Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen (6 page)

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Anatoly raised a brow. His eyes sparkled. "She's like summertime."

Dmitry was taken aback by his sons answer but nodded. "
Da Da
, she is beautiful, but she's also Royal's pet. If she found out that you were sleeping with her maid, she might fire Brigitte just to keep her away from you. Then, I would be the He looked over at his

behind his credenza, only one who benefits, since she made me double your girlfriends salary a few weeks ago."

"I'm not such a bad guy, and it's not like I'm raping someone." Anatoly bit his lip when he realized how the statement affected his father. "I didn't mean… "

"No, I know you didn't," Dmitry assured him, but his face was still frowned.

"She and I literally ran into each other in my room when she was cleaning it. I burst through the doors of the bathroom and knocked her down… all I had on was my towel. I couldn't help myself. I had to kiss her."

"And then you felt compelled to do what? Start having sex with her?"

"That came later," Anatoly scoffed. "She's not that easy."

"I thought you smarter than that," Dmitry said sitting back. "To get so close to someone who works for you. You saw what happened between me and Royal. You saw what it cost her. That's why she has all these crazy rules about no one being able to date as long as they work here."

"I have no intention of marrying Brigitte. We both just like each other."

"It always happens that way. Always with the intention of not doing more, but you do end up doing more, Anatoly."

"So, I can't even have a lover, now?"

"Yes, but it shouldn't be your maid or more importantly your psychotic step mothers maid," he pleaded.

"You said it. I didn't."

"What if I had been Royal? Do you realize ramifications of your actions? She would have flipped."

"Everything is not about your precious Royal," Anatoly huffed.

"I won't argue with you about that, but heed my warning, if Royal finds out, if you are not extremely careful, there will be hell to pay," Dmitry laughed. "I wish that you could have seen your face. You were as scared as schoolgirl."

"Well, I
did
think that it was Royal," Anatoly grinned.

"Then stop rushing long enough to lock door next time. You young kids screw like rabbits. Take things slow. Make her happy first,
eh
."

"I'll remember that, Casanova."

Dmitry smiled softly and sat back in his chair. His eyes narrowed in on his son. Rubbing his hands together, he sighed. "So, lay it out, Anatoly. Why should I come back, even if it is for just little while? You see that I have both of my hands full here." His smile disappeared. The lines at the sides of his eyes showed more and his age was suddenly apparent.

"Papa, this is an opportunity unlike any other," Anatoly said, changing gears.

"I've said that about each and every opportunity that has come my way."

Anatoly sighed. "This is unlike anything that well ever be offered again."

"How so?"

"Disgruntled Soviet Spetsnaz with 200,000 AK74 military grade weapons ready to sale in three weeks to the highest bidder along with ammunition and tactical gear."

"200,000? Impossible."

"I thought so, too. But it's the truth. They released photos and video of goods, but of course, they kept location to themselves. They are having meeting of minds tomorrow on Bardzeckis yacht right outside of Sochi."

"Why Sochi?" Dmitry immediately thought of the bridges that he had burned permanently there.

"The liaison who is facilitating the sale is coordinating this via Bardzecki, who is not a bidder but gets large fee to get us all together tomorrow. It's only open to established Russian organizations and bosses. The Spetsnaz won't sell to anyone else, which is why only mostly Vor were contacted."

"Why not Kerch? I have good contacts and good relationships in Kerch."

"Papa, they specifically said Sochi—no other cities."

Dmitry thought for a minute. "I don't like it."

"The council said that you wouldn't, that you would pass. But I know that this is good deal, and I need you to have faith in me. Once I do this deal, I have no more limitations."

"Where are you going to get the capital to pay for this?"

"I have it."

"So, why do you need me?"

"Because they said that only established Vory are allowed. I'm not credible yet in those circles."

"Nonsense. You are my son, you are boss… "

"I am not even 30 years old, papa. They don't take me seriously when it comes to moving this type of product, but they will if you come with me."

