"Dmitry… " Royal said confused.
"Do you not realize that you are not safe with this man? He is only committed to the Vory. He always has been. It's why he lied to you about his return. It's why he married you falsely, under a different name, because legally you are not married at all, and he is still within the coveted code that means more to him than you. I bought you here to see for yourself, Royal."
Royal looked over at her husband and felt faint. It had never dawned on her that he had staged her death to marry her fraudulently. The pain of the truth stabbed through her like the knives Ivan had used to try to kill her.
"What about the truce?" she asked. She looked over at Dorian for answers.
"He is right about one thing. There can be no truce," Dorian explained. His face changed. He no longer looked trusting. "Because he will never stop and I will never forgive."
"He planted it on our jet, Royal. He plans nothing more than to eliminate our family, and if you are not compliant to eliminate you," Dmitry said, standing strong. "Look around, Dorian. While your men scatter at the very sight of this contraption that you yourself built, my men are ready to die… to stop this now. And we will die. I came here to stop you for good. And as much as I love my wife, if I have to take her with me to stop this, I will. You will not have her or my daughter or my son. You will not destroy another life like did with your half-sister, Ari."
Royal put her hands on her head and looked down at the floor. So that was the connection. Ivan's dead wife was Dorian's sister. It would explain why Ivan was sexually fixated with her. It would explain why Dorian wanted her here. It would explain why this had to end, why it would not stop. She sighed.
"I didn't destroy her. You did when sent Ivan to kill me, when you killed her, when you killed your own brother," Dorian shot back.
"So much of a holy man, yet so out for revenge," Dmitry noted. "Hypocrite."
"An eye for an eye, Dmitry," Dorian said. "If it's of any consequence, I have no plans of hurting her. And I think I'll make a fine father."
Falling to her knees, Royal cried out.
"You lied to me, Dmitry. You said you that you would never return," she said on the ground in tears. "Now look at all that you've caused again!"
"I am sorry, my love. I only did this for the family. I had no desire to return."
"Why couldn't you just walk away?"
"Did you think if this deal went down, even if I did not participate that it would not affect our family? This is about him and his vendetta."
"You lied to me," she cried. "You lied!"
Dorian walked over to her. He placed a hand on her exposed shoulder. He felt for the confused woman. She had been doubly deceived.
It was never his intention to form a truce. It was only his intention to expose Dmitry as Ivan had failed to do and take her away from the life that she hated, where she was guarded and unable to even have her own name. Plus, it was an eye for an eye. A wife for a wife. A life for a life.
"I will give you the life that you deserve," he said softly to Royal. "You and your beautiful daughter. I will listen to you. I. Will. Love. You.," he said convincingly. "I will not deny you a full existence. He will. Can't you see that now?"
The sight infuriated Dmitry beyond control. He howled out. "How dare you! I will kill the very thought of you! This is my country! This is my shit! That is my fucking wife! And you, you are not without blame. You have killed, murdered, destroyed no differently than me. Now you feel entitled to my life?" He foamed at the mouth like a mad dog. "The only mistake I ever made was not killing you myself, but I'll rectify it tonight."
Dmitry's men prepared to strike, guns pointed, eyes focused. The other men scurried to the door, some snuck out quietly, running away from a sure detonation.
"I will blow this entire city to high fucking hell, and I will laugh as I do it before I let you take her and destroy her anymore than she has already been harmed by my sick-ass brother, or your whore of sister, or my own sins."
"Ah, now the truth comes out, brother." Dorian laughed. "You are jealous."
"You and Ivan were a monstrosity!" Dmitry screamed. "The both of you! Worthless men who would hide their hand after throwing a rock. Scared little boys, the both of you. Both unworthy of living. Well, one is dead. One is left."
"Stop," Royal cried.
"And you the big bad wolf that never hid anything but his money. How are you so different?"
"When I kill a man, I do it face-to-face. I never hide behind bomb. I never hide my fucking hand."
