The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov: Book One

by Latrivia Nelson

  Suddenly, she was afraid. She had never had this Ivan before. He was far more intimate, more real.

  Kissing her again, he suddenly pushed his face away from her, hoping his tears would not fall against her bare skin. Hiding in the darkness, he bit back his pain, although it was hard to do. But Arie had already smelled it in the air.

  Need.

  She cradled him in her small arms, holding him as best she could. His vulnerability made her fearful, an emotion she seldom experienced. She nuzzled her head into his neck to hide herself from view, knowing that he did not want to be looked at in such a foul state.

  Still, he slowly moved inside of her, creating a sensation different and more exhilarating that she had ever known. The thought made her body began to tingle all over and finally the muscles of her womb tightened around his sex and hummed.

  The warmth of being in his lap, the feel of being slowly rocked back and forth by his body, the sensation of his cold hands searching over her body and his long tongue slowly searching her mouth, the rock-hard shaft that nearly impaled her was enough to make her climax hard. However, trying to hold it at bay just to keep him going was even harder.

  It was then that she realized that in the bitter cold darkness of the forest Ivan Medlov was making love to her for the first time, and it was amazing.

  ***

  When the sun rose, while the rest of the world was waking up, Dmitry Medlov was moving to his second day with no sleep. Sitting at the dining room table of his suite still dressed in jeans and a dirty t-shirt, he ate a full breakfast and went over his strategy in his mind again for the fifth time.

  He was waiting on one thing.

  The word from the Smirnov camp.

  He knew that he had something that Evgeny wanted and was not at all worried about an ambush, but it was what was looming after that he had to prepare for.

  Davyd had been ordered to rest, albeit against his better judgment. He had tried to stay near his boss the remainder of the night, but Dmitry had told him to take a breather.

  “You’ll need your sleep, old man,” Dmitry had warned before he patted him on the back and sent him to the adjoining bedroom to finally get some much deserved rest.

  Davyd wasn’t happy about it, but his tired eyes and slumping body showed that pretty soon, he would be no use at all if he didn’t sleep.

  The bodyguards, however, had stayed on post all night. They were much younger and able to handle more brutality to their bodies.

  Scruffy, blonde stubble had formed on Dmitry’s face overnight and his curly hair no longer looked immaculately groomed. Instead, he was taking on the look of a gutter rat, like when he first had come out of prison only a few years prior. It felt fitting for the situation.

  Last night had changed Dmitry forever. All the suits and grooming in the world would not hide what he was until he changed who he was. And until that time came, he would no longer pretend. He would eat and sleep only to focus on his goal. Evgeny Smirnov.

  The large grandfather clock in the corner of the room finally chimed seven o’clock as Dmitry pushed away from his empty plate and stood up. Stretching, he walked slowly to the living room and sat waiting for the call on the phone or the knock on the door.

  He was not disappointed.

  At eight thirty, the door bell rang and Khalid walked in with a proposition, just as Dmitry had forecasted.

  Khalid took one look at Dmitry and knew that the boy had gone rabid. Taking a seat across from him, he dismissed his bodyguards and out of respect, Dmitry did the same.

  “You look…different,” Khalid said, turning up his lip.

  “I feel different,” Dmitry answered. He shrugged his large, square shoulders. “What of my family? Has he made a decision?” His voice was deep and ominous. His eyes were colder than the Siberian winter.

  “He has come to a decision. He will accept your proposition to take a seat on your board for ten percent ownership on the NightStar project with an investment of fifteen million dollars due today by three,” Khalid said in a soft tone.

  “Done,” Dmitry answered quickly. “Cash or check?”

  “Transfer the funds to this account,” Khalid answered, taking out a white card with numbers written in red ink.

  Dmitry reached over the coffee table and took the card without looking at it and slipped it into his jean pocket.

  The two men looked at each other for a moment without words, and then Dmitry sat back on the sofa and crossed his legs.

  “We will meet this evening no later than six o’clock but no earlier than five at the facility with the scientists. It’s about fifteen minutes northeast of the city in a vacant limestone plant owned by your company, ironically. Brenneman set it up prior to his little accident. One of our cars will drive you out there. None of your men will be allowed at the meeting for security purposes. We can’t allow for an ambush or for that matter for you to know where we’re going,” Khalid said, standing up. “You will have your chance to see your father again there if you can come up with the deposit. I do hope that you’ll be ready.”

  Dmitry stood up and offered his hand. “Spasiba, brat,” he said sincerely.

  Khalid shook his hand graciously and excused himself from the room.

  Before the door could close behind Dmitry’s guest, Davyd peaked out of the door. “Is he gone, boss?”

  “Da, da,” Dmitry said, standing up. “Get Elsa on the line, and get the car out front. We’re going to the bank.”

