Gabriel's Regret: Book 1 (The Medlov Men Series 2) (7 page)

Gabriel didn’t have to look behind him to know what Anatoly was talking about. He could feel her staring daggers at him right then.  “Honestly, I’d rather talk about the $10,000,000.”  Shaking his head, he leveled with his cousin. “We agreed that she’d move to a new place after the baby was born.” He sucked his teeth.  “Until then, I have to just grin and bear it.”

Anatoly didn’t beat around the bush. It just wasn’t his style.  “Briggy is a ticking time bomb.  Five months may be too long to simply grin and you already can’t bear it.”  He cut himself off before he said anymore.  If it was him, she’d already be on a plane headed back to Prague, baby or not.  But it wasn’t him and it wasn’t his child.

“Yeah, I know.”  Gabriel rolled his eyes.  “But what am I going to do, throw her in the street? She’s carrying my kid.” 

Throwing the burgers on the platter, Anatoly patted Gabriel on the shoulder sympathetically.  “Better you than me,” he said, walking the platter over to the food table. 

For some reason, that remark hit Gabriel in the wrong spot and instantly turned his stomach and his mood.  Maybe it was the stress of the deal or just the stress in general, but he felt suddenly irate.  Turning up his beer, he looked out to the pool where the kids were splashing in the water and tried to calm the ramping chaos inside of him.  

“Gabriel,” Royal said, taking off her sun hat.  Huge blue diamonds sparkled in both of her ears.

“Yeah.”  Gabriel spun around and wiped his face with his hand.  “What’s up?”

Having been married to Dmitry for many years, Royal knew when a man was at his wits end, even if he didn’t say so.  “Why don’t you go get out of that suit and tie and put on something more comfortable.  You look…stuffy,” she said, eyes full of understanding. 

Gabriel smirked.  Was it that obvious or was she that good?  Either way, he appreciated her gently veiled concern.  His smile thanked her.  “Yes ma’am.  Going to do that right now.”  

As he darted into the house avoiding all eye contact, Briggy stood up and quickly followed him, taking with her the unwelcomed tension that was starting to sour the day for everyone else.  

Leaning over to Royal as she rocked the baby, Renee whispered. “Thank you for that. I don’t know how much longer I could take her sitting there like a cat on a hot tin roof.” 

Royal put her hand on Renee’s arm. “No problem.”  She felt bad for her friend and for her situation.   It was no secret that Anatoly had been with Briggy first, but since the fall out between Gabriel and Briggy, it had suddenly become a sore subject. 

“I just wish that they’d get her ass out of here.  Every time I turn around, she’s grinning in Anatoly’s face now.” She shook her head in utter frustration. “I’m going to lose my shit.”

Anatoly walked over to Renee and reached out for Alexandria.  “She’s asleep,” he said, taking her into his arms.  He kissed the top of her head gently and cradled her. 

“I didn’t realize,” Renee said, picking up her glass of wine. 

Anatoly picked up on her tone.  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. 

Renee wasn’t one for arguments or making things complicated, but she had grown tired of the situation with Gabriel and Briggy.  “Do you really want to know?” she asked, looking up at her husband with fire in her eyes. 

Anatoly wasn’t sure how to respond.  Every time Renee asked that particular question, the answer that followed was usually something he regretted knowing.  “Tell you what.  Let me go and put her down to sleep and when I come back, I’ll let you know if I want to know or not, da.”

Renee cut her big brown eyes at him. “You’re such a smart ass, Ana.”  He had a way of making light of any situation.  Even then, she could feel a smile tugging the sides of her mouth. 

Pleased with himself, Anatoly bent down and kissed his wife on the lips. His voice growled.  “Be a good wife now.  Don’t make trouble.”  He said it knowing it would only make her bristle more, still he liked to make her mad. It made for great sex later.  

The taste of him lingered on Renee’s lips and created a major distraction.  As she watched him make his way for the door, she stood up too.  “I better go and help him put the baby to bed,” she said, licking her lips. 

Royal laughed as she flipped through her magazine. “Okay, girl.  Do what you do.”  Everyone knew exactly what that was. 

Dmitry smirked. 
Women.
  They were such fickle creatures.  One minute they were angry; the next minute they were horny. 

After everyone had gone, Dmitry stopped playing with his twins and got up off the ground.  Standing to his full seven feet, he wiped off his jeans and stretched his wide body. “Finally alone,” he said, relieved that all four of them had gone away for a while.  He looked down at his twins crawling by his bare feet. “Mostly alone.”  Taking a seat beside Royal, he picked up his chilled glass of vodka and looked out at Anya still swimming with Dylan in the pool. “She’s going to be exhausted tonight.  No story time.  No bouncing around.  Just straight to bed.” 

