Unconventional

Owned

Jennifer was startled awake by a rough hand shaking her shoulder. It was still dark outside, the faintest sliver of morning light just beginning to creep through the curtains. Her body was sore, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, but Emilio's voice cut through the haze.

"Get up," he growled.

She blinked, disoriented, trying to focus on his looming figure standing over the bed. "What—what time is it?"

"Doesn't matter," he snapped, yanking the blanket off her. The cold air hit her like a slap. "You've got work to do. The house isn't going to clean itself."

Jennifer groaned inwardly, pulling herself up, her body protesting with every movement. "It's barely morning," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "Can't it wait?"

"No, it can't," Emilio barked, his tone hard and unforgiving. "I want this place spotless by the time the sun's up. So get moving, lazy."

She threw her legs over the side of the bed, her muscles aching from the previous day's chores. As she stood, Emilio was already halfway out of the room, not waiting for her to respond.

Downstairs, the house was eerily quiet, the stillness only broken by the soft hum of the refrigerator. Jennifer grabbed the mop and bucket from the hall closet, filling it with water and soap, her mind still clouded with sleep. She moved through the kitchen, then the living room, mopping the cold, hard floors as the minutes ticked by slowly.

Her body moved on autopilot, her arms and legs heavy with fatigue. She barely had time to wipe the sleep from her eyes before Emilio reappeared, leaning against the doorframe, watching her like a hawk.

"Faster," he barked. "You're dragging your feet. You've got more to do than just mop."

Jennifer's hands tightened on the mop handle, frustration bubbling inside her, but she stayed silent. There was no point in arguing. It never went anywhere.

"After this, I want the bathrooms scrubbed, too," Emilio added, his voice carrying through the empty room. "And don't think you're slacking off on the laundry, either."

Jennifer bit her lip, forcing herself to nod, trying not to let the bitterness rise to the surface. She kept her eyes on the floor, moving the mop in steady motions, though her hands trembled slightly from the anger she was holding back.

"You know," Emilio said, his voice suddenly softer, almost mocking, "if you weren't so lazy, maybe this wouldn't take you so long. But no, you're too busy feeling sorry for yourself."

Jennifer's jaw clenched, but she didn't respond. She had learned to let his words wash over her like water—insults that were meant to sting, but she couldn't afford to let them sink in anymore.

"You can thank me later," Emilio said with a smirk. "For helping you get an early start on your day. Maybe this'll remind you how to actually do your job around here."

With that, he turned and left, leaving Jennifer alone with the mop in her hands and a house full of chores waiting to be done before the day had even begun.

——————

The kitchen was filled with the quiet sizzle of eggs frying in the pan, the smell of toast browning in the toaster. Jennifer focused on her task, moving robotically as she prepared breakfast. Her eyes were fixed on the skillet, her back turned to the door, hoping if she ignored Emilio long enough, he might leave her in peace.

But she could feel his presence before he even spoke. The heavy silence in the room was suffocating.

"You think you can just ignore me now?" Emilio's voice cut through the air, low and dangerous.