  “Like that?” Davyd asked, looking at Dmitry’s clothes.

  “Like this,” Dmitry answered. “Money speaks louder than clothes.”

  ***

  Every news outlet in England, all the major outlets in the U.S. and several other major countries were following the tragic yet suspicious deaths of the Hutton Industries board, and Elsa was the lead on all communication. Her face was plastered on every television station and her words printed in every magazine. Overnight, she had become a household name, just as Dmitry had promised.

  Swamped in her executive suite with two assistants, she sat on the phone giving yet another interview and awaiting a call from Dmitry, who had gone AWOL.

  The hard hitting questions, she could handle but the absence of Dmitry’s touch was nearly driving her mad. The night before he had left, he had made sweet, gentle love to her in his chambers, exhausting her body to the point where she could barely move. And in her ear, he had whispered promises of handing her the world, yet in the morning, when she had awakened, he was gone. No sign of him anywhere.

  Since that morning, when the sun gleamed through the windows and kissed her skin, she had been alone and unable to think about anything but him…and her father.

  As promised, she had made a call to the general of the MPLA and made him Dmitry’s offer. He liked what he heard and was offering a meeting in the next four days in Angola, on his turf with his men.

  However, she worried now. With no word on where Dmitry was or what he was doing, the meeting and her father’s trust could be ruined.

  The consequences could be great - at least for her. While the general was her father, he put nothing and no one in front of his precious resistance. It was a fact that had made her grow bitter over the years along with being well aware of her position in his life.

  As Elsa’s fingers trailed over her keyboard, the phone rang for the hundredth time that morning. She ignored it as she prepared to write her thoughts down for a much-needed inter-office memo that needed to go out regarding the death of the board. Her assistant quickly picked it up and answered. After a few short words, she picked up the phone and walked it over to Elsa.

  “It’s Mr. Medlov, ma’am,” her assistant said, passing her the phone.

  Elsa took it quickly and pointed towards the door. “Ladies, give me a moment, please.” Her heart skipped a beat as she held it tightly in her hands.

  “Elsa,” Dmitry said into the phone.

  “Hello,” Elsa said coolly. She exhaled a deep breath at just
the thought that he was okay.

  “Privet,” Dmitry answered hello in Russian. He could hear her voice restrict at the sound of his. Suddenly, he could smell her perfume on his tongue. He swallowed hard and continued, fighting the thought of her lying in his bed naked. “How are things there?”

  “Insane,” she answered, getting up from her desk. She walked over to her door and locked it.

  “Has Scotland Yard come calling yet?” he asked.

  “Every day they have questions. I told them that once they cleared you as a suspect in the Brenneman case and you were free to leave the country that you had a hundred meetings to attend.”

  “And you weren’t lying.” He looked at his watch and realized that he had to hurry the conversation along, even though he didn’t want to. “I need you to transfer $15 million to my account in Prague for an upcoming business transaction.”

  “When would you like me to do it?”

  “Now.” He slipped on his coat and nodded at Davyd. “Can you do that?”

  Elsa was already at her computer typing away. “It will be done in the next five minutes. Is there anything else that I can do for you?”

  “Not at the moment. Stay by the phone though, da.”

  “I have my mobile.” Elsa knew now might be the only opportunity that she would get to share the news of her father. “One other thing before you go…I have successfully coordinated a meeting with my father regarding your proposal.”

  “Good. When?”

  “Four days from today.”

  Dmitry was proud that she was able to come through for him yet again. He realized also that he would need to be very specific about what he could offer and when he could meet. Men like her father were always being presented with business opportunities. But Dmitry needed him to take his seriously.

  “He wants us to come to Angola, Africa. Will that be a problem?” she asked.

  “No. Charter a jet and get to Prague in the next day. You can brief me when you get here, and we can fly out together.”

  “Why don’t I just fly in on one of yours?” she asked confused.

  “After the board went down in a plume of smoke, do you really want to chance it?”

  Elsa hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Speaking of which, sell all of my planes and get new ones…just in case.” Dmitry didn’t trust anyone anymore…even the men he had hired to work for him.

  “I’ll work on both things today.” She paused, heart racing in her ears. “I’ve missed you.” Nervousness crept in.

  Dmitry hadn’t exactly been a romantic over the last few weeks, yet she found herself drawing nearer to him. The only problem was that she still recalled his wishes…to keep things simple. Only, everything was becoming very complicated for her.

  He heard the quiver in her soft voice, but he was unable to reciprocate. There were too many variables right now…even the notion in the back of his mind that she too was untrustworthy. Still, he did miss her or the idea of her.

  The pause had been too long. He cleared his throat.

  “When you get here, we can spend some time together,” he said, avoiding telling her that he missed her as well.

