Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen (15 page)

"I need you to facilitate some things that you will be required to put your name on, some deals to be made. No one will suspect you. You're a nobody."

She ignored his snide remark. "Illegal business?"

"Is there any other kind?" he clinched his jaw. "You could be… should be dead right now, but I'm offering you opportunity to better yourself."

"It doesn't appear that I have much of a choice, do I tough guy? What makes you think that I won't go to the police though? And how do I know that you're not just setting me up to go jail?"

"I hate fucking pigs, so you won't have any dealings with them from me. And if you turn me in, I'll go to DC and visit your nice family and kill them deader than I'd kill you. And there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it, but you already know that, don't you?"

The threat hardly bothered Victoria. What did she give a damn about her family for? It had taken an act of God for them to pay for her ticket home. Screw them all. The immediate concern for her was money, not to mention that she hated cops too.

"I want the same rate of pay… no… I want double what your father was going to pay me. It sounds like you need me as much as I need you. And when I'm out of your debt, I want to walk away free and clear. None of this in-for-life servitude bullshit that you Russians are into. I've watched the movies. I know that those tattoos mean something very fucked up."

"If you were smart, you would have done your homework before you came here." He paused. "What makes you think I want you for life? Did I ask you to marry me? What are you, crazy?" Anatoly huffed. "You don't even know what you'll be doing yet, and you're already talking deal for double? I
should
put bullet in your head."

"Fine. Triple it."

She sat up on the couch a little straighter and moved her long dark hair from her face. Strands had fallen out of her neat ponytail during the struggle and now were wistfully. She looked like an angel.

It was hard for Anatoly to pay attention. She was beautiful; he would give her that. But she also was heartless and greedy. Those were two things that if used properly could help him once the deal in Sochi came through. He raised his brow.

"You mind if I smoke? My folks don't like it. Plus, it's not good example for little Anya."

"Knock yourself out," she shrugged.

He took out a silver case and pulled out a long slender cigarette. Sliding the tobacco between his full lips, he pulled out a lighter and lit it.

After taking a drag, he looked over at her and sat back in his seat with his legs open. Victoria instantly thought of his father. Sexy. Dangerously sexy men. She wondered what Anatoly was like in bed.

Anatoly watched her carefully. He knew what she was thinking. He could almost read her filthy mind word for word.

"I'll pay you what he agreed to pay you plus half. You stay where I tell you to stay. You do what I tell you to do. But if you talk to police or try to fuck me over, I kill you. Don't ever forget that and don't ever doubt me." His voice was low and calm but full of venom.

"I don't doubt you, but don't think that I fear you either," she lied. "This is a business arrangement. I'm not a whore, and I'm not fucking push over. I want double."

He almost laughed, but he didn't say no. He wouldn't because he planned to give her double.

"Double," she said again fading.

"There's no guarantee that my stepmother won't still kill you when she comes to her senses."

"If she didn't kill me then, she won't later."

"Don't be sure of yourself. Why… why my father?"

"You mean, why not you?"

"Yeah?"

"Because he seems mellow. You seem out of control, and I don't even know you."

"My father mellow? You are stupid."

"Yeah, I know that now. He pulled a blade and put it to my neck, then started choking me and crying and shit. Said something about sodomizing me and cutting me up. He's really fucked in the head. I thought he was going to rip me to shreds. Your stepmother actually saved me. He was always the calmer of the two, it seemed. Evidently, it was just a cover."

"Looks are deceiving," Anatoly smirked. He was proud of his father. She deserved it.

"What did you give me?" her heart pounded loudly. It felt as though it would pop out of her chest. She began to skip breaths. Her eyes rolled and hands clamored.

"You should be afraid to fall asleep around me," Anatoly said tauntingly. "You should afraid of where you'll wake up."

"As long as it's not in bed with you, I'll be fine."

"Bitch," he puffed blowing out a plume of smoke. "Still talking crazy even after all of that. You're just as fucked up as I am."

