Dmitry's Closet (24 page)

     Pouting again, she scooted down in the middle of the bed and put her legs under the cover. As he reached over to kiss her on the forehead, she sneezed.

     "Told you," Dmitry said tauntingly.

∞♥∞

     Cory could not recall a day that Royal did not come into the boutique. She must have either been really sick or Dmitry really insistent. Either way, this gave him the perfect opportunity to get downstairs in the basement. To ensure that he had enough time, he had sent Renée on a run for lunch, office supplies and to drop off a package at the post office. She'd be gone now at least an hour. As soon as she pulled off, he closed the shop and headed to the back office.

     Digging into the pocket of his tight and very uncomfortable khakis, he pulled out a small piece of paper with a code. He typed the numbers into the security device and saw the red light turn green. He quickly opened the door and headed down the dark staircase.

     Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he ran his hands against the wall until he found the light switch. As he hit it, the large lower room illuminated. It was empty with the exception of a large bed, a standing mirror, a flat screen television mounted on an opposite wall and a dresser. In the far corner of the airy space sat a large surveillance center with monitors all over various establishments of Dmitry's including
Mother Russia,
the boutique and the front and back entrance of his home.

     He looked at his watch and realized that he didn't have much time. Pulling open the file cabinet in the corner, he looked for the surveillance footage from the last week. He needed to find out what was going on with Ivan. Maybe these tapes would tell him more about his whereabouts.

     Carefully, he placed dated CDs on the table and made copies on the small laptop on top of the desk. He tapped his foot impatiently as the copies were generated to his jump drive. Taking them one by one out of their plastic protective coverings, he slid them into the computer and downloaded the information.

     When he finished, he picked up the handful of CDs to take them back to the cabinet and clumsily dropped them on the floor. He huffed under his breath, and then quickly tried to gather them up in his arms. As he stood, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. His heart began to race.

     He grabbed the handle of the file cabinet and dropped the CDs back into their original file. He knew that he did not have a gun. So he looked around for a weapon. Skimming the room, the one thing that stuck out was the bed. He ran over to it and ran his hand under the railing to find what he was looking for. ..a weapon. Sliding the compact oozy from the Velcro enclosure, he walked up slowly to the door and pointed it.

     The final footstep landed on the ground anchored by a large leather loafer. From the shadows, Dmitry stepped out of the doorway and looked over at Cory, who stood with the gun pointed.

     "Shit, Dmitry. You scared the shit out of me," Cory exhaled, putting the gun down.

     "How did I scare
jou?
You're supposed to be cop for Christ's sake," Dmitry smirked, making his way across the room to the surveillance equipment. "Did you find anything meaningful?"

     "I don't know. I haven't viewed them yet. I'm going to take it back to the apartment and see if there is anything incriminating on them."

     "Let's hope that there is," Dmitry said, looking back at Cory. "Why are you wearing those tight-ass pants?"

     "Part of the cover," Cory said, going back over to the bed. He pulled a pillowcase off of one of Anatoly's pillows and wiped the gun down then placed it back under the bed where he had found it.

     "All gay men don't dress two sizes too small, you know."

     "This one does. Where is Royal?"

     "Sick."

     "Pregnant?"

     "No. She has flu." Dmitry sat down in the chair by the desk and sighed. "I'm exhausted. Have you thought of possible
exit strategies
for Ivan?"

     "Yeah." Cory put his hands in his pockets. "I've also thought about some possible exit strategies for you, too."

     "We'll get to that soon enough." Dmitry waved off the portion of the conversation that he cared nothing about.

     "Okay. Well, if I can prove on these tapes that he is up to illegal activity; I can roll this entire investigation over to him. Almost everything that they have on you won't stand in court now. So, if I give them this bone, they'll bite."

     Dmitry listened attentively with his hands crossed behind his head. Rocking the seat, he weighed his options.

     "Get the ammunition, but don't do anything yet. He's my brother and a Vor. We must deal with him on our own."