Royal had tunnel vision at the moment.  Pursing her red glossed lips, she turned to him in a quiet panic.  “Baby, why don’t you do something about this?”

Before she could get an answer, the new family nanny stepped out on the patio.  “It’s time for lunch and bath.” The older Russian woman eased over to the children and picked them both up in her arms. 

“Do you need some help, Ms. Gala?” Royal asked.  It was hard for even her to lug both of those huge boys around.  She didn’t understand how the 60-year old woman did it with such ease.

But Gala was old school, straight from the old country. 

“
Nyet.
  They are fine…very light.” She bounced them both, alternating kisses on both their chubby cheeks.  “I’ll leave you two to talk and take babies upstairs to the nursery. And Gala is fine. No need for formalities.”  

Biceps bulging in his thin gray T-shirt, Dmitry leaned over on the arm rest and touched his wife’s caramel face when they were alone again. “Do something about what?”

Her eyes grew big. “All of it,” she said, blinking fast. Had he not paid attention to anything that just transpired right in front of them?  Uncrossing her long legs, threw down her magazine. “Briggy-gate is going to tear this family apart.  Gabriel hates coming home now.  Anatoly has to walk on egg shells with Renee.  It’s ridiculous.” 

Dmitry tried to be the voice of reason.  “Living together under one roof can be difficult for multiple couples, even if they are family.  And sometimes, no matter how big the house is, there is going to be occasional friction.  But I’ve never been one to get involved in domestic affairs of other men, even my own children.  Honestly, it’s a bit below me.”

Royal wasn’t buying it, no matter how cool he behaved while the world burned at his feet.  Her head tilted as she probed deeper.  “So you mean to tell me, being the control freak that you are, all of this turmoil happening under your roof doesn’t bother you?”

He shrugged.  “I have bigger worries than who is squabbling with whom behind closed doors.  That is your job. You’re the woman of the house.  You’re supposed to keep things in order with the other women, not me.  What would that look like anyway?”  He might have been more relaxed these days but he was no mother hen. 

Royal cooled her heals and tried another approach. This wouldn’t work if she didn’t have his buy-in.  “If the men are distracted, it’s going to affect your cash flow eventually.”  She watched him take pause.  “They can’t have their head fully in the game if they are fighting between each other.  This Helen of Troy situation is going to blow up.  You watch what I say.”  

Dmitry didn’t agree.  “Or maybe it will work itself out.  You can’t always play mediator.  We have our problems, and they have theirs. This is normal.” 

Royal raised a brow.  “You may trivialize this now, but the last woman who created a problem for us in our relationship ended up with a bullet in her head and buried in an Italian winery if I recall.” 

Dmitry laughed at Royal, ignoring her adorable little scowl.  “And tell me, who called for that particular hit? True enough, I carried it out like I said that I would, but it was my dear sweet wife’s will after I told you that she was leaking information on Anatoly.” He winked at her. “Secrets, secrets.”  

Royal rolled her eyes.  “That’s beside the point.  Briggy isn’t with Gabriel anymore. They broke up, but she’s still here and that’s a problem.” Grabbing his large hand, she looked into his crystal blue eyes and rubbed a hand across the side of his blonde hair.  “What is your concern?  Why haven’t you done anything?  I know you see it. I know you too well, Dmitry.  You see everything around here whether you say something or not.”

“Briggy is not family – not in the traditional sense at least.  I agree with you on that.  However, the child she is carrying is a Medlov.  If we send her away, we send away our family, and we take away that child’s safety. That happened to Anatoly; it happened to Gabriel.  It won’t happen again to another generation, if I can help it.” 

“So, do you think that she’ll just give it up when it’s born?” 

“No.”  Dmitry lifted her slender hand and kissed it. He knew she meant well and that was all that mattered to him.  “But what has to be done must be done after the child is born.”

“I don’t like it when you keep secrets from me.  What are you planning to do?”

Dmitry glared at his wife.  “She’s not family,” he said, using her own words.  “What does it matter what I do, if I do anything at all?” 

Royal looked upside his head.  “Well, just for the record, I’m not ordering a hit on the damn girl,” she said facetiously.  “I’m just asking for some other arrangements to be made.”

He took another sip of his drink.  His voice was low and grave. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” she said sternly.