Victoria leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. The drugs had settled in now. She began to drift off.

Anatoly watched her from across the room. From his view, he could see up her skirt to her red panties. Red was his favorite color. He looked away from her and bit his lip. His father was an idiot to pass up on her.

After finishing his cigarette, he walked over to the couch and leaned over her still body. She didn't flinch. He put his hand on her neck and checked her pulse, thought about strangling her and about screwing her.

It was apparent that she was going to be trouble, yet she made his heart race more than any woman he had ever met. Finally after a minute or two of deliberation, he reached down and picked her up.

Carrying her limp body through the large condo in his arms, he took her up the stairs to the master bedroom and laid her in the bed. He pulled her shoes off, examined her pedicure. Why? He didn't know. Then he went downstairs, rummaged through her well-organized purse to find her cell phone, ID and money, took it all and left the undisclosed place quietly.

The mood at the Medlov Chateau was festive by dusk. The help dashed around the house in a cheery mood, filling it with blooming white, yellow and red roses, spraying perfumes, lighting candles, opening curtains and cleaning. It was as if the house had finally come alive after many years of lying dormant.

The night sky was accented by hues of red and gold as the sun set under a full moon and eager bright stars. The breathtaking view made the chateau look majestic. Surrounded by beautiful landscaping, a well-cut immaculate lawn that stretched on flat lands for miles, a sparking lake and beautiful weather, it appeared that there was no more beautiful place in the world.

Anatoly pulled onto the private drive and could see the home lit up a mile away. It appeared that everyone light in the house was on, every window open; even the lanterns leading down the drive had been lit. Alas, his father and stepmother were in a good mood. He pulled into the circular drive, hearing the gravel crush under this tires, jumped out and ran up the long steps to the front of the house. Stepan opened the door as he grabbed the knob and let him in.

"What's going on in here?" Anatoly asked, wiping his feet off on the rug.

"Your father says tonight he cooks for the entire house, staff, family and all. Were going to have dinner in the main hall."

"He hasn't done that since they moved in," Anatoly smirked. "And Royal?"

"She has the maids cleaning and then rushing to put on regular clothes to enjoy the evening. A band from in town is coming in an hour to set up and play music, and there is a rumor that Dmitry will announce a raise tonight for all workers."

"Wow. It's amazing what a little ass can do."

Stepan gave him a frown. It was completely inappropriate to speak of Mistress Medlov in that way. He shook his head at Anatoly, giving him a look of complete admonishment, yet the boy did not take offense to the old man's rigid manners.

"Lighten up, old man. I'm just kidding with you. Plus, you know it's true."

Cracking a grin, Anatoly hit the butler on the back and headed towards the kitchen where his father surely was.

There were Old World Russian recipe aromas filling the corridors. The pots clanged louder as he got closer to the kitchen. Opening the large double doors to the massive kitchen, he smiled at his father.

Dmitry looked different now, nearly bald with all of his beautiful hair cut off, but he still managed to look stately.

He looked up at his son and smiled. "I was wondering what you were up to," Dmitry waved him over to the stove. "Here, stir this while I check on my bread," he said, wiping his hands on his white apron.

"I heard that we are throwing party tonight," Anatoly said, stirring his fathers legendary borscht.

"
Da
, we have huge Medlov-style dinner in main hall in about… " he checked his watch. "An hour."

"Why?"

"Why not?" he snapped.

"You're happy now, huh? Now that you have everything." Anatoly took the large wooden spoon from the pot and tasted the borscht.

Dmitry pulled the bread from the oven and placed it on the countertop. He shook his head and turned to him. Leaning against the counter, he took off his mitten and sighed. "Yes, I am happy, Anatoly." He ran his hand over his head and remembered his hair. "I'll be even happier when this grows back."

"It fits you," Anatoly smirked.

"What's going on with you? What have you been doing?" Dmitry pried.

