out hollow, echoing against the car window. "Since when do you go out of your way for your people like this, Dominic? At the Christmas gathering last year, you sulked and left early because you claimed you weren't feeling well. I didn't even question it. But now you're going above and beyond for her?"

I could hear soft sobs in the background. Selena's sobs. Perfectly timed, perfectly pitched — the kind of crying that made a man feel like a monster for standing still.

Her voice came through, muffled but clear enough, as carefully fragile as she could make it. "Dominic, maybe I should leave. I don't want to cause trouble between you and Arianna."

Dominic's voice dropped low, a visceral edge cutting through the phone that I felt in my sternum. "No one's leaving, Selena. Don't listen to her."

My chest tightened. He hadn't used that tone for me in years. That fierce, instinctive protectiveness — the voice of a man drawing a line in the sand, daring the world to cross it. He'd used it once, a long time ago, when a Valente soldier had spoken to me with too much familiarity at a dinner. Dominic had gone quiet in that terrifying way of his, and the soldier had been reassigned to a warehouse in New Jersey by morning.

Now that same ferocity belonged to someone else.

I took a deep breath, forcing my emotions down into the place where Castellano women kept the things that could destroy them. "Fine, Dominic. You're right. My mistake for asking. Don't worry — I've already left. You don't need to come back for me."

I ended the call, silencing the protests forming on his lips. The screen went dark. I set the phone face-down on the seat beside me and stared out the window as the driver pulled away from the curb, the brownstone shrinking in the side mirror until it was nothing at all.