Dmitry winked at her, smile lines showing on his tanned face. “That was a just a joke. 
Relax, little drama queen.
I’m not going to kill her.”  Reaching over, he put his hand on her thigh and caressed it. There was something else on his mind, and it had nothing to do with Briggy or Gabriel. “Let’s just sit here and enjoy a quiet Saturday like we planned, da?  No more discussion about other people. It bores me.”

She looked over at her handsome husband, lounged out on the chair, sexy corded muscles protruding, and felt the need to be closer to him.  Standing up from her chair, she slipped onto his wide lap and threw her legs over his.  Nestling her head into his chest, she sighed.  “There. Is that better?” she asked in a whisper. 

A gentle breeze brushed past them, cooling both tempers.  “Much better,
spasiba
,” Dmitry said, lifting her small chin with his index finger.  He looked her in her eyes and drew her to his mouth.  Kissing her lush lips slowly, he clinched her waist and pushed her down on his growing erection.   “That’s what you need to be concerned about,” he groaned. 

Royal giggled as she kissed him, her fingers twisting in his feathery hair.  “I’m always concerned about that.”    

Dmitry teased her with his free hand. “Really?  How concerned are you?”

Royal was about to reply when Anatoly walked back out of the house, visibly brooding. 

Moving his lips from Royal’s neck, he looked back at his son.  “You do know that there was no rush to put Alexandria to sleep, right?” he quipped.  

Anatoly clutched his cell phone. “We just got a call from Allan.  Looks like we’ve got to go to Donetsk after all.” 

Dmitry rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes.  Every time that he thought things were under control with those boys something else happened.   “Was the load jacked?”

Anatoly bit his lip and slammed his cellphone into the palm of his hand. “Yep.  Couple of casualties too.”

Dmitry clenched his jaw until his teeth scrubbed together.  “Get the men to my office now.”

Royal wasn’t exactly sure what Dmitry and Anatoly were talking about, but she knew whatever it was wasn’t good.  Pulling herself out of his embrace, she stood up. “So much for a quiet Saturday.”

Chapter Three

Make Good on My Name…

More than any other quality that could be attributed to the infamous Czar of the Russian underworld,
and there were many
, Dmitry Medlov was a man of action. It was not just a perception.  It was his mantra in life - what he lived by, what he had built his fortune upon one pain-staking dollar at a time, what he built his family upon with every life lesson. He was the rock of this organization and this family and his word was his bond – solid oak.  His name was his legacy.  And he did not compromise that for anyone, not even his precious boys.

No matter how much Dmitry loved Anatoly and Gabriel, no matter how proud overall he was of how they had turned out as individuals, at the end of the day, they were still his captains, bound to do his will and to follow his orders.  It was because of that he could not go easy on them, because if he did, they would never learn anything, and they would never be able to run this organization with an iron hand the way that he had done for two decades.

With the sun at his back, sitting behind his large wooden desk in the elegant study, Dmitry’s intense gaze zeroed in on the men who would eventually carry on his work. Both Gabriel and Anatoly sat silently, the grandfather clock ticking in the background and the crystal pendulum swinging from side to side on the desk, waiting for him to convene this emergency meeting. 

When Boris stepped inside and closed the door behind him, he nodded for this boss to begin.

Hearing the door close, Anatoly didn’t wait for the lecture that he knew was coming.  Instead, he started in with answers immediately.  “We’ll handle it, Papa,” he said flatly.  “The jet is being fueled as we speak.  We’ll arrive in Prague tomorrow and get the new shipment ready.  By the day after tomorrow, we’ll have arranged something with our officials in Kiev to get to Donetsk. I’ve already informed Allan, and he’s letting his people know.”  

“I’m sure he appreciated the call, despite the collateral damage,” Dmitry said, easing at the sign of progress. 

Gabriel looked between the men and wrung his hands. “How did we get to this?” he grimaced, disgusted that suddenly he was responsible for the Ukrainians’ incompetence.

Dmitry’s head snapped to his nephew, perplexed by the young man’s tone. Barely holding on to his composure, he pushed out a breath. The thud of his fingers tapping on the desk before he simply said, “Explain yourself, Gabriel.”

Shit.

Anatoly raised a thick blonde brow and slid back in his chair, unsure if Gabriel understood the depths into which he was submerging himself.  Hadn’t his cousin learned the signs over the years?  This was not a time to express frustration, not with Dmitry. Family or not, the man only understood one thing when it came to business – money.  And they had just potentially cost him a lot of it.  Covering his face with a hand, he waited for the explosion. 