"But you could so easily hide everything else," Dorian countered. "Even from the woman that you claim to love."
"He's right, Dmitry," Royal cried. "I'm tired of being something that I'm not. You lied. How can I trust again? We are not even married. I am a fraud. This marriage is a fraud. This man has offered me peace. He has offered me a new life. And you would rather kill me than see me happy."
Dorian smiled. He was happy to have her feed in although she was so terribly wrong.
"Royal?" Dmitry whispered her named. "Royal, what are you saying? Do you know what he will do to you? He will destroy you. He will destroy our child, our dreams. I love you. You are my wife. You are my entire world!"
"Lies! All lies!" she screamed.
Still on her knees, she placed her hands firmly on the ground under the bottom of her long, flowing black dress and rocked herself while Dorian looked over at Dmitry, satisfied with how her words had dismantled him. She cried aloud, cried for the pain, cried for the rape, cried for her daughter, cried until she was nearly invisible in the room.
"That's it, motherfucker," Dmitry said, headed for him.
Dorian welcomed it. He braced himself for the rush.
Then sly, curled up on the floor, Royal pulled the gun from under her dress and quickly pulled the trigger. She felt the jerk of the powerful weapon push her backwards. It happened so fast until she was not even certain that she had hit her target. It pained her to look.
Before Dorian could look back down at her, he heard the loud explosion. It was the first of many shots. People dropped around the room in a blink of an eye as men pointed their guns and aimed. The clicks of machinery filled the room. In slow motion, Dorian looked down at his stomach to find blood spewing from his would.
He fell to his knees behind her in dismay. Rubbing his hands over his injury, he collapsed on the hard floor with his eyes focused in on her.
"Hiding you hand is always a bad thing," Royal said, shooting him once more. Blood splattered on her face and across the room.
Around her, bullets whizzed. Again déjà vu. She curled up by the dead man to take cover and looked across the room as her husband attacked Dorians men in a full animalistic rage.
Guns blazing, Dmitry's men ripped through the remainder of Dorians men, while he slaughtered them with his knives, slicing them open with quick wrists movements and angry punches. Dropping the knives, he stood like a mountain in his place, Desert Eagle guns in both hands pumping bullets into the walls, blasting the glass and killing them all.
She saw the satisfaction in his face. The completion of his act was startling. Her husband was a monster, but she loved him. And he had only returned for her. She knew that. She knew him, regardless of what some stranger told her.
She heard heavy footsteps running towards her. Closing her eyes to prepare for whatever would come, she felt Dmitry land on top of her, still shooting and protecting her.
He finally stood in the silent room, all of Dorians men dead, some of Dmitry's as well. He picked Royal up in his arms, scooped her up from the floor with Dorians blood drenching the train of her dress. Dropping the disengaged bomb from his body onto Dorians chest, he quickly hurried out in the hotel.
The gun shots alarmed the people dancing carefree at the ball in the adjourning room. They heard the screams and saw the men running out covered in blood creating mass hysteria. Hundreds of people flooded out of the ballroom, trampling over their masks and pushing each other
to get away from apparent doom as security pushed through unsuccessfully to get towards the backroom.
Dmitry, Royal and his men blended in with the crowd as they ran quickly out of the building and loaded into their cars.
* * *
The deal was complete. The cargo was moved by the Spetsnaz from its safe location in Sochi to cargo boats outside of the city on the waterway that would drop the goods off across the Black Sea in Istanbul with a very eager group of Jewish freedom fighters coming up from Israel to meet him. His father had done it. He had made Anatoly a living legend. Only at what cost?
Still in his tux, Anatoly sat on Bardzeckis yacht alone looking out across the dark water as the fireworks were set off on the pier. The vibrant colors lit up the skyline with vivid hues of happiness. He looked up in a daze recalling his fathers advise for the hundredth time. His father had warned him, but he had ignored him. Don't send her, if you care for her. Now, he was alone on the yacht with no word from Victoria.
