His Prisoner

I woke up to a strange feeling. Firstly, this bed isn’t mine, it felt more comfortable and then definitely larger as I rolled from one side to the other. I quickly opened my eyes panic shooting through me wondering where I was, and that was when the events of last night came rushing back.

I was a prisoner. Lorenzo’s prisoner.

I rolled unto unto my back, staring at the ceiling. Last night, I had expected Lorenzo to hit me after the way I spoke to him but he surprised me by just showing me to this room. And I never saw him again.

My eyes burned from all the tears that I shed last night. I cried until I had no more strength in me and my tears seemed to have dried. I had expected Lorenzo to come over and try to force me into sleeping with him, but he didn’t. Although I locked the door from inside but I doubt if that would have stopped him. This was his house after all.

I sat up on the bed as my stomach made a rumbling sound. Before he left last night, Lorenzo had asked if I was hungry but I was too angry to eat, so I told him no. Now I wished I didn’t. Taking a deep breath, I looked around the room.

It was grand, and luxurious. The bed I had woken up in was massive, with soft, silky sheets that felt foreign against my skin. Heavy velvet drapes hung from floor-to-ceiling windows. Opposite the bed stood a wardrobe larger than my entire bedroom back home.

Home. Was Mom worried about me? And Elena too. I wish I had my phone, I would called to let  them know I was okay, at least I was pretending to be. I must have dropped my phone when I was trying to get away from Lorenzo’s men.

Sighing, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet sinking into the thick carpet beneath. My movements were slow, reluctant. A sense of dread hovered over me, knowing that at any moment, my captor could reappear.

I dragged myself to the ensuite bathroom, my bare feet padding softly across the cool marble floor. The bathroom was as grand as the bedroom—white and gold fixtures, a claw-foot bathtub in the center, and a glass-enclosed rain shower to the side.

I felt like a mess, and when I caught a glimpse of myself in the vanity mirror, it only confirmed it. My hair was tangled, and my eyes were red and puffy from crying all night.

A new toothbrush sat neatly next to a tube of toothpaste on the counter, as if someone had anticipated I’d need one. I grabbed it and brushed my teeth. When I was done, I splashed cold water on my face, hoping it will help clear some of the exhaustion, but I still looked like someone I barely recognized.

With a sigh, I glanced around, hoping for a change of clothes, but there was nothing. My dress from last night was ruined, and I so badly wanted to be out of it. I splashed more water on my face before I stepped out of the bathroom. I wanted to remain locked up in here, but I was starving, and my growling stomach left me with no choice but to go downstairs and face whatever awaited me.

I made my way down the sweeping staircase, gripping the railing as my heart raced, expecting to see Lorenzo. The scent of sizzling bacon hit me the moment I reached the bottom of the stairs, pulling me toward the source like I was in a trance.

Just like the rest of the house, the kitchen was vast with white marble countertops and state-of-the-art appliances lined the walls. An enormous island sat in the center, while copper pots and pans hung from an overhead rack. Lorenzo wasn’t here.

Behind the stove stood a woman who seemed to be in her mid-fifties, her silver-streaked hair tied in a neat bun. She was flipping the bacon in the pan, humming softly to herself, completely oblivious to my presence until I cleared my throat.

She turned, her face lighting up with a warm, motherly smile. "Good morning, dear. You must be Mr. Gonzalez’s guest." she said kindly.

Guest? I’m his prisoner! I wanted to scream but bit down on my tongue. “I’m Maria, Mr. Gonzalez’s housekeeper. Would you like something to eat?”

“Lucia. And yes please. Is he around? Mr. Lorenzo.”

Her smile widened. “No, he already left for work. Have a seat, I will serve you a plate,” she said gesturing to one of the stools by the island.

I pulled out a stool and sat down, and she placed a plate filled with bacon and fried egg in front of me. “Thanks,” I mumbled as I immediately dug in. The last time I had a meal was during my lunch break yesterday and was almost twenty-four hours ago.

“Easy, or you’re going to choke,” Maria said laughing as she walked over to the coffee pot. “Coffee?”

I nodded in response, my mouth too full to speak. “Cream?” she asked and I nodded again.

“Thanks Maria,” I said as I polished off my plate. Maria looked at me with amusement as she stood by the stove.

“You’re welcome. It’s good to see someone enjoy my cooking. Mr. Gonzalez, is barely around to eat the meals I make him.”

I could see that she didn’t like her boss so much, so an idea came to me. “Maria, do you by any chance have a phone I could use to make a quick phone call?” Maybe I could dial 911 and the police would come rescue me.

Maria’s face pulled into a disapproving frown as she shook her head as if knowing what I was thinking.

“Mr. Gonzalez, instructed me not to do that.”

“Of course,” I muttered under my breath, the tiny hope I had shattering. “But could you at least borrow me some clothes to change into, or did he ask you not to do that too?”