     Cory nodded. "Okay. Well, I have to give them something. This
is
an investigation."

     "Give them the fact that you've seen the surveillance room, but it was only a glimpse when the door was open. Give them information regarding the ten whorehouses after I get the deeds out of my name, and I'll work on deciding the rest in the next couple of weeks."

     "Yeah, about that. I'm taking a week to go home and be with my wife and kids. Christmas is coming up, and I don't want to miss it with them."

     "Of course." Dmitry understood. "I plan to take Royal away for Christmas anyway. Renée can watch the place. How is your mother's cancer doing?"

     "Thanks to you, she's in remission. We could have never afforded the treatments otherwise."

     "Then our little arrangement is worth it,
dah?"

     "Oh yeah. It's worth it," Cory sighed. "Let's just hope that it continues to run smoothly."

     "It will," Dmitry said, turning towards the monitors. "Head back up. We have customers coming in. I'll stay down here and look around a while." He peered at the busy noon traffic at
Mother Russia
and his staff eagerly working. "I'm going to watch them work for a while to ensure that they are actually living up to my standard of customer service."

     "Alright," Cory said, leaving Dmitry to his surveillance.

     To Cory, Dmitry was a very odd man but in a lot of ways very merciful. Cory had blown his cover the night that Royal had her opening celebration. He had no idea that the building had a basement, because it was not on any of the plans that he and the team had gone over.

     That night, seeing that only Royal's car was there and Dmitry was still at the restaurant, and knowing that Royal always closed her door upstairs and never came down until morning, Cory snuck in after hours to comb the boutique's back office for clues.

     Anatoly quickly emerged from the basement, gun in hand and held him at gun point until Dmitry arrived. Cory was expecting Dmitry to kill him, but they took him downstairs to the basement and talked to him—asked him what it would take to flip. Cory had just found out his mother was in the third stage of cancer, and as an only child, he could not afford he bills.

     Dmitry agreed to pay the doctor bills in full through a doctor that he knew who would classify the project as a
charitable
case. And just like that both of his problems went away. He would live another day and so would his mother. Now that his beloved mother was in remission, Cory felt that he owed Dmitry everything, including the useful Intel that he gave and the protection that he offered through that intelligence.

∞♥∞

     After Dmitry left
Mother Russia
later that afternoon, he headed back to his house to check on Royal. He was quite surprised to see that she had listened and stayed at home. He had expected to pull into the garage and find her truck gone, but it was still there, which indicated that she was still sick. Carrying a small red bag, he walked up the long spiral staircase of the main hall to the west wing of his home, where he found Royal in bed watching television.

     "Hey," she said, turning off the television with her remote.

     "Hi." Dmitry closed the door behind him and walked up to her side of the bed. "Has your fever gone, yet?" He placed his hand on her head.

     "Yep," she said, moving his hand. "Did you stop to check on my shop today, since you wouldn't let me leave the house?"

     "Everything is fine." He sat on the bed beside her. "I have surprise for you." Handing her the small red bag, he leaned in to kiss her lips.

     "What it is?" Royal asked, taking the bag.

     A large smiled came across her face as she pulled a small Christmas tree ornament out of the bag.

     "Oh, it's so sweet. A figurine of the Red Square." She held it up to the light to look at the intricately detailed work. "Does this mean that you're going to let me put up the Christmas tree now. You know, I've been dying to do it?" She grabbed a napkin and blew her nose.

     "Even better that that." He smiled. "I'm going to take you to Moscow for Christmas and New Years."

     Royal looked up at him stunned. "Excuse me?"

     "Well, you've always said that you wanted to go." Dmitry was confused. Did she not want to?

     Royal was quiet for a moment. She moved the comforter from her legs and stood up. "Does this mean that I'll actually see it all? The Red Square? Kremlin? Lenin's Mausoleum and St Basil's Cathedral?" She finally smiled brightly and jumped on top of Dmitry. He caught her in his embrace and kissed her.

