Bratva Boss’s Secret Triplets by Bella King
Chapter 31
April
“Isn’t this exciting! Never thought I’d see you again, April. How are the babies doing?”
Dr. Ryan has me zip-tied to a chair in the basement of his obnoxiously elaborate house. It’s clear to me that he’s involved in some kind of criminal activity, aside from the fact that he’s holding me hostage, of course. Even for a doctor with his own practice, this house is too elegant, too distinguished.
“Dr. Paul! Always so good at getting the ladies to trust you, huh? You’re really on to of your game recently,” Dr. Ryan says gleefully, almost maniacally.
“It’s not hard when they think you’re going to help them with something. Bitches always think everything comes for free,” Dr. Paul replies, gesturing to me and rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, maybe it’s a good thing you won’t have to worry about bitches asking for favors anymore,” Dr. Ryan says, his affect changing from bright to serious that it sends chills down my spine.
Before Dr. Paul can reply, Dr. Ryan pulls a gun from inside his coat and fires it at Dr. Paul’s head three times. His head explodes from the shots, spraying blood and grey matter all over the vicinity and onto my face and hair.
I don’t know how many more executions I can watch before I’m permanently broken. Dean’s was bad enough, but at least there was a pane of glass between me and his exploding head. With Dr. Paul, I can’t say the same, but at I have no sympathy for crooked doctors.
I look up from Dr. Paul’s lifeless body, glaring at Dr. Ryan. “What the fuck do you want?”
I’ve run out of negotiation tactics. For now, I’m just going to play dumb and go limp until something happens. I feel like I’m a frog in a frying pan at this point. Something is going to hurt, but I don’t know when.
“What makes you think I’d tell you? That seems awfully counter-productive,” he replies with an aggravating note of feigned confusion. “Actually, I don’t think it matters either way. I don’t need to keep you alive, and it’s not like you can run away screaming to your ape of a boyfriend, so I’ll do you the honors and let you know how you come into play here.”
Can’t wait.
“So, after you came to me pregnant with triplets, I was notified that they might be the bastard hellspawn of one of my most powerful rivals. I believe you know him by the name of Rebel, yes? The Russian?” he continues.
Of course this has something to do with Rebel. Rebel was sent from hell as karmic penance for all the wrong I’ve done in every lifetime. He has brought me nothing but pain.
“Yes, I know him,” I reply dryly.
“Oh, I’m sure you know him quite well,” he says with a terrifying grin that reawakens my fight or flight response.
My central nervous system is flinging all kinds of electrical signals through my muscles that I’m unable to set free. I’ve never felt so claustrophobic in my life.
“Anyway, he has some information about one of my political rivals who is fighting me over my ability to build another clinic. As I’m sure you know, my last building was blown up in a terrible accident. So sad about that one kid. What was his name? Whatever, who cares,” he continues, pacing back and forth in a circuit like a caged, starved tiger presented with a fresh kill.
“You know Rebel will flip out as soon as he realizes I’m gone,” I blurt against my better judgement.
“Correct! And I have something that he wants now, so he’ll have no choice but to either give up the information or die trying to save you and your babies,” Dr. Ryan says gleefully.
I could have never imagined that he could be the kind of person to seem so… unhinged.
The zip ties are too tight around my wrists, and I can feel the circulation in my hands suffering as pinpricks turn to static in my veins.
Even just the sensation of being trapped is sending me into a panic despite my best efforts to remain calm. I can’t let either of them know that I’m any more emotionally vulnerable than they already assume I am just because I’m pregnant.
“Are you done now? You can stop fighting me any time. It will make things go much easier for you. Help me help you,” he says, somehow turning on a sincere, trustworthy persona like a light switch.
I’m smarter now, and I refuse to trust him no matter how many times he tries to trick me. I nod cautiously.
“Eh, doesn’t matter. I don’t need you alive once Rebel gets here and I can exterminate him,” he replies casually.
Now I’m absolutely furious. My anger has taken over the fear inside me, and I know that if I had the chance, I could eviscerate both of the doctors with my bare hands if I wanted to. Rebel may have gotten himself into this by getting me pregnant, but now I’ve been made to feel responsible by allowing him to get close to me and turning myself into collateral in his fucked up world of crime.
“Your ex boyfriend made a terrible soldier, by the way,” Dr. Ryan continues. “He might not have been a junkie when you knew him, but goddamn did he get hooked fast. All he needed was one taste and it was fucking over for him.”
“Wait, Dean was a part of this too?!” I shout. I know I had my suspicions, but knowing it for a fact now puts so much into perspective. The way he was behaving at my apartment when he practically broke in and tried to kill me, his obsession with getting to me before he was killed…
I can’t say I’m glad he’s dead, but it seemed like his life was headed toward nothing but violence and abuse. His ending was fitting for him.
“Of course he was. He had nothing better to do with his life. For fuck’s sake, he spent all of his free time stalking you. Running him into the ground for intel with drugs was doing a public service. You should be thanking me,” Dr. Ryan says, the maniacal glimmer in his eyes returning.
I feel another surge of anger. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why can’t you just be happy with your salary as a doctor? So many people are struggling and here you are killing people just so you can have more money that you don’t need,” I shout. I’m so enraged that I feel like I could levitate off the floor with the chair still attached to me.
Dr. Ryan is clearly becoming impatient with me. Surely he was expecting me to be weeping at his feet, shitting my pants and begging him to let me stay alive.
He wasn’t expecting me to be so responsive, which was stupid. It’s like men never expect women to react to anything, just to lie down, spread our legs, and stare at the ceiling while they fuck or laugh at or butcher us.
Without another word, Dr. Ryan turns around and begins to erratically search for something in a drawer behind him.
This immediately puts a pit in my stomach. What could he possibly be looking for? He’s already got me tied up, the next step is a torture device of some kind. Hell, he could just heat a knife up with a lighter.
What he finds is just as terrifying.
He holds up a syringe and uncaps it. “You think you’re going talk your way out of here?” he asks with a gleam of pure evil in his eyes.
“What’s that?” I ask in a whisper.
“Something special I’ve whipped up, my dear. Don’t you worry one bit,” he says, stepping closer.
This is it. I’m done for now, and it’s all because I couldn’t just tell Rebel the truth. I had to trust Dr. Paul, who led me to my almost certain death.
