'Sometimes, home is a person.'
With much reluctance, he finally left me alone in the room to get a good night sleep, as he called it, unknown to him that I haven't had a peaceful nights sleep in years.
I sat on the floor with my legs crossed, watching the clock ticking in front of me, waiting for the perfect opportunity to make my escape. I knew that it was foolish of me to leave the man who has given me so much help, but it was to protect both of us. He shouldn't have to be obliged to help some helpless girl he had unfortunately come across. I knew that my father must have already noticed my absence and he has probably got all of his friends looking for me.
I could handle the beatings he would give me when I'm forced to return home, but I would never be able to forgive myself if something happens to an innocent man who has done nothing wrong but to help a girl who doesn't even deserve it.
I knew how this would end, as it had happened before. An elderly woman had once found me severely bruised on a park bench a couple of years ago, and I was too weak to protest when she took me to her house to get bandaged up. Long story short, my father and his friends had discovered where I was and a couple of days later, I had found a crumpled-up newspaper article in the bin with a picture of the same elderly woman who had helped me, with a bold heading saying MURDERED above it.
That was once of the worst periods of my life. My mental health had gone so low that I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror without wanting to harm myself for my mistake. It was my fault and I couldn't live with myself. I should have denied her help and tried to get away but I didn't. It was since then that I felt as if I deserved all this pain. To be treated life a criminal, because that is what I was. A criminal.
I have the opportunity to do the right thing now, and to prevent history from repeating itself.
The clock struck three am and I knew that it was time to go. The window from the room I was in was too high to jump from, so I had no choice but to escape from the front door. It was risky but I knew that I had to do this to protect him. I pulled the sleeves of the hoodie I was wearing down and tied my hair up into a messy bun.
I was ready.
I quietly tip-toed towards the door and carefully opened it, stepping onto the heated marble flooring in the hallway. As if sensing my fear of the dark, he had left some dim lights on in the hallway which guided me to the grand staircase. I quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen me and once I was sure I was alone, I descended down the stairs.
I was so close to the exit, I could see the grand door in front of me, but before I could open it, something furry touched my foot.
It was a small dog.
The dog was tiny, with big innocent eyes. It had soft fur and the cutest little nose. I gave it a smile and crouched down to pet it, before seeing a white bandage wrapped around its left leg.
As if sensing what I was looking at, it gave a heart-breaking whimper and nuzzled its head into my hand. I was usually terrified of dogs, or any animals really, but the one in front of me was just too adorable!
Suddenly, the fur ball looked up, but it wasnt at me. I didnt even have to look back to realise who it was. The man radiated so much power, everyone would struggle not to bow down to him. I was too scared to turn around. I was caught. It was time for my punishment now. I knew it was coming sooner or later. I was a fool to think that I could escape such a powerful man. Even if it was for his benefit.
I was so scared.
I bought my knees to my chest in attempt to make myself smaller, and shuffled back until my back was touching the door behind me. The tears were coming at full speed and I had trained myself to not make any noises. My arms were wrapped around myself securely, and I prepared for the worst.
This man had not shown me anything for me not to trust him, but so did my father at first. He would never hit me when I was younger, when my mother was alive, but after that, it was like a switch had been flicked on and he began to release all his anger out onto me. This man could be the same. The mistake of trying to leave could have been the thing to flip his switch and I was terrified of the consequences.
I sat there shaking, waiting for a hit, a kick, a punch, anything, but nothing came.
I lifted my head in time to see him crouched down next to me. I fiddled with my necklace with one hand and placed the other on the floor, the feel of the marble grounding me. He placed his hand close to mine, but not touching it.
I don't know how long we were sitting there for, but I eventually calmed down.
"Stai bene?", he whispered, playing with the drawstring of his joggers, almost as if he was nervous to ask.
Holding back my shock that he didn't hit me, I gave a hesitant nod and looked down at the ground as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"I know you were trying to leave", he breathed out, giving me a sad smile.
"I just...you dont need to be afraid of me. Ever. I can't even imagine what you've been through, but I can already see how brave you are", he continued.
I shook my head in denial. I was anything but brave. In fact, the dog with an injured leg laying near my feet was probably braver than me.
"I don't know how long it will take you to believe me, but I'll spend forever trying. Te lo prometto, mio girasole (I promise, my sunflower)."
We sat there in silence for a while until he let out a little laugh. I raised my head slightly, questioning his sudden change in mood and he seemed to have gotten the hint.
"I just realised that I never asked for your name", he replied, the corner of his mouth raising slightly.
Almost smiling myself, I didnt realise either. I guess I got used to the pet names he used, and honestly, I didn't want him to stop using them.
Without pen and paper, I didn't really have a way of communicating with him.
After thinking of a solution for a couple of seconds, I had an idea. Slowly, I raised my hands to my neck and flipped over the sunflower pendent.
"Liliana."
