Bratva Boss’s Secret Triplets by Bella King
Chapter 28
Rebel
In my pursuit of the address written on the receipt, I’ve spent the last twenty minutes driving in circles in what feels like an endless maze of subdivisions and McMansions.
Nothing to scoff at for the average man, I’m sure. I’ve gotten quite out of touch with the way that the common person lives, and houses like this would usually register to me as being typical of a middle-income household. I’m under the impression that I might be wrong.
When I finally arrive at the house, I’m surprised to see that it appears to be better maintained and more ornate than the rest of the houses I’ve seen. Still not as nice as mine, of course. But I commend the person who lives here, whoever they are.
I park on the street and make my way up the sidewalk to the front door. When I ring the doorbell, part of me is convinced I won’t get an answer and that I should just leave. People with nice houses usually have to work. Why would they be here?
To my surprise, the door opens within twenty seconds or so. I’m greeted by a pleasant but secretive-looking man, probably in his mid-sixties. “Um, hello, can I help you?” he says, looking me up and down like I’m a predatory animal.
“Yes, actually. I’m wondering if you would be familiar with this transaction right here,” I reply as I show him the receipt for the ring. For a moment, he looks somewhat confused, and I grow discouraged.
“Oh! Right, I remember this one. It’s a ring I had purchased a few years ago. What could you possibly want with it?” he asks, not in a confrontational manner but with genuine confusion.
“Is it alright if we talk inside?” I reply, hoping that my appearance won’t deter him from speaking with me. It’s in situation like this that I’m at a clear disadvantage.
“Yes, of course,” the old man says, gesturing toward the inside of the house.
When I walk in, I’m amazed to find a huge collection of jewelry lining the front hallway. There are cases upon cases of extravagant and superfluously expensive jewelry, all being displayed in glass boxes along the wall.
“So, I’m less confused now. You collect jewelry, yeah?” I ask, feeling hopeful.
“How did you guess?” he replies sincerely.
I shrug. Maybe he doesn’t realize how obvious it is. “Intuition.”
He leads me into a large living room with a vaulted ceiling and wall-to-wall bay windows. There is a whole other collection of similarly-displayed jewelry in this room as well. This guy must be fucking loaded.
“So, what can I help you with? My name is John, by the way,” he says as he extends his hand out for a handshake. My hand meets his, and I feel as though we’re now on more common ground, both men with tons of money and even more secrets.
“I’m wondering if you still have this ring and if I can see it. I’d like to buy it from you,” I reply. John gazes out the window in concentration.
“Yes, I believe I still have it. I’ll have to search a bit, though. As you can see, I have quite a lot of places where it could be living right now,” he says, smiling. “Just give me a moment, I can get you some coffee while you wait.”
He comes back with a cup of coffee, and I’m not in the mood to tell him that I don’t really drink coffee, but given his hospitality in the face of a total stranger, I decide to drink it anyway.
It isn’t nearly as bad as I remember it being, and there are small oily swirls glistening on top of the liquid. Given the state of this man’s house, I’m willing to bet that means it’s good shit.
John returns from a lofted upstairs bedroom gripping the ring in his left hand. He brings it over to me, and even before I get a really good look at it, I know it’s valuable. But what does this have to do with April? Where would she get something like this, and why would she pawn it?
“So, what can you tell me about this ring?” I ask. He’s got to have some kind of in-depth knowledge of the pieces he buys, at least that would make sense to me.
“It’s definitely an older piece for sure, and it probably served as a wedding band in its past life,” he replies, showing me the details of the metalwork. “There’s a rare gemstone embedded as well, which tells me that it likely belonged to somebody of high social status,” he continues, turning the ring over to show me the smokey, deep red stone.
“Do you know anything about the person who sold it to the shop?” I ask, more confused than ever. I thought April was from a bumfuck town in Ohio? How did she get ahold of something like this?
“Unfortunately not, all I know is that she was a pretty typical down-on-her-luck young woman who needed some fast cash. Didn’t seem like the drug-doing type, I can only imagine what she must have needed it for,” he says, pondering the memory of purchasing the ring from April at the pawn shop.
I try to envision it with him, wondering what April would have looked like a few years younger, thinking of what kind of situation she had gotten herself into.
“I’d like to buy it from you,” I say, trying to maintain eye contact with him in order to sell myself as being trustworthy and sincere.
“I doubt you can afford it, son,” he replies, smirking at me like I’m a naïve little kid.
Little does he know, I’ve brought ten grand in cash with me. It’s pocket change for me at this point, but getting to the bottom of April’s secrecy is invaluable to me. I need to understand her better, and I need to know if I can trust her.
I pull the roll of cash out of my pocket. “There’s ten thousand dollars here. I can get more if you need me to, but I deal in cash only,” I say.
He looks at me with astonishment and surprise, taking the roll of money out of my hand. “Consider it yours, I suppose,” he says as he counts the money.
I’m not surprised he feels the need to double-check it, and I don’t feel offended by it.
He hands me the ring. “Do you need a box for it? I have a million of them,” he asks as he gets up to retrieve a little velvet ring box.
I figure he thinks I’m trying to buy it to propose to somebody, but giving it a safe place to stay isn’t a bad idea either.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” I reply as I take the box from him. The black velvet and the red stone complement each other beautifully. If I was going to propose to somebody, a ring like this would definitely come to mind.
“Well, I’d love to continue our conversation, but I have a doctor’s appointment in an hour and traffic has been a bitch lately. Can I show you out?” he says as we both get up.
I’m shocked that anything has come of my little escapade, and I have a difficult time concealing my anticipation. Confrontation isn’t something I tend to shy away from.
