Dmitry had ordered Anatoly to take Ivan and his men to the basement of the restaurant. They waited there now unarmed for the boss while more of Dmitry’s own men flooded into the basement with them.
Anatoly watched them carefully, never speaking a word, only occasionally looking at his Patek watch. He knew what was keeping his father. Royal. The question was had he managed in all of this to keep her. He would know as soon as he arrived, based upon the body count.
There had been many horrifying stories of the great Dmitry Medlov, as cruel as he was beautiful, as cold as he was cunning. The menhad whispered about him the entire trip down to Memphis. There were many stories about the infamous crime boss all over the states, the UK and Moscow. But one could easily mistake his kindness for weakness because of his charisma and his ever graceful demeanor.
Then there was his brother, Ivan Medlov. The story in New York and in Moscow was that Dmitry had raised Ivan, but since he was a boy, he had been a hot head. The brothers had fought back and forth over the years about many things.
One night, after a deal went bad because of Ivan’s antics, to make a point, Dmitry cut his brother’s throat just enough to leave him in the hospital, but promised to finish the job if he ever crossed him again.
Dmitry left New York while Ivan was yet in the hospital and moved to Memphis in search of another new start. The only way that Ivan gained control over the Bronx was because Dmitryleft it for him. However, since Dmitry had been away from New York, Ivan had gained the favoritism of the decision makers there and had proven himself to be nearly as formidable.
The door finally opened,and Dmitry stormed in and slammed it behind him. His men looked over at their general, watched the perspiration on his forehead, heard his hurried breath, and watchedhis twitching eye. He had walked from the boutique. A sure sign of danger. It was subtle anger that they knew to worry about, subtle anger like this. A man like Dmitry never was irate. His coldness was only reflected in the manner in which he destroyed.
Dmitry instantly made eye contact with Ivan, who was even quiet now. He walked over to Anatoly and said something under his breath, then walked over to the head of the table where he sat down. He leaned his long body forward under the large light and grinded his teeth together.
“Before I even get to how badly you have already fucked up Ivan, I want to skip to finding out who the hell these men are,” he said,placing his elbows on the table and crossing his fingers.
“These are my men,” Ivan said, still somewhat smug. He turned around and gave the men a big smile, then turned to his brother again. “Consider them value added.”
“As in extra value to me, brother?” Dmitry smiled.
“Dah.” Ivan smiled.
Dmitry smirked. “Many of you in this room don’t know but my brother is psychopath.” He over enunciated the words as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “When he was young man, I had him evaluated by woman I was seeing who was doctor. She told me that men like him have no feelings orremorse. They are very callous creatures.”
“That bitch was just upset because I did not find her attractive,” Ivan said conversely.
Dmitry sighed. “However, one thing that he does un-derstand is loss of assets. He learned value of dollar much earlier in life than he learned appreciation for human life. So, he would covet an object so much until, he would start to love it, but he could never love person. This was true even in grade school for him.”
“Ah…there was one I loved, brother,” Ivan corrected softly.
“Dah, another psychopath.” Their eyes locked. Dmitry smiled and then continued as the men listened on carefully unsure of why the boss was revealing such deep intimate secrets about his only next of kin to them – peons.
“Anyway, I said all that to say that you follow him blindly, and all the way to Memphis not knowing that he does not give damn about you. He never will. He only covets something that it will require you to take from someone else. He will not pay you what you are worth to keep you.
“He does not care if one or all of you are injured just so long as someone can replace you. You are not Vor, so he has no oath to you. Thisis why he calls you value added. You all have come as a bonus, nearly free of charge to him. And none of you, regardless of whose womb you slid out of, matter here.”
Ivan’s men looked at Ivan and each other curiously, