THE MAFIA'S BROKEN STRIPPER.

THE MORNING AFTER......

The first thing I registered wasn’t the blanket or even the faint morning light filtering through the curtains. It was warmth. Solid, steady warmth pressed against me from behind.... a body curved into mine like we’d been molded that way.

For a few blissful seconds, I didn’t even want to move. My lashes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the soft glow spilling across the living room. The evidence of last night’s “Netflix and chill” marathon was scattered everywhere ....the empty popcorn bowls abandoned on the center table, the soda cans lined up like soldiers, the TV screen frozen mid-scene, casting a faint glow over the room.

And then there was Kay.

His arm was lazily slung over my waist, his breathing even and deep, his chest rising and falling against my back. He was out cold, mouth parted slightly, a faint snore escaping every few beats.

I bit down on a laugh. So much for “just one movie”, huh?

Carefully, I shifted a little, only for a warm puff of air to fan across my cheek. Hot. Damp. Morning-ish.

“Oh my God,” I whispered under my breath, scrunching my nose.

“Somebody needs a mint. Urgently.”

Almost as if he heard me through his sleep, his eyes cracked open, lids heavy, gaze still clouded with drowsiness. And yet, amusement sparked almost immediately.

“You’re one to talk,” he muttered, voice low and rough with sleep.

“I’ve been suffering from your morning dragon breath since sunrise.”

I gasped dramatically and smacked his chest, which only made him chuckle.

“Wow. Rude. First thing in the morning, and that’s how you greet me?”

He stretched lazily, arm still trapping me against him, grin spreading slow and smug.

“Good morning, princess.”

“Good morning, clown,” I shot back, narrowing my eyes.

“Mm,” he hummed, tightening his hold just enough to make me squeal.

“Clown that kept you warm all night.”

“Clown who drooled on the couch pillow,” I countered quickly, grinning.

His brows shot up.

“Lies and slander. That was condensation. Science. Look it up.”

I burst out laughing, pushing at his chest, but he only rolled with it, pulling me tighter until I was practically buried against him. His laughter rumbled low in his chest, vibrating against my cheek.

For a moment, we just stayed there, tangled up in each other, the world outside still quiet, the room smelling faintly of buttered popcorn and sleep.

“Admit it,” he murmured into my hair, his tone softer now, playful edge melting.

“Best sleepover ever.”

I smiled despite myself, my heart doing that annoying flutter it always did around him.

“Fine. Maybe.”

“Not maybe. Definitely,” he corrected, pressing his forehead against mine with a lazy grin.

We lay there for a moment longer, the silence comfortable, before he suddenly pushed himself upright with a long, lazy stretch. His arms reached high over his head, muscles shifting beneath his shirt, and the hem lifted just enough to reveal a sliver of his toned stomach. I caught myself staring and quickly looked away, heat creeping into my cheeks. It's definitely not the kind of view I needed first thing in the morning.

“Alright,” he announced with mock authority, rolling his shoulders.

“I’m fixing breakfast. You, princess, sit tight.”

My brows arched high.

“Wait.....you cook?” I teased.

He spun to face me, hand pressed dramatically over his chest.

“Wow. The disbelief in your tone? That hurt. That cut deep.”

I laughed, dragging myself up from the couch with a yawn.

“I’m just saying… I didn’t exactly peg you as the apron-wearing, spatula-wielding type.”

“Shows how little you know,” he said, flashing me a grin before turning toward the kitchen.

“Guess I’m full of surprises.”

“Mm-hm.” I shuffled after him, rubbing my eyes.

“Well, just don’t poison me, Kay. I still have dreams to chase, a future to live for. I’m far too young and gorgeous to die of food poisoning.”

He barked a laugh over his shoulder.

“Relax. You’ll be begging for seconds before I’m done.”

My lips curled mischievously.

“Seconds of food or…” I let my words trail off deliberately, biting back a grin as I leaned against the doorframe.

That made him pause. He turned halfway, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion before his mouth tugged into a smirk.

“Both,” he replied smoothly, his tone low enough to send a tiny shiver dancing down my spine.

I gasped, half laughing, and grabbed the nearest cushion off the couch.

“You’re impossible!” I hurled it at him with as much dramatic flair as I could muster.

He ducked easily, the cushion flying past him as he burst into laughter.

“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to take me down.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me,” I warned playfully, already eyeing the other cushions like ammunition.

He grinned, disappearing into the kitchen with a smug little chuckle.

“Save your energy. You will need it later."

Minutes later, I padded barefoot into the kitchen, hair still slightly messy, arms folded as I leaned lazily against the counter. The smell of butter and sizzling eggs filled the air, and there he was....whisk in hand, moving with confidence that was way too cocky for a man making something as basic as breakfast.