  Elsa sighed quietly away from the mouth of the phone. Still, no sign of true emotion from him. “That would be nice,” she conceded.

  “Tomorrow it is then,” he said, biting his lip. He could tell that she wanted more. But he could not give it. Catherine was barely cold in the grave and he was planning a full-on war. Love was not an option.

  Elsa wrapped the chord around her long fingers and curled her face into the phone. “At what hotel should I make arrangements in Prague once I arrive tomorrow?”

  She was certain based upon his response that he wouldn’t want her curled under him in his hotel room. Plus, the space might make things easier on her. Just being around him drove her mad. His look. His cologne. His deep voice. Even over the phone, he stirred some twisted lust inside of her that was barely controllable.

  Dmitry looked at his watch as he held the phone. He had been on the call longer than expected. He had to cut things short. “Come to the Red Square. Tell the front desk you’re my guest, and they’ll bring you up to my room,” Dmitry said, standing up from the chair. “Look, I had better go.” He scratched his stubby, blonde beard.

  “Take care of yourself, Dmitry,” she said quickly. Sitting up in her chair, she held her breath.

  “Da, da. You too,” Dmitry said, hanging up.

  He hung the phone up carefully, knowing that she had not yet hung up herself. She was waiting on him. And the thought bothered him. While he genuinely liked Elsa, he knew that there was no place in his life for love, and she was falling head over heels for him. It was a doubled-edged sword for Dmitry.

  Having her eating out of his hand would prevent her from being a complete threat, but it also put her in danger. He couldn’t decide which was worse.

  There was no doubt that he was attracted to her. There was no doubt that she was educated, sensible and probably the perfect person for him. If he did make it out of this current ordeal, they would be a serious power couple, able to conquer the world together.

  But long term, Dmitry knew that he was not interested in a serious relationship. He never wanted a wife or children. He was too fucked up inside for that. He would just end up ruining them, the way that his mother had ruined him and his brother. And if he knew that he had nothing more to offer than money, then why would he ever get into a situation like that?

  “I don’t have time for this,” he said aloud, admonishing himself for thinking of marriage and children when he needed to be worried about if he would even be alive by the end of the night.

  Right now, he had a family member to kill.

  Chapter Seven

  As a light snow began to fall, less than 300 meters from the limestone plant and hidden under the dark of night, Ivan and his team sat anxiously awaiting a signal from Dmitry. Ivan had never gone completely blind into a situation before tonight. Dmitry always gave some kind of direction, but at the present, they were without any real etched-in-stone attack plans, even though they were in definite need of one.

  The word from Dmitry before Ivan left the hotel the night before was simply to come with the full team, guns blazing and a few dirty bombs ready. “Make them prove to me why I pay them at all,” Dmitry told Ivan in his ear. “Bring your worst, brat.”

  Ivan felt as though he had been given a carte blanche – for once in his life with his brother – and he was prepared to destroy everything in his path. However, for extra measure he had brought along Arie for wet work, Dorian for a few more explosive fireworks and a BS-1 30 mm grenade launcher, and two Siberian twins who were surgical with their Russian-made automatic weapons.

  Ivan’s specialty was of course his trusty knives, his Glock, Desert Eagle and his bare hands. He had found over time that those whom he could not shoot, he could always catch and choke out, crack their necks, cave-in their chests with his boots or simply break their spines. It didn’t matter to him how he killed them tonight. The point was that he was going to kill them…each of them, saving his long, lost papa for last.

  Ivan stood like a statue, almost disappearing into the night. As tall as the oak he leaned against with his eyes focused on the building in the distance. The only thing that could have possibly given him away was the cigarette that he slowly inhaled. He tasted blood in his mouth as he bit down on his lip. Sucking the hot fluid from his bleeding mouth, he controlled his breathing and waited.

  The wind ripped through the small group, occasionally causing them to grunt in discomfort at the feel of the bone-cutting chill that accompanied their deadly field trip.

  The wintry air had Arie huddling her in coat by the tree with her eyes covered by snow goggles and looking through the scope of her Draganov sniper rifle. She had been the only person that Ivan had divulged the truth to. Everyone else simply knew that they were attacking an enemy…auditioning for the “big show.
” But she knew that this was as personal as it could get. Tonight was about Ivan’s dead mother. And to her that was far more respectable than killing for money. Hell, she would have done this one for free, if it were not for her money-hungry brother.

  Looking over at Ivan, she felt her thighs steam even in the cold. He looked unbeatable and undeniable in his black steel-toe boots, black cargo pants, black turtleneck and overcoat, guns holstered, eyes gleaming. He was definitely her type of monster. Devilish in the bed and with a weapon, Ivan Medlov was the ultimate alpha male.