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.
Chapter 13
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."
"I'm only using her to cover my ass. I'll get rid of her in a few months."
"Bullshit."
"I don't love her."
"Can't help who you love."
"If I start to fall for her, I'll put bullet in her head."
Dmitry didn't say another word. He gave his son a disapproving look and tasted his borscht. ***
Royal washed her daughters hair carefully, separating the delicate strands and brushing through the curly black locks one section at a time. She had been doting over Anya for over an hour now in the bathroom.
While the act was so small, it was so meaningful. Where had all the time gone? What had she been doing for months on end that she would have missed her small angel grow so much? The questions brought tears to her eyes. This was what she lived for, to be with the child that she nearly died for and would die for again over and over if she had to.
"Momma, why are being so nice?" Anya asked, squeezing her rubber ducky until it squealed and shot out water. "You are being my best friend again."
Royal smiled while inside her heart broke. "I'm sorry, Anya, for everything. I'm being nice, because I realize that I need to treat you more special than I have in the past."
"So you love me now?"
"I've always loved you." She turned her daughters face towards her own and rubbed the water from her rosy cheeks. "Don't you know that Momma would do anything for you?"
"Yes," she said proudly. "And I'll do anything for you and Daddy. I'll be four next month. I can buy you both two white ponies."
"Just what we've always wanted," Royal brushed through her hair again. "It's quite a big feat to make it to four years old. We should have a big princess party for you."
"Did you have a princess party when you turned four?"
"No, I wasn't as special as you are."
"Momma, you are too special. Daddy says so all the time."
Dmitry walked into the bathroom and smiled at the sight of his wife and daughter. Grabbing a chair from across the room, he sat beside the tub and put a towel in his lap. "Let Papa dry you off, princess."
Royal helped her out of the large bathtub and into her fathers arms, where he quickly covered her with the oversized towel. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
"Love you, Daddy," she said, rubbing her nose on his.
"Oh, I love you too, my sweet one," he said, holding her tight. He looked up at his wife and saw hurt on her face.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just," she sighed. "I realize how much I've neglected my own daughter."
Dmitry dried Anya off and pulled her hair out of her face. "When I was child, I would have killed for the attention that you call neglect," he said cleverly. "And if you were to ask me, Anya doesn't look like she's going without much." He ran his large fingers over the carat diamonds in his daughters ears.
Royal knew that he was just trying to make her feel better. She took her daughter out of his arms and put her on her hip. "I'm going to get her dressed, and were going to go downstairs and have a great time. Aren't we, Anya." She smiled at him more warmly than she had in many years.
"Papa is making borscht for you," Dmitry added. "It's going to be great time."
"Do you know how lucky we are to have your father," Royal asked her daughter.
"Yep," Anya said cheerfully. "Daddy, you need to get dressed too. You can't wear that."
"I will honey, after Momma gets you dressed, she'll come back and help me with a few things," he explained. His eyes sparkled. "Then Daddy will help her get dressed and then we go down for party."
* * *
While every arrangement could be made downstairs, and Anya helped the maids set the tables with beautiful Khokloma dishes, Royal and Dmitry were getting reacquainted with each other in the confines of their bedroom.
He stood across the dimly lit room by the bed undressing her with his eyes. His sensual looks made her blush, made heat rise from her body and singe her cheeks.
He had a way of clenching his wide jaw and staring at her that made her feel naked, even when she was fully dressed. He licked his lips and smirked. Naughty thoughts filled his head, making him dizzy with lust.
"I could get used to this," he confessed.
"So could I," she said, happy with herself.
"Are you… back for good, or is this a glimpse of what I could have had?"
She walked very slowly across the room, making him watch the sway of her hips and stood at his feet. Laying her hand on his lower chest, she watched him take a deep breath, like he was anticipating lightning and thunder.
"I'm back for good," she whispered. "Or at least for as long as you'll have me."
