The Four Mafia Men and Their Prize by M C

6 – Oh My Sweet Potatoes
Aurora POV

Blackness. That is the first thing I recognized.

My eyes felt like pounds of bricks on my face. My head felt like I was hungover. My b o d y feels so sore, like I haven’t moved in days. A constant thumping pressure from my temples. I try to move my hands to my face only to be stopped by a clinking sound and pressure on my wrists above my head. Cuffs? I pull my hands a few more times but there is no release.

I take a breath and try to open my eyes to see where I am. My eyes still feel too heavy like the darkness wants to consume me once again. I focus on my other senses. I don’t want to fall back into darkness.

I am lying down. Maybe I am in bed? I wiggle my b o d y slowly, feeling my joints strain and my muscles ache. “Ugh” I moan out. I try to move my ankles only to feel the same restrictive pressure on my ankles stopping my movements. I huff out an angry breath. This is just great, sarcastically of course.

My head still feels like a balloon filled with ice. The sharp burn behind my eyes doesn’t help the now burning sensation on my wrists as I continue to pull at the restraints. I shake my head from side to side trying to relieve the pressure.

Ugh! This is so frustrating; I think to myself. Where the h e l l am I? What the f u c k happened? My mind is still a bit foggy, so I allow myself a few moments to let my b o d y readjust. I notice first my throat feels dry like sandpaper, almost as if I walked a marathon in the desert.

I try to swallow some spittle, although it does absolutely nothing to quench my thirst. What the h e l l happened?

scream. I remember. It all comes back to me like Noah and the flood! I was at work. I was called to speak with the bosses after I made them hamburgers. Those men… No, not just men; Greek Gods sculpted from the finest marble.

to breathe a little heavier. I pull on the restraints again, like a madwoman. They

my surroundings. It’s not like I have anywhere else to

Like a cloud. I feel something on top of most of my b o d y, keeping in the warmth like a hug. If circumstances were different, I definitely would ask where I could get such a glorious mattress. Netflix and I would become best friends if I had this mattress in my place. My head

move my head slightly and can brush my cheek against my arm. I smell vanilla on me. It’s a warm and calming scent like freshly baked cupcakes on a Sunday afternoon. I have always loved this scent. My nose is consumed by this endearing fragrance, lifting

blurry haze of such a deep sleep. There is a soft amber glow illuminating the room. I take in my surroundings. I am definitely in a bed, four poster king size bed with a deep rich mahogany wood. The room is brown earthy tones with dark red

with intricate wood carvings and burgundy red accent pillows and luscious matching red carpet frame the space around it. A large glass and mahogany table in the middle. A vase of 6 dozen or so

and I can barely see to my

long mahogany dresser, also with an intricate pattern on the edges and a very large flat screen television flush

my eyes, are you kidding me? Straight above me is a full size mirror the

and my hair is braided. I never braid my hair. The restraints on my arms are brown and thick and connected to a post in the headboard. While my wrists are close together above my head, the thick bands make it almost impossible for me to move my wrists. There is no way I can reach my

almost completely n a k e d. I can feel under the sheets that I only have on my black lace bra and matching thin panties on as my bare legs and torso rub on the silk