He told her to meet him immediately after. A small speed boat would bring her from the shore to the yacht, and she would travel with him to Istanbul, maybe do some shopping in the Grand Bazaar and definitely a quick stop in the art district of Nuruosmaniye Caddesi to get rid of the hideous bust he had bought tonight for $550 million.
Only, when he called her phone, it went straight to voicemail—a definite sign that something was wrong, possibly horribly wrong.
For the life of him he could not understand why Victoria meant anything at all to him. He had tried to rationalize how losing her would be a good thing, how sending her into harms way would show how much he despised her. Yet, he found himself spending far too much thinking about the simplest words she said or the looks that she gave him. In just a couple of days, he had become bewitched, though he would never admit it. Maybe he wouldn't have to.
He took a sip from his drink and looked out across the waterway at the city moving farther and farther away.
Chapter 22
A beautiful sunset casted a tranquil glow over the Medlov Chateau as the family prepared for a huge dinner for the family and staff. A month had passed since the Dorian incident, and things were finally back to normal.
Royal and Dmitry had committed to being completely transparent, and Anatoly had been off for a month selling his inventory around the world. Anya had even started to attend a school in town only blocks from the boutique that Royal and Dmitry drove her to and picked her up from every day.
Tonight, the feast was larger than ever. Food had been prepared all day, and the house was cleaned and opened in celebration of Dmitry and Royal's newest addition to the Medlov Family scheduled to arrive in eight months.
The news had come as shocker weeks after the two arrived back from Sochi in the form of morning sickness for Royal. Dmitry was ecstatic at the prospect of doing it right this time, and they quickly headed to the doctor for confirmation and prenatal care.
Royal's enormous appetite had Dmitry cooking constantly. He prepared special meals for her every day at the restaurant and spent his nights picking out names and preparing the nursery, which adjoined to Anya's bedroom. For the family, this was their third chance at a new life, and they intended to succeed this time.
The dinner had already started when Anatoly arrived. He came in with bags of gifts for everyone and doggy treats for Anya's puppy. The family had all but begged him to fly in.
Since Sochi, he seemed very much removed from everyone, always working and never spending time with the family anymore. Dmitry knew that it was because of Victoria. Only, every time that he dared broach the topic, Anatoly only withdrew more. It took Anya calling to invite him to the party for him to come. He could never resist his little sister.
His blonde locks mirrored his fathers. They had both grown their hair back, only Anatoly had also grown a full beard. His tanned face was aged slightly, and he had a permanent scowl.
"Anatoly!" Anya screamed when she saw him. She ran across the foyer and jumped in his arms.
Dropping the bags, he quickly picked her up and swung her around, glad to see his favorite girl. "How are you, baby?" he asked, kissing her rosy cheeks. "I've missed you so much."
"We've missed you, too," she said as he put her down. "Where have you been?"
"Around," he said, rubbing through her hair. "I brought all these beautiful pink boxes just for you. They are full of gifts from around the globe, even from Disneyworld."
Her face lit up. "Oh, thank you. Thank you, Anatoly," she said, hugging him.
Royal rounded the corner slightly pudgy and glowing. She extended her arms and hugged him warmly. Rubbing his beard, she kissed his cheek and grabbed his hand.
"I was hoping that you would show," she said, guiding him to the dining hall. "Everyone is already here."
"I'm sure that no one came to see me," he said gruffly. "You look great. Big and pregnant."
"Shut up," she said laughing.
"No, the look fits you. You should stay knocked up."
They entered into the main dining hall to see all the staff from the house, the restaurant and the boutique along with acquaintances of Dmitry and Royal at the various tables eating, drinking and talking.
All eyes went to Anatoly as he walked through the door with Royal. As usual the women swooned and whispered about him. A month ago, he would have taken a mental note of each and everyone one, but tonight he simply made his way to his fathers table.
