Bratva Boss’s Secret Triplets by Bella King

Chapter 3

Rebel

Ishouldn’t be cumming inside a woman raw. I doubt she’s even on birth control, but the temptation was too great. The second I felt her tight, sweet pussy squeezing my cock like that, I decided that I would risk it.

I roll off her, breathing heavily as reality slowly comes back to me. I can’t stay here the night, but I want to. April tempts me in ways that no other woman has. Either I’m losing my edge, or she really is a special woman.

But special or not, she’s going to be a distant memory in a couple of weeks. She doesn’t need a mafia boss running into her life and ruining it. She needs a thrill to remember, and I’ve just given that to her.

My job here is done.

“I’d really like to know your name after all of that,” April breathes from beside me. Her body is stuck to the sheets with sweat, but she looks good enough for me to claim again. Perhaps that will get her to stop asking me such silly questions.

I’m not telling her who I am.

“I choose to keep that to myself,” I say, laying my hand on her sweat-cooled breast and giving it a light squeeze. “But maybe you can change my mind.”

My cock grows stiff again at the thought of filling her with another load. It’s dangerous, but I’ve already done it once. Twice won’t make it any riskier.

“I’d like a name before we go any further,” April says, seeming to have finally come to her senses. That tends to happen when the fog of sexual temptation has cleared.

I roll off the bed, grabbing my pinstriped slacks from the back of the desk chair and stepping into them. “I have business to attend to tonight. I wish I could stay,” I say, feeling more truth in those words than I typical would. I do like April, but liking and committing are two very different things, and I’m a busy man.

She sits up in the bed, and I can see from the reflection in her vanity mirror that she’s surprised. I wonder what she thought this was if not a quickie.

“I didn’t think you’d be going so soon,” she says, sliding off the bed as I pull a simple white t-shirt over my head. “Don’t you want to stay for a glass of wine or maybe something to eat? I can order pizza.”

I chuckle. “I only drink whiskey.”

“I have that too,” she says, her eyes wide and earnest.

I feel sorry for her. She seems lonely, like I’m the only man she’s had over in ages, but I can’t imagine why. She’s the most stunning woman I’ve been with, and she’s real. That’s rare. I’m sick of fake tits and overfilled lips whispering lies into my ears. I love real women, and April is one of them.

“I’d love to stay, April. You’re a lovely woman,” I say, throwing my jacket over my shoulders. “But you wouldn’t want a man like me. You’re better than that.”

She frowns, rightfully confused. She doesn’t know that I’m a mafia boss, or else she’d never agree to sleep with me. Something tells me she’s not keen on reckless criminals. She strikes me as more of the honest type, and that’s just another reason why we’d never work together.

“Let’s just say we come from very different backgrounds,” I say with a shrug.

“I don’t appreciate being used,” she says, folding her arms over her pale breasts. She looks sexier when she’s angry, but I’m not going to let that sway me. I really do have things to take care of this evening, and mafia business is an impatient beast.

I doubt she’s still be asking me to stay if she knew who I really was. While I can’t say exactly what kind of person she is, the way her apartment is put together with coordinated décor tells me that she’s most likely a type-A who brags about the fact that she’s never been high before. As much as I like to believe she would be a good influence on me, she’d be the one not being able to put up with me and leaving.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I say, offering up the most half-assed apology. There’s nothing I can say that will change her feelings about me after this, but I’m okay with that. Life doesn’t always swing in your favor. You have to pick your wins carefully.

April quickly pulls a robe over her shoulders as I walk out of the bedroom and into the hallway. “Hey, don’t run off so fast,” she says, rushing after me.

I already have my hand on the doorknob when I feel her hand jerking the back of my t-shirt. She really must want to keep me here, but I’m too strong for her to stop. I play her game for a moment longer, though, enjoying what little time I have left with her.

I spin around, looking deep into her eyes. “Remember me, April,” I say softly.

“I would if I had your name.”

“Rebel,” I say before I can stop myself.

I really shouldn’t be giving that out, but she doesn’t have my surname, and I’m a difficult man to track down, especially for someone unwilling to break laws to get my location. I trust her not to be a psycho.

“Rebel?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “That doesn’t sound real.”

“I’m as real as they come,” I reply, turning back around to the door.

“Rebel,” I hear her say quietly from behind me as I turn the knob, and I get a chill from the sound of her saying my name.

With a sigh, I twist the knob the rest of the way, and I’m just about to swing the door open and step out into the stairwell when I hear a loud pop from outside.

And then another

And another.

My stomach drops. “Get down,” I shout, turning around and grabbing April by the waist. I charge back through the hallway and into the kitchen, tossing her to the floor beside the fridge.

I pin her body to the floor as more shots ring out. I hear glass breaking and people screaming as more bullets fly. Someone has found me, and they’re shooting to kill.

“What’s going on?” April squeaks from below me.

I fish into my jacket pocket and pull out a pistol. It holds ten bullets, but in my large hand, it’s small. I prefer bigger guns, but I left most of them in my car out front. I guess that’s how they found the place.

I curse myself for being reckless as I pull the slide back and climb off of April. She’s breathing like the room is out of air. I know panic when I see it, but I don’t have time to calm her down. We have a much bigger problem at hand.

“Stay here,” I order as I spring into action.

“Where are you going?” she asks between quick, rapid breaths.

“To kill someone,” I reply dryly.

I don’t give her time to protest. The gunfire has stopped, but I don’t hear anyone driving away. Either they’re reloading, or they’re coming in. Now might be my only chance to stop them.

My feet rattle the loose floorboards as I charge toward the door. I notice a prominent bullet hole in the door right where I was standing just thirty seconds prior. If I had stepped outside before the shooting began, I would’ve been a dead man.

I use my foot to open the door, keeping both hands on my pistol as I barge out into the open. My eyes focus in on a silver sedan idling outside of the apartment building. The headlights are off, but both the front and back windows are rolled down.

I don’t see any guns sticking out, but I know enough about drive-bys not to hesitate as I aim at the car. They’re the culprits or there was a ghost here shooting at the apartment, and I’m not the suppositious type.

The second I start firing, the sedan starts and jerks forward, roaring off toward the exit. I have half a mind to chase them down in my car, but I don’t want to cause a scene. It won’t be long until the police arrive, and I need to be long gone by then.

I step back into April’s apartment, rushing to the kitchen to find her huddled by the fridge, no longer hyperventilating, but still clearly upset. Most people aren’t used to being shot at, but it’s nothing new for me. I forget how traumatic it can be for regular people.

“You’re not hit, are you?” I ask, looking her over.

“No,” she replies, having to look down at herself to confirm it.

“Good. It was nice knowing you. I’m sure the police will be here soon,” I say, turning back around.

“Wait,” she exclaims, jumping out from beside the fridge. “You’re not actually leaving, are you?”

I don’t answer her. I just keep walking. I’ve spent too much time here already. The poor girl probably thinks I’m insane, or I’ve at least permanently scarred her. At least I know for sure that she’ll never forget me, but I’m not willing to face the negative connotation of it.

I’m leaving, and I’m never coming back.