“So… Chef Kay,” I drawled, tilting my head as I watched him like I was critiquing a contestant on a cooking show.

“What culinary masterpiece are we being blessed with this fine morning?”

He didn’t even look up, just flicked his wrist dramatically with the whisk like some Food Network star.

“Classic eggs, toast… maybe pancakes if you behave.”

That earned a scoff from me.

“If I behave? Wow. You’re already setting conditions before feeding me? That’s giving very toxic energy, Kay.”

Finally, his eyes cut toward me, amusement dancing there, the corner of his lips twitching.

“Relax. I like my women mouthy. Keeps breakfast spicy.”

“Oh, please,” I muttered, rolling my eyes, though the grin tugging at my face betrayed me. I wandered closer, peeking over his shoulder at the pan.

He slid the first batch of scrambled eggs onto a plate, steam curling up into the air. Just as he turned to grab the toast, I reached out quickly to snatch a forkful. But before I could succeed, he smacked my hand lightly with the spatula.

“Hands off, thief,” he warned, smirk widening.

I gasped, clutching my chest like he’d wounded me.

“Excuse me? After all the stress I endured yesterday just to keep you company, this is how you repay me? With violence?”

He raised an eyebrow, lips twitching like he was fighting a laugh.

“You’re dramatic. And greedy. It's not a good combo.”

“Greedy?” I shot back, snatching the piece of toast from the counter before he could stop me. I took a slow, exaggerated bite, holding his gaze in challenge.

“No, babe… I call it survival instincts.”

That made him laugh...low and unbothered....the kind of laugh that made my stomach flutter no matter how much I tried to act unfazed. He shook his head, setting another plate down in front of me.

“Eat properly,” he said, softer this time, almost slipping into something that wasn’t just teasing. His eyes lingered on me a second too long before he turned back to the stove.

“Freshen up after breakfast… because later, I’m taking you out.”

I froze mid-bite, eyebrows rising.

“Out? Like… out out?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him as though clarifying the universe’s deepest mysteries.

He glanced up from the pan where he was flipping something with far too much confidence, one brow arching high.

“What other kind of out is there? Enlighten me.”

“You mean like…” I trailed off, twisting my fingers together before blurting, “A date?”

That earned me a slow, deliberate smirk. He slid another pancake onto the growing stack, set the spatula down with dramatic flair, and finally turned his gaze on me.

“Exactly like a date. Unless…” He leaned casually against the counter, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. “…you’d prefer to think of it as community service. You know.....me donating my valuable time to save you from boredom.”

I gasped, hand flying to my chest in exaggerated offense.

“Wow. And here I thought you were offering to feed me. Instead, I’m a charity case?”

“Hey,” he said, wagging the spatula at me like it was a pointer stick.

“Don’t twist my words. This is premium effort. These hands aren’t just for show, princess.”

My lips twitched, but I held back a laugh.

“You’re awfully cocky for someone whose pancake skills are still highly questionable.”

“Questionable?” he repeated, sounding personally attacked.

“Excuse me, but you’re about to witness greatness in motion. These pancakes will ruin you for all others.”

“Ruin me?” I finally let the laugh escape, pulling out a chair and plopping into it with a dramatic sigh.

“Fine. I’ll humor you. But fair warning....if these pancakes flop, I’m canceling that date before it even begins.”

The corners of his mouth tugged upward, his grin sharpening into something devilish.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, sliding the spatula under the sizzling batter with lazy confidence, “after last night, you’re not canceling anything.”

My jaw dropped so fast that I was certain it echoed. Heat raced up my neck, flooding my cheeks until I probably looked like a tomato.

“Kay!”

“What?” He turned just enough to throw me a deliberately innocent look that fooled no one.

“I’m just stating facts. I don’t lie about food… or anything else that is good.”

I snatched up a cushion from the chair beside me and hurled it in his direction with all the strength my embarrassment could muster. He ducked at the last second, laughter spilling out of him, rich and smug, while I buried my burning face in my hands.

The sharp trill of my phone cut through the playful energy of the kitchen, tugging me away from Kay and the smell of pancakes. Wiping my palms on my shorts, I padded toward the sitting room, the sound growing louder with each step until I spotted the phone buzzing on the couch.

The name on the screen made my stomach flip.

DEAREST MUM🤍📞

My breath hitched, pulse suddenly racing. I didn’t even hesitate.... I swiped to answer.

“Hello, Mum? Oh God.....please tell me Dad is okay?” The words rushed out of me, desperate, shaky, like they’d been waiting at the back of my throat all morning.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other end. A silence so heavy it pressed against my chest, squeezing until I thought my heart might c***k from the weight of it.

Then....finally....her voice came through.

To be continued.......