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The sizzling of the porridge mixture on the stove blends with the birds chirping, signifying a beautiful new day. Soft music plays from the speaker on the island, my hips swaying to the beat.
After a better night's sleep than I've had in the past (and some good fuck-me-to-sleep type sex), I can't help the smile that grows on my face or the bit of energy that rushes through me.
Everything happened over the span of two days and now, a week later, I'm refreshed and ready to get on with my life.
Naturally, I'm excited.
"Never seen you dance before, my love." Luca's voice gravitates from the doorway of the kitchen and my smile widens.
With my hand still mixing the grits, I turn to him, "Danced last night." I tease. He laughs at my joke and steps toward me before wrapping his arms around my body.
"Smells good." He kisses my neck, "Polenta?"
"Grits actually." I correct, turning so his lips can capture mine. He holds my chin in place and runs his tongue over my bottom lip. I pull away with a smile, "Just making sure our guest gets a hot breakfast."
He chuckles, "Very hospitable."
"I know." I joke, "Thank you for noticing." With that, I turn the stove off and cover the pot to conduct the heat, "It's ready and our guest has been waiting a while."
"Lead the way, amore."
•••
I had to resist the urge to skip down the hallways and winding stairs down into the dark, drab dungeon that I haven't been in for a week since we showed our guest where he'll be spending his stay.
I was just too excited to take back my control and turn it around on him. But then again, who can blame me?
Luca, as the gentleman he is, opens the door and motions for me to step inside, the pot still hot in my hand. Standing inside are some security guards keeping watch over our guest and said guest sat in the center, head bowed and body slumped, already showing signs of malnutrition.
Good. I'm sure he'll enjoy this meal then.
His arms are tied to ropes hanging from the ceiling, nails pulled from the nail beds, patches of skin missing, a bruised and swollen face.
At the sound of the heavy metal door slamming closed, the familiar face flies up to stare at us. His eyes squint as he tries to fight his delirium.
"Hi Matthew." I greet and step toward him, my tone lowering when I spot Luca lean back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hungry?"