"Have you even considered that this could be a set up? If not, one word for you. Troika. 20 members led by Petrov were arrested in Majorca in one day. There are countless other ambushes. One incident was even aboard a yacht."

"Papa, I've done my research. Sorrello gave me his contacts in Eastern Europe. I talked to a man in Georgia who is working with the government there but is employed by the US."

"Sorrello is less than dependable. I was almost charged in Memphis because of his bumbling. I had to spend a fucking fortune."

"Well, he's come through lately for me. There is no bust. However, there will be surveillance."

"The predecessor of bust."

"I have plan."

Dmitry raised his brow.

Anatoly took a deep breath. "There is minimal surveillance, and were not who they are after. Evidently, the liaison is high on some lists."

"And you want to do business with him."

"Yes. I had some people to ask around and these Spetsnaz are all trying to move the product ASAP. They've been stockpiling it for years. However, it became a little harder to do when Admiral Kurixdov retired. The last of their little operations unit retired last week after twenty years of service in the Russian Navy. This is part of their retirement plan—to sell off what they have been stealing for years. They want to move it fast and get it out of the location that it was in, because evidently without the security clearance of the last man, they can't get to it after next month."

"I've never heard of an unpatriotic Spetsnaz. It's like oxymoron. You are too young to know this, but they were instrumental to Russia during the Cold War. These are true patriots to the country. It's like suggesting there is mole in CIA. And I know there are no moles in the CIA."

"Well a few traitors exist, and they want to do business."

Dmitry shook his head in disgust. Even he had some morals. "And the liaison?"

"Bardzecki has vouched for him. He says the liaison is not a Vor, but he is most reliable."

Dmitry was impressed. This was an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. However, what his son was asking could be treacherous to his already unstable marriage. If he went back and Royal found out, he would surely face a predicament.

Legally Royal Stone was dead. She had taken the first name of her dead sister, Chloe and was a different woman than the one he married.

If they were forced to divorce, there would be no telling how bitter things could get, especially with Anya added to the equation.

On the other hand, if he did not go and oversee something as large as this deal, his son could get killed or arrested for not knowing what to do and when. The decision would be a hard one no matter what.

He clasped his hands together and thought deeply and silently for a few minutes. Anatoly waited without moving in his chair. He had to have his fathers help. There was no way possible to do this without him.

"What are you going to do about the surveillance again?" Dmitry finally asked with a furrowed brow.

"Well be on yacht, far enough off coastline to be undetected. I know that it sounds simple, but all we have to do is change color of our hair."

Dmitry looked up. "What?"

"The Medlov's are known for our features. They identify us by our blonde hair and blue eyes. For tomorrow night only, we change the color of our hair, just for the cameras. The guy who is doing surveillance works for us."

"I'm seven feet tall. How do you plan to hide that?"

"There is no active investigation. The pictures will be stored, improperly labeled—not used. People will automatically assume that you are… "

Dmitry finished his son's statement. "Ivan."

"Exactly and they'll think it's old footage. I've been assured of it."

Dmitry shook his head. "It's not that I don't trust you, but before I do this, I'm going to have my men check on this."

"I understand, but if you check it out and it's legit, will you do this for me, father?"

Dmitry shook his head. "Yes."

Upset earlier by Victoria and Dmitry, Royal had taken a valium and crawled into bed before sundown, missing her appointment at the shop and refusing dinner.

Now, in the still darkness of the night, behind the cloak of her heavily covered canopy bed, she flinched through another nightmare, clawing the sheets, sweating and moaning.

Screaming aloud, she popped up shaking and curled her knees up to her chest. Tonight was a different dream. Not about just one but also the other. Without feeling for Dmitry in the large bed, she knew he was not there, but she had to find him.

Jumping out of bed, she slipped on her slippers and bolted out of her door. She ran straight down the long carpeted hall to Anatoly's room and burst through the doors.