The way he said my name made goosebumps erupt across my skin and a faint blush to appear on my cheeks. No one had called me by that name except my mother and I didn't know how much I needed to hear it until he said it.
Forget the pet names, him saying my name was probably my most favourite sound. I gave him a shy nod and my cheeks felt as if they were caught on fire with the next thing he said.
"Un bel nome per un angelo (a beautiful name for an angel)."
I don't know how long we were sat there for, but the next thing I knew, I was waking up in the same bed that I was in earlier. I rubbed my eyes to get rid of the sleep and then took a chance to take a proper look around the room.
I could see the sun shining through the windows and I wondered how I got here. Judging by how bright it was already, I guessed that it was already way past the time to start making breakfast.
I leaped out of bed and made my way downstairs to try and make something before he wakes up and prayed that I was able to find my way to the kitchen fast enough.
I made my way down the stairs and looked around, not knowing where to go. I chose a direction and began walking. I could smell food and hesitantly began following the smell, hoping I was going the right way.
I reached the door and slowly opened the door. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight in front of me.
There he was in all his glory, with his back faced towards me. He had on a pair of grey joggers that hung loosely on his hips and whilst he was clothed on his bottom half, his chest was bare. I could see the muscles on his back flex as he mixed what looked like pancake mix. He wore a chain around his neck and his rings looked as if they were sparkling in the morning light.
Before I could look away, he turned around and a smile danced across his lips.
"Buongiorno tesoro (good morning sweetheart)", he said whilst putting a white t-shirt on, unfortunately covering his well-toned chest – I almost frowned.
I gave a quick nod and he smiled. He gestured for me to sit down on a chair and I sat down, awkwardly watching him.
He gracefully moved around the kitchen and continued to cook breakfast. The radio was on a low volume in the background and the smell of delicious food was wafting around the room.
He plated up the pancakes and dressed it with chocolate, strawberries, and whipped cream, before setting it on the table in front of me.
It looked mouth-watering.
The food looked and smelt so tasty and it was torture waiting for him to eat his food in front of me.
I should be more grateful. At least he fed me a meal that should be able to keep me going for a couple of days; thats a lot more than what my father would do. I can't expect him to keep wasting his money on feeding me when I didnt need to eat every day.
"What's wrong, bella? Do you not like pancakes?", he said with a frown.
"Merda. Sapevo che avrei dovuto chiederglielo prima (Shit. I knew I should have asked her first)", he muttered under his breath whilst looking around to see what other food there was.
He began rummaging around the fridge and cupboards and I began shaking my head to make him stop but he couldnt see.
I got up off my seat and walked towards him. My hand was close to touching his arm to gain his attention but I just couldn't do it.
"Thank you, sir", I whispered, hoping he was able to hear me.
He turned his head around so fast that Im surprised he didnt get whiplash. He looked shocked and I thought he was angry at me for coming this close to him without his permission.
I slowly backed away until my back hit the wall behind me. My hands began to sweat when I saw him hesitantly approach me, but he didn't even come close to me. He stood at a good distance for me to not freak out even more and looked at me as if I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
"Per favor call me Luca", he said in a strained voice, his hand running through his fluffy hair.
He slightly gestured his hand towards the table and I scurried to the seat I was in before. There was only one plate and so when he sat down in front of me, I moved the plate towards him.
He shook his head and pushed the plate back to me, handing me a knife and fork in the process. He also handed me a glass of water before asking me to try the stack of pancakes he had prepared.
Shyly, I cut a little piece and placed it on my fork. I bought it up to my mouth and my tastebuds went to heaven. The pancakes were soft and fluffy and the chocolate complemented it completely, whilst the strawberries and whipped cream added to the freshness of it, preventing it from being too sickly.
I noticed that he wasnt eating so I gave him the plate.
"It's for you, tesoro", he said, looking from the plate back to me.
I cut a chunk out from the pancake stack and mounted it onto the fork. I put it onto the plate and passed it over to him. He gave a smile and bought the fork up to his mouth; his lips wrapped around the fork and finished the bite.
We continued in a similar way, by me eating a bite then preparing a bite on the fork for him. By the time we were done, I felt as if I was going to explode. I didn't realise how much food I had eaten until I had finished and I had never felt so full before.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a little fur ball limping towards me and I crouched down to carry it into my arms. I gave it a little belly rub and cuddled it into my arms.
Whilst I was distracted, he slyly got up from the table and collected the dirty plate, cutlery and glass from the table and bought it to the sink. I shook my head in protest, trying to tell him that I'll wash up but it was no use.
He washed up the dishes and then came to me to say something, but the doorbell rang and he signalled me to wait here whilst he answered the door.
Who could it be?
Could it be my father and his friends looking for me? Did they find out where I was?
I didn't have to wait long to find out, because he walked back into the kitchen with a girl that I recognised.
'Lily?'