Page 1 of The Don's Prisoner

Chapter one

Victoria

I raised an eyebrow at my intern, watching him squirm as he struggled to give me the answer I wanted, debating whether it was the correct one or not. Guy stammered and almost dropped the wedding dress he was carrying, which made me want to strangle him, but I refrained. He was young and new to the wedding dress design business and just needed to be taught. Sometimes I forgot that I myself had started out exactly where he was only five years before.

Besides, he really wasn’t that bad. I was just being picky and possibly a little bitchy.

Maybe.

Okay, I was being completely bitchy, but it wasn’t entirely my fault. I had just found out that the fabric provider I worked with was out of the pearl satin that I needed for my most popular dress—which he had neglected to tell me—and my sales team had already gone ahead and taken orders for five identical dresses in that fabric for five different brides. Now I had no choice but to change the fabric of the dresses and hope that those five brides either wouldn’t notice or would love the change.

Or, I could find a new fabric provider. But that was yet another headache I didn’t even want to entertain.

Guy crouched and handed me the dress, bunching up the train that was dragging on the floor and piling it in my arms.

“I am so sorry,” he apologized for probably the hundredth time. “I just… I don’t know what’s going on this morning. Between the deliveries that need to go out, the bride who keeps calling and begging to be one of your models for the bridal expo on Saturday, and the strange man sitting in your office, I’m about ready to pull my hair out!”

I blinked at him and turned to my left so I could hang up the dress before it could wrinkle any more than it already had. I was certain that my seamstress could get the wrinkles out, but I didn’t want to make it any harder for her.

When I was sure the train wasn’t touching the floor anymore, I turned back to Guy who was standing there, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was getting a headache. His spiky black hair was sticking out every which way in a styled manner and coated in so much glitter that I could watch float it down to rest on the shoulder of his purple suit. I had thought about telling him to ditch the glitter, but I didn’t have the heart to. He was finally enjoying his creativity and freedom after coming from such a strict “old school” family. Who was I to kill his joy?

That said, every dress he touched ended up with glitter on it, which was becoming very annoying to get out according to Diana, the seamstress. She was not a fan of Guy specifically for this reason.

Maybe I could just suggest a little less glitter? Or maybe a glitter hairspray?

“Relax, Guy. I’m the one who should be freaking out, not you,” I sighed and walked to the full rack of dresses to my left. My showroom was full of racks, and all of them were filled with dresses in bags, ready to be shipped to the many stores that carried my designs. I was in the middle of going through them all to make sure the dresses on the rack matched the order list. I trusted no one but myself to do this, as I had had a few issues before with orders going to the wrong places.

If Guy were a little more level-headed, I might have trusted him to do it. He certainly cared enough.

“I will take care of the deliveries right now, just ignore the bride, she will give up calling eventually, and… wait… you said there was someone waiting for me in my office?” I asked, turning from the rack to Guy. He thought for a moment, then smiled.

“Yes, a very handsome and muscular man. Are you seeing someone new?” he asked.

I was, actually. Rex McMillon. I had been seeing him for about three months now, but he had never come to my place of work before. I didn’t even know if I had even mentioned to him what I did for work. Well, I must have, since most of my life revolves around wedding dresses and fabrics, but I couldn’t recall for certain.

Though on the flip side, I knew he was wealthy because he had invented an app or something, but I wasn’t quite sure what he did for work either, if anything. Maybe he was a TikTok star? A Youtuber? I was pretty sure he was an influencer of some sort because he had made mention that his “fame” wouldn’t interfere with our relationship. Of course, he was shocked when I said I had never heard of him before we met at the coffee shop down the street, and I had no idea who he was.

That seemed to be one of the things he liked about me the most.

“Yes,” I responded to Guy, “but I doubt it’s him in my office. I haven't told him where I worked, and I can’t see him buying a wedding dress either. Did this person say if they had an appointment or not?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t let him in. I just passed the office on my way here and saw him in there,” he explained, waving a hand in the air. “I was so happy I did, though. That man is scrumptious! I bet he is Trouble with a capital “T,” though. Any guy with hair that blond and eyes that blue simply cannot be trusted.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in through my nose, letting it out slowly through my mouth. No, it definitely wasn’t Rex. He had long black hair and dark eyes. I did have a feeling I knew who it was though.

“Any chance this guy was about six feet tall? Wearing a black and red suit with a tie hanging loosely from his neck and a matching fedora like he’s trying to be an eighties gangster?” I asked. The shock that passed over Guy’s face was enough of an answer for me.

“Yes! How did you know? Though the suit was gold and black… and the fedora was on your desk.”

“Perfect. His name is Vito, and he is my brother. My twin brother,” I told Guy. His eyes went wide.

“Oh… I ummm… I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry for saying he was scrumptious… I didn’t know…”

I just walked away from my stammering, embarrassed intern. I figured it was the best thing for him and would save him the embarrassment of trying to explain himself to me. I didn’t care if he had the hots for my brother. Many people over the years had. Just as there were plenty of people who had gone after me—though I was less inclined to accept any advances. I had my career to think about.

All Vito cared about was the women he could sleep with, the money he could gamble with, and the alcohol he could drink. I had argued with him until I was blue in the face over it, but nothing ever changed. He was an adult, and he was going to do what he wanted, regardless of how I felt.

I approached my office, my heels clicking on the tile floor. I could already see him through the glass walls, sprawled out on my blue suede couch. The hat he so adored, even if it was terribly out of fashion, balanced on one knee. I straightened the neckline of my green silk shirt, stepped through the doorway, and turned to him with my hands on my hips, not even bothering with closing the door myself. It swung shut on its own, blocking out the noise from the showroom floor. The silence was almost deafening as I stared at him, and he smiled back at me like nothing was wrong.

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