Anatoly immediately sat up in the bed, bare-chested and startled. The glimmer of his shiny Glock reflected in the moonlight.

"What's wrong?" he asked, throwing the cover from his legs. Now he wished he had listened to his father and locked the damned door, but he was waiting on Brigitte, who was still at the hospital with her sick mother.

"Where's Dmitry?" she looked around the room.

"Not here," Anatoly said curtly. "Probably in one of the guest bedrooms." He wiped his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked again.

"I need to talk to him," she said absently.

Anatoly rolled his eyes. He stood and up and stretched. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Not now… "

"Yes, now." Anatoly walked up to her and closed the doors behind them.

"Anatoly, did you not hear what I said? I need to talk to your father."

"I heard you," he said in a huff. "And I just said that I need to talk to you."

"Make it quick," Royal said unmoved.

"What's going on with you, huh? You're like… like crazy woman, running around here mad as hell." He circled around her.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She folded her arms.

"Oh, you don't? I don't recall you being such a bitch before you got married to my father. In fact, you weren't like this a year ago. What the fuck is going on with you?"

"I don't expect you to understand, Anatoly. And I don't owe you an explanation. What is going on with your father and me is my business."

"It's everyone's business when affects as many people as it does."

"How do our marital problems affect you? You live in Memphis, remember. You're only visiting."

"And why did he leave?"

"Because he didn't want to… "

"He. Left. For. You." He pointed at her.

"I know why he left." She flared her nostrils.

"You know. I'm going to say this and then I leave alone," he ran his hands through his hair. His broken English worsened as he became more agitated. "You used to be someone totally different, someone more for him than anyone else. Now, you're into titles, money and this proper fake-ass lifestyle instead of being the mother and wife he sacrificed for. If you ask me, he got raw end of deal with you."

"Sacrifice?" She prepared to defend.

"Don't give me your same old
Ivan-fucked-me
routine."

Royal slapped him hard in his face. Tears dropped from her eyes as she did.

His voice was lower now. He moved closer to her. "You don't think he's made sacrifices too? Whether you like it or not, he doesn't owe you anything. He just chooses to give it to you, but you know, if I really look at it, you owe him everything."

"Then it's a good thing that your view doesn't count," she said angrily. "You men are all the same.
Shake it off. Move on.
What if it were your mother, Anatoly? Or a woman you really loved? It's not that easy to get over, even when you try your best. And my best may not be up to your standards,
oh great and powerful fucking mob boss
, but it's mine. And when your father, my husband feels the need to address it, then it will be addressed with him—not his son."

Anatoly was silent.

Royal rolled her eyes but did not move. She was not the least bit intimidated by him. And after all that she had gone through, Anatoly knew it.

"
If
you love him… "

"I
do
love him."

"Then maybe you should drop the act."

"Let this be the last time that you ever feel comfortable discussing my marriage with me."

"Yes,
Mistress
," he said condescendingly as she slammed the door behind her.

Walking fast, she headed down the long corridor, opening the doors to the many bedrooms as she went. She checked Anya's room, Davyd's room, five guest rooms, and finally she came upon the last guest room at the end of the hall.

As she opened the large, embellished wood doors, it creaked. Under the moonlight, shining in from the large windows, she saw Dmitry lying in bed asleep.

Quietly, she closed the doors behind her and walked slowly over to him. He lay naked on his back with his hands planted behind the pillow. His muscles bulged from his colossal biceps, rippled down through his long, carved torso into his concrete abs that showed his vascular curves at his hips. The hair on his legs was dark and thick and covered the nearly five feet of length from his hip to his ankle. She was still amazed by his graceful temple, engulfed by his beauty.

Crawling into the bed beside him, she could not help but let her eyes linger down to his manhood snaked over the side of his thigh.

It had been so long since she had felt him inside of her, so long since she felt like a real woman. The thought made her cringe, and she paused in her anxiety for a moment as she remembered how alive she used to be.