Gabriel felt a cold chill run up his spine as he watched the vein in Dmitry’s forehead protrude and pulse like a heartbeat in the flickering rays of sunlight that beamed across his face. Evidently, that little opinion had offended his uncle.  Immediately, he felt his manhood under attack without so much as a word from the men around him.  He’d need to explain with a more careful tone, if he was going to survive this. “I don’t understand how we are culpable,
is what I mean
.” A knot formed in his stomach and his throat tightened around his clumsy words.  “The shipment was delivered as we said it would be to the place we originally agreed. That was our responsibility, and we fulfilled it.”  Drowning in his own words, he looked over to Anatoly for help, but Anatoly’s face was stone.  He turned back to Dmitry, blinking quickly.  “We can’t help it if at the last minute they needed a special escort.  I don’t understand how this situation suddenly became our obligation.  This is
their
incompetence, not ours.” The sincerity in his voice was louder even more so than his trembling words.

Anatoly shook his head. 
Big mistake.
 

Postured in an authoritative upright position, Dmitry glared at Gabriel like at any moment he was going to reach out and literally snatch his soul out of his body.  Finally, he smacked his lips and smirked, his voice deceptively calm.  “I don’t know what bothers me more.  Your arrogance or your naiveté.”  He pushed up in the chair and planted his sharp elbows on the table top. Lacing his fingers together and gripping them, his knuckles turned white.  As he did, the myriad of tattoos lining his forearms were put in clear view. 

Gabriel sat back in his seat and rubbed a hand through his hair.  “Uncle, I’m…sorry.”  

“No one gets to where I am without having made a few mistakes along the way, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and
assume
that your actions were because you did not know any better.” Dmitry rolled his broad shoulders in agitation.  “However, the benefit of the doubt isn’t enough for this situation, is it?” His eyes burned through Gabriel, like a father scorning his son. 

“No,” Gabriel answered, head cowering down.

“No,” Dmitry repeated, eye twitching. “Do you know why you don’t have any tattoos, Gabriel?”

This was a sore subject for him, but Gabriel answered. “Because you wanted the new guys to blend more in regular society.”  Gabriel’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “And because I never did any time, never really served with any real guys, so it would be forced, therefore disrespectful to the code.” 

Dmitry’s square jaw clenched as he grinded his teeth.  Such haughtiness.  Such entitlement.  It was enough to make him spit.  “When you really drill down the crux of it, it’s because I paved the way for you to be able to
blend
, because I served the time in a hell-hole prison with animals who would have rather eaten my intestines for dinner than cut me an ounce of slack, because I built this with my bare fucking hands with your father well before you were a thought in this world.”  His scowl stretched the span of his angelic face and he was no longer an uncle; now he was a boss.

“The reason you and your cousin are doing ten-million dollars deals in five-star hotels is because of the hundred dollar deals I did in pissy, whore-infested alleyways of Moscow two decades ago.  The reason you have a jet to jump your
narrow ass
on and fly around the world to redo shit that should have been done right in the first place is because I bought the plane and I fucking have the relationships.  The reason that you can come home, fuck your pretty little psychotic girlfriend and wreak havoc during my Saturday afternoon cookout is because of the men that I pay to keep you protected while you’re out there with your bullet-proof cars and your thousand dollar suits using my last name every time that your fucking feet hit the pavement.” 

Dmitry’s booming voice rose, echoing around the room, past the doors, down the hall long hallway.  Turning his eyes to Anatoly, he sucked his teeth. “So when I tell you to do something, when I tell you that you’re making a mistake,” he slowly began to rise from his chair and planted his fingertips on the desk, “when I advise you to handle relationships that I have been growing for years with a little more care, then you damn well. Better.  Fucking. Listen!”  His large hand balled into a fist and slammed down on the wooden desk, leaving a crack in the middle and knocking the crystal trinkets onto the floor. 

A bemused Gabriel sat frozen in place, eyes wide, muscles locked. Quiet chaos enveloped the room and heartbeats became palpable rhythms beating against both men’s chest cavities.  Swallowing down nervousness, Gabriel looked up at Dmitry with absolute fear and in that moment, he knew that he had crossed a line that he would never cross again. 

Realizing his anger may have gotten the best of him; Dmitry looked down at the broken desk and wiped his foaming mouth.  Calmer, he began again, “From what I understand, according to the two of you, the Ukrainian contact was killed, the shipment taken and my name tarnished all in a matter of hours.”  Brushing a finger over the dent in the desk, he looked up at Gabriel. “Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Gabriel answered quickly. 

“It was my fault, Papa. I told him to do it when he called and asked me what to do,” Anatoly said, trying to carry some of the heavy burden for Gabriel. 

Dmitry waved a dismissive hand as he moved from behind the desk.  “You’re both equally responsible.  He looked at Gabriel.  “I put you two in charge of these deals because I trust that you not only have exceptional business acumen,” he glanced at Anatoly, “but also common sense.  Between the two of you geniuses, someone should have been able to step up and get this done right.” 

“It will never happen again,” Gabriel promised. 

“Oh, I know,” Dmitry said, his voice laced with grave warning.  His tone lightened as he gave a facetious toothy grin.  “From now on, I want finesse. I want relationship-building. I want fucking top-notch, five-star excellence.”  He curled his lips.  “But for now, I want you two out of my sight.  Go deliver the product, fix my reputation and more than anything, do not come back here without my ten million dollars.  As I have discussed with you previously, the Ukrainians, specifically the Romanuk family, does business with us at least four times a year at forty-million dollars a year in munitions buys.  You either convince them to continue the relationship or pay me the revenue I lose if they take their business elsewhere.  End of story.”

Having heard quite enough, Anatoly stood up from his chair. “I’ll be back in five days.”

Gabriel stood up as well, feeling far more responsible for the deal, because he had been the one to arrange it.  “I’ll be back when I’m sure I’ve taken care of things.  On my word as a Medlov and a Vor, I will fix this.” 

Dmitry didn’t respond, instead he pointed his index finger to the door. 

Walking out of the study together feeling equally emasculated, Anatoly smirked at Gabriel as they darted down the long hall past the security personnel. 

“What?” Gabriel asked, knowing that Anatoly had something smart to say. 

“That last part was a bit over the top, even for you.”  Anatoly mocked his cousin. “On my word as a Medlov and a Vor, I will fix this.”  He shook his head. “Like you have a fucking choice in the matter.  When the old man says do it, it doesn’t matter who you are, you fucking do it…or die.”

“Do you really think he’d kill us?” Gabriel asked, feet echoing against the limestone. 

“Well, let’s see.  He had your father and my grandfather killed and that’s just the family.  What do you think, college boy?”  Anatoly asked, knowing that his father would never kill him at least.  However, he wasn’t sure about Gabriel.

Gabriel stopped and turned to Anatoly.  “Why do you always ask me what I think?  Obviously, what I think is not getting things done around here.  If you know your father so well, then fucking tell me when I’m about to talk myself into getting my ass kicked next time.”

Obviously, the outburst had affected Gabriel based upon the sweat still lingering on his brow.  Anatoly rubbed a hand over his beard and chuckled.  “Well, I didn’t know that you were going to say something so stupid.”

“What would you have had me say?”

“Nothing at all would have sufficed.”  Anatoly began to walk again.  “I’ve only got a few minutes to say what I need to say to Renee.  I’ll meet you back down here in 10 minutes.  Don’t be late fucking with your girlfriend.”

“Ten minutes?” Gabriel frowned.  He stopped at the bottom of the stairwell.  “Are you not going to pack?  We’re going to be gone for at least five days.”

Anatoly headed up the stairs in the foyer toward his wing of the mansion. “There will be no packing, cousin.  We can regroup when we get to Prague, where it’s safe.” 

***

The relaxing music bellowing from the downstairs veranda drifted up to the second floor balcony of Renee and Anatoly’s bedroom suite as early afternoon turned into a lazy Saturday evening.  In the dark gray room, illuminated only by the open windows casting a calming glow, Renee listened to Al Green sing about love and happiness as she waited, naked and heated, in their marriage bed for her husband to return.   

In the middle of what promised to be a very enjoyable oral confrontation earlier with Anatoly’s skilled tongue, his cell phone had rudely interrupted them.  Locked in a passionate embrace, her legs were wrapped around his neck; fingers planted in his mass of wild blonde hair, the phone on the nightstand began to sound loudly.  Instantly, the sound of it made her heart lurch.  Anatoly’s phone only rang when there was an emergency; therefore, he always answered it no matter the time. 

With an apology, he rose from her supple thighs, dragging his nails against the back of her legs and grabbed his phone, answering with her wetness still lingering on his lips. 

“
Chto eto
?” he had asked, sucking her essence off his bottom lip. 

She heard a man’s voice, urgent on the other end.  The man went on for minutes before taking a breath and with each second that passed, she knew that it was someone calling Anatoly away from her once again.  Rising up on her elbows, she looked at Anatoly as his face went dark and then slack, like he had had just received very bad news. She watched on quietly as he hung the phone up and stared at her naked form, covered in a thin layer of sweaty mist, and then pulled himself shirtless out of the bed.