Dmitry stood and gave him a hug. They laughed and embraced each other, and then Dmitry offered him a seat.
"Good to see you, son. How's life?"
"Busy, papa. Good to see you, too."
Dmitry wiped his mouth with his napkin and gave a clever grin. He looked over at Royal and winked his eye.
"I have brought special wine from my last trip to Italy. Why don't you go into kitchen and grab it for me?"
"Wine? Papa, I'm boss now. Why do you send me to do these types of things?"
"Because it is from the new winery that I just purchased last week. I already have someone running it, but I'd like for you to sample it. Tell me if you like it."
"Alright," he sighed. "Where is it?"
"I left it on countertop."
"What it is called? I'm sure that there is more than one bottle in kitchen, old man." He was almost short with his father.
"It's called donna bella."
"Beautiful woman?"
"Yes, you like?" Dmitry's eyes were eager.
"That's not very original, papa" he said, standing up. "I'll be right back."
Anatoly made his way through the crowds of people, past the servers to the kitchen. He walked in and looked to the long island in front of the door and grabbed the bottle. Sure enough. A bottle of Donna Bella was sitting there waiting for him.
He picked it up and looked at the bottle. It was sort of a catchy name now that he thought about it, and the label was impressive with gold foil and crimson and green colors. Okay, maybe he was being too hard on the old man.
"What are you drinking?" a voice asked, behind him in the corner.
Anatoly looked up from the bottle but wouldn't turn around.
"Wine," he clenched his jaw.
He heard the click of heels behind him, moving towards him slowly. He could feel the sway of her hips even before he could see her.
"Chardonnay? What year?" the voice asked.
Anatoly turned slowly to find Victoria standing behind him in a pair of skinny jeans that showed her bow-legs and stilettos that made her even taller. Her long hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she sported large diamond studs. She gave a big smile and blushed slightly at the look on his face.
She took the bottle from him and grabbed the two glasses waiting beside it. Pouring him a glass, she handed it to him.
"I'm doing you the courtesy of not sneaking it to you like a fucking snake. Now drink it," she mocked.
Anatoly took the glass and drank all of the wine then pulled her into him. They looked at each other for a lon
g while in the silence of the kitchen. She ran her hands through his curly locks and down through his scruffy beard, and he held her close clenching her waist and thighs.
"I thought you were dead," he confessed.
"Your father has a very long reach. The woman who worked for Dorian was paid off the day of the event by Dmitry to get me to Kerch."
"Kerch?"
"Yeah, I'd never been there before. Anyway, this woman pulls a gun on me, then escorts me out the back of the studio after the transaction had been made. The next day, I ended up in Kerch. I was there for weeks, and then I went to Yalta." She shrugged her shoulders. "The Ukraine is really a pretty place."
"Some parts of it. My father told me that he had friends in Kerch."
"Yeah, some pretty heavy hitters, too. I stayed there until he sent for me, and then I ended up in Italy at a damned winery. Your father was there talking to some Italian guy in Italian. So, I didn't even know what they were saying. Then he offered me a job to work there, market his stuff, you know legit work. He bought the damned winery that day, and I got a sweet job. It's nice."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I wanted to, but Dmitry and Royal insisted that I did not. They said to get my life straight first, make sure the heat was off of that last thing, because it was all over the world news and everything, and then when it was time, I could see you again."
Anatoly looked down at the ground. "I should have never sent you there."
"It's the best thing you have done. Really," she lifted his chin.
"So you're not a deviant anymore?"
"Oh, yeah," she laughed. "I'm just not setting up old rich guys anymore. I sell wine," she laughed. "But I've missed you."
He leaned against the island and pulled him to her. "Missed you."
"Are you hungry?"
"Not really."
"Want to get out here. Maybe go to the condo?" she asked. "It has been a month."
Anatoly patted his pockets. "I've got my keys right here. Lets go."
Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen Page 19