     "I was hoping that you would be happy."

     "I'm thrilled. I've never been anywhere outside of the South. Now, I get to see a new country... I just can't imagine."

     "You know why I like doing things for you?" he asked, moving the hair out of her face.

     "Why?"

     "Because you are the only woman in my life who truly appreciates and deserves it."

     "No, that's not why you do it," she said, in a matter of fact tone.

     "Really? Then why?"

     "Because you love me," she said, kissing his lips and hugging him tight. "And I love you too."

     He looked her in her eyes and shook his head.
"Dah,
that's why I do it for you. I love you."

     "Does this mean that you're going to make love to me?" she asked with her legs wrapped around his back.

     "No," Dmitry laughed. "You're still sick." He tried to pull her off of him. "I don't want you to get any sicker."

     "I'm not that sick." She kissed his checks and coughed.

     "Ugh! You are, too." He laughed.

     "Baby, I can't believe that we're going to Moscow!" She screamed as she wrestled him down to the bed.

Chapter 17

     Royal had never been out of the country. She had never been above the ocean, the clouds, so near to the heavens. And above all, she had never been in a luxury private jet. There was a certain amount of prestige that came with such a thing. It was far richer that she could ever describe.

     Earlier that morning after a hardy breakfast and a hectic packing session with the maid and Renée to help, she had been escorted in a limo from her house to the private airstrip, where she and her entourage of Russian men, Dmitry and Anatoly included, boarded a swank, LearJet 60 and set out on a trip to a land that she had never seen.

     Dmitry and Royal sat in the interior forward leather off-white chairs beside each other looking out of windows and listening to television that played in front of them on the flat screen.

     Dmitry was thinking of the tasks that lay ahead upon his landing, and Royal was literally in awe of the beauty of the clouds and the blue sky. The stewardess bent down to Royal and offered her a glass of champagne. She took it happily, inwardly thinking that champagne was a great way to celebrate her new lifestyle. However, when offered, her companion quickly waved the woman away.

     Royal looked over at Dmitry, who was completely apathetic of the entire trip. He had traveled the world over and found it the same, wherever he went. It baffled her how a man of such wealth and affluence found her so interesting.

     "What are you sighing about?" he asked, taking his eyes of the window. He looked over at her and tilted his head.

     "It doesn't move you anymore, does it?" she asked, setting down her glass.

     "What?" He looked around.

     "Any of this." She kept her voice low, so that the others could not hear them. If they overheard her, it would only prove more how unworthy she truly was.

     "It is my life, Royal. You'll get used to it." He leaned over the arm rest to her. "Does it bother you? The way that I live?"

     "Hell no," she retorted, and then smiled a little, revealing her perfect white teeth. "It fascinates me. I wake up everyday and pinch myself."

     Dmitry liked that. His eyes sparkled. "Then it is all worth it."

     "Tell me... how you find me."

     "Yes?"

     "Interesting? When you live like this? I just can't understand what I bring to the table that blows your skirt up."

     "Sincerity. Genuine sincerity. It's a hard thing to come by when you have money. Plus, you're stunning and smart and hard working and… if you just wanted a compliment, my dear, you should have just said so. This is quite a long way around the bush." They both laughed.

     Royal reached out and touched Dmitry's golden bronze face. "You're such a good man."

     "I am just a man."

     "No. You are so much more than that to me," she said, leaning in to kiss him. Her eyes were bright with conviction. "Do you know that I've never had one meaningful relationship with a man in my entire life? No dad, no brother, no decent boyfriend. But you are, in a way, all of those things."

     Dmitry didn't smile. He looked her dead in her eyes and listened carefully.

     Royal allowed him to kiss her forehead. It was all that he could do to express his gratification for her honesty.

     "Was that too heavy?" she asked, sitting back. "You know how I am. I just... get caught up in the moment sometimes."

     Dmitry sighed. "No. We are just very much alike, you and I. For us to have come from such different backgrounds and cultures, we share the same perils."