The Four Mafia Men and Their Prize

Chapter 81

81 Bloody Hell

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$457310

Aurora POV

The black room.

The name itself makes me involuntarily shiver as Stephen, the sperm donor traitor, drags me behind

him in an iron grip. As much as I try to struggle against him, the restraints binding my arms behind my

back make it significantly harder to fight him.

He takes me down the flight of cement stairs that were behind a thick metal door, like a safe. The dark

amber lighting against the pale grey cement gives stark contrast and as we reach the bottom, a stench

like rotten eggs and cow feet permeates my nose making me gag. I will never complain about smelling

Brussels sprouts again.

Stephen drags me through a large hallway. We pass by several large red oak doors with equally large

and heavy–looking metal latches. We pass by a few hallways that probably lead to

more rooms. This place is a labyrinth. I try to focus on the path that Stephen is taking. But I lose my

focus when I hear the rustling of chains echoing in the corridors. You can hear faint feminine screaming

like a high–pitched whistle. My heartbeat quickens at the thought of what is in store for me.

Before I know it, we come to the end of the last hallway. The door in front of us is the only one in this

alcove. A heavy door with an advanced metal locking system and you guessed it, colored black.

Stephen, without letting go of my arm, goes to a control panel on the side of the wall and like a James

Bond movie, some high–tech panel comes out. He puts his palm on the scanner and then does a

retinal scan before the panel disappears into the wall.

I can’t help but gawk and my smart mouth just opens: “What are we entering? Narnia? Fort Knox? Area

51? Oh, I know! Opera’s secret lair?” Stephen gives me a sideways glance and an eye roll as the locks

click open and the door swings toward us.

“You forgot to say Open Sesame dipshit!” I mutter to Stephen, digging my heels in the ground because

dreaming is so going to happen,

*For your good, just please shut up Aurora,” the sperm donor warns close to my ear as he continues to

drag me inside.

It’s pitch black. Literally. The only light seeping into the room is from the lights outside the door. I can

barely make out a silhouette of a chair. Shit, not again. Not another sensory deprivation room.

I begin to light the man holding me with even more vigor. But Stephen just guides me to this chair,

pushes me down to sit, and then swiftly reaches behind me to unlock my cuffs. I tried to push him out

of my way, but he effortlessly pushed me down and had one of my arms shackled to the chair before I

could even contemplate what was happening. He used his weight to push against my legs so I couldn’t

kick him and my not–so–subtle attempt to flail my free arm around like one of those balloon people at a

car dealership was halted quickly.

*Please! Don’t do this,” I beg. I continue to struggle against the harsh iron manacles on my wrists. I am

on the verge of a panic attack. The clanking sound against the chair was almost deafening to me. My

heartbeat quickened like it was about to jump out of my breastplate and run a marathon. I could barely

make out Stephen’s features as most of the light was blocked by his tall figure.

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My blurry vision is now sharp. My hazy brain is now alert and now on oventive. I whip my head from

side to side

trying to look at the monster, strands of my hair sicting to my neck and fire. The pitch black

Now there are a few lights on. I am still in a chair, funny enough black and the rasy iron, also black

manacles Be what you see in pirate movies are still securely on my weiss

A faint purple color is appearing around the eips of the cuffs. The room is Black Black wall, black

ceiling, even black floor. He wasn’t kidding when he said black room. The room doen’t look too large

but I can’t see sucules facing closer to the door, which is black. Shocking As I continue to try to look

around. I see a salad plate–shed sher drain not too far away from my feet drilled into the foot

Oh shit.

I started thrashing again, ignoring the ever–growing burning pain in my wrists, but soon strong as came

upon my shoulders and pressed on them firmly, making me stop. I felt warm breath on my exposed

neck. “Scared?” He spoke and I nearly jumped out of my skin with a small yelp.

“Shhh. It’s okay love. It’s only been a few days. He continued saying weet nothings and tried to

reassure me, petting my head lightly. My breathing finally steadied after a fer moments.

He comes in front of me with a black stool and sits down, he spreads his tall legs wide and brings his

knees to touch my outer legs, casing me in. He rests his big calloused lanky hands on my thighs and

starts rubbing them. His face cast

81- Bloody Hell

in a bit of shadow.

“Get. Your. Filthy. Fucking. Hands. Off. Me!” I seethe in anger between my teeth with a clenched jaw.

My voice was hoarse and my throat was sore and chapped. Of course he didn’t listen. He just smiled

and cocked his head to the side, watching me.

“You are too cute when you are angry. Like a puppy!” He cooed and bopped my nose with his finger. If

looks could kill, I would have just popped his brain like a watermelon with a jackhammer.

Maybe when he frees me I will accidentally on purpose kick him in the fucking balls repeatedly and say

I tripped? Yeah, that should work. I smile at my little savage plan. No babies for this knucklefucker! Cue

an inner evil laugh.

But my inner scheming is cut short when he leans over and kisses my cheeks. He surprisingly puts a

water bottle to my lips and I take hearty sips of water greedily, almost finishing the whole thing. I feel so

much better.

“Oh love,” he says exhaustedly, “we have so much to catch up on.”

“Nah, I’m good. I don’t socialize with people who have sticks up their ass!” I spit out. Damn, I need to

bite my tongue.

There is a pause. He just looks at me and then a chuckle. Now a full–on booming laugh! If he hadn’t

already repulsed me. I would have said his laugh was beautiful.

He gets up and walks behind me again only to return with something small and silver in his hand.

My eyes bug out when I realize what it is: A scalpel. A fucking scalpel!

I guess there is no more foreplay for either of us. The shit just got real. “Um, Sir, w–what are you d–d–

doing?” I begin to freak out.

As he sits back down in front of me, he twirls the small knife in front of me, so casually. He takes a few

moments before he answers me. He watched me as I tried to will my body to be consumed by the chair

I was in.

“You are mine Aurora. You have been mine since before you were born. I have waited a long time for

you.” He continued to play with the knife in front of him.

“You keep saying that. I don’t understand! I am not yours!” I say loudly, my anger getting the better of

me. I am frankly disturbed.

Sweety, you are! I will tell you everything dear. But first I need to do something. He says casually. I

notice an evil glint in his eyes and before I can say anything else, he takes the scalpel and plunges it in

the side of my leg.

Pain. White hot pain. I scream as he pulls it out vigorously and warm red liquid bursts out and begins to

paint the floor below. That was for trying to escape.” He seethes behind his clenched jaw. “BLOODY

HELL!” I grit between my teeth. This was a bloody fucking hell. Damn, that hurts.

Yep, I am definitely going to kick him in the balls as soon as I am free. Maybe I’ll take that scalpel and

peel his dick like a banana. Bloody hell that hurts.

“You look so good covered in red! Blood suits you. He says adoringly as I pant through the searing pain

pulsing in my leg and he holds up the bloody scalpel in front of me: “Now, I am going to tell you

everything. So where to begin? Oh

81- Bloody Hell

yes! Once upon a time…”

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