The other cooks moved about in the kitchen around them fixing the other meals that would feed nearly one hundred people very soon. They knew to be silent, to be invisible around the men, although they listened on carefully to gossip about it later.

"I thought that maybe after the meeting and the news you might decide to come back is all… you know, come back for good," Anatoly coughed and looked around.

"Give us a minute, people," Dmitry ordered, realizing his sons discomfort. It had been a long time since he had to hide anything, now that he was living on the up and up.

The staff left the kitchen quietly.

Dmitry took the pickled cucumbers from the jar and placed them on the platters while he waited for his son to come clean. He turned his back to him, giving him time to get his thoughts straight.

"Why won't you come back, papa?" Anatoly pushed.

"I did. Just for you, but only for this deal."

"There is so much money to be made, so much power to be had. How can you just walk away?"

Dmitry grinned. "For a young man, I imagine that this seems to be priority but not for me—not anymore. I am filthy rich. And I am still extremely powerful." He turned to face his son. "And yet I need more than that. Like I told you, I am happy being here with family, raising my daughter, growing old with my wife, doing things that I never could do as boss. Even doing this favor is a lot to ask of me, even from my son, but I do it, because I love you and for no other reason than that."

"I don't know if I can do it without you." His statement was sincere. He clenched his jaw and looked down at the granite floor.

Dmitry's heart warmed. "You can do it. I would not have left you in charge if I felt you unworthy."

"I just… I don't understand how one woman can make a man want to leave his entire life behind or alter it in such a way. It's been three years, and I still don't understand."

Dmitry shook his head. His dimples deepened as he gave a hearty laugh. "You're just a kid, Anatoly. Give it time. When you meet the woman who completes you, you'll know it."

"How? I need to know this, so I can stay away from her always."

Dmitry walked beside his son and took the spoon from him. He took a deep breath and shook his head cleverly. "It will happen when you least expect, with whom you least expect and it will be… jolting. It will feel like heart attack. She will mesmerize you, capture you in such a way, you could not harm her if you tried."

Anatoly looked up at his father curiously.

But his father continued with a grin on his face. "And you will smell like her when you come from three hours of being in city with her. And your father… he will know that you've been with her, because he smelled her cologne when she was trying to screw him the night before."

"I'm not in love with her," Anatoly argued. "That is not who I was talking about, papa."

"You know. I wasn't boss… I didn't build all of this, because I paid no attention to detail. It is the detail that determines whether or not you stay alive," he dropped a pinch of pepper into his borsht. "Don't tell, Royal. Shell kill you both, and I don't mean it figuratively. You had better keep her far from here and under lock and key."

"And you? Are you disappointed in me?"

"I think it is big mistake. She's dangerous, stupid and occasionally does coke. I can't see the beauty in a woman like that."

"I've done coke before."

"Well, no one ever accused you of being smart either,
junior
."

"Where you attracted to her?"

"Yes. I thought that she was very persuasive. If I had not been married to Royal, I would have had her."

"So, I am making mistake?"

"Colossal, but it is your call. I think if Royal had come on to you instead of me, you would have tried. That doesn't make you a bad man; it just makes you a man."

"I went to kill Victoria. For what she had done to Royal and the disrespect she had shown this family, I went to drug her and throw her in the woods somewhere or something."

"And you ended up doing what… what you did to Brigitte?"

"No," he shook his head in disgust. "No, I drugged and kidnapped her."

Dmitry frowned. "I told you that you didn't know a damned thing about women."

"I have to keep her there until I take her back to Memphis with me," he sighed and looked at his father, who was obviously flabbergasted by his idiotic move. "I sound so fucking stupid."

"It won't work, Anatoly. You should just let her go now. She is trouble, but the two of you together is a disaster."

"Who says I want it to work? I'm going to make her facilitate the buy of the art to clean the money. That's all."

"We don't allow women into the inner workings of the brotherhood. Not even Royal. It's almost sacrilegious. The men won't like it if you let her do anything more than you're saying. You'll end up getting her killed and yourself. The code is the code."