He grabbed her quickly and pulled her up in his arms. With a passionate sigh, he kissed her open mouth and laid her on the bed.
"Oh, I'll have you," he answered. "Every day for the rest of my life."
"It's strange. I don't know what happened. The thought of losing you to another woman made me realize how much I needed you. I've been so foolish, Dmitry. All I've thought about is myself and what I've gone through, but I didn't stop long enough to think about you and all that you've given up to be with me and Anya."
"I've given up nothing."
The words stung inside. He knew that they were true and that he was deceiving her even as he made love to her. The treachery was nauseating. Still, he hid his heavy burden in hopes that after the deal his secret would simply go away.
"You should never be ashamed of your sadness." He cringed. "The fact that you showed honest emotion and were not afraid to grieve for your many losses shows how much of a real woman you are. I could not have handled the same torture that you endured with such dignity."
Royal smiled. "Do you know in all the time that we've been together you have never said one mean thing to me? It's almost unreal. I mean, I know how much of a bitch that I've been. Don't think that I don't." They both laughed. "But you always are careful with me, never cruel."
"Why would I? You are the only woman who has ever sacrificed everything for me. And at such a high cost… "
"Lets not talk about that. Lets do what your eyes were saying a minute ago," she said, running her hands down to his jeans.
"I'm afraid what they were saying involved actions so distasteful, so… " he breathed in as he felt her slim hand slip inside of his pants and grasp his throbbing penis. "So you like distasteful, eh?"
"I adore it," she purred.
Chapter 14
Dawn broke the horizon and slipped through the heavy curtains in Anatoly's room. He stared up at the ceiling watching the large fan whirl above him. His mind was on Victoria. If he closed his eyes, he saw her. When he breathed, he smelled her perfume. The thought of that wicked bitch incited a riot throughout his entire body. Damn her to hell. He had to have her, even if just once.
The night before, his father had eyed him the entire dinner. And for some ungodly reason, Brigitte clung to him in a very subtle but irritating way. While everyone else was eating, drinking and talking, she sat close, smiled at him and continued to try to make conversation.
He had to end things with her, make her go away. His life was getting far too complicated. Just then he heard his door open.
He sat up in bed and watched as Brigitte closed the door behind her and leaned against the door in her bab
y blue uniform.
" Bon jour," she whispered with a wanting look upon her fair beautiful features.
Anatoly did not speak. Though he could not deny his constant enchantment by her utter bewitching good looks, he knew he was no good for her. He tapped the bed beside him and ran his hands through his hair.
She walked up to the bed and sat beside him. Rubbing his scruffy beard, she leaned in to kiss him, but he quickly moved.
"Net. We need to talk," his voice was flat.
"So talk," she said, feeling her stomach turn.
"We can't do this anymore." He met her bright eyes.
"Why?"
"You are good girl. You need man who will be faithful and loving and… take care of you. I will not. I may tell you that I will, but I won't."
"I don't want your money."
"I'm not talking about money. I'm talking about you."
"Anatoly… "
"I am not my father," he interrupted. "Don't think that what he does for my stepmother will translate to me and you. I'm not that sincere."
"I know. I just thought… "
"It won't work. I don't want it to."
"Did I do something?" Tears formed in the corner of her eyes and her small mouth quivered.
He scratched his forehead and frowned. "No. It's not you at all." It’s her, he thought to himself. "How is your mother? Is she better?" he asked, wanting to change the subject. His decision had been made. This would end now.
"No. Pretty soon I'll be all alone in this world." Tears ran down her face. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head. It felt as though the entire world had just stopped spinning.
"Well, you'll always have my parents," he stood up. "I've got to shower and head out of here. I really am sorry, Brigitte." He rubbed her shoulder. "I'm still here if you need anything… financially."
"I won't." She stood up, straightened her uniform and left.
* * *
Brigitte left Anatoly's room with her head up, but as soon as she closed the large doors behind her, the tears broke through and trickled down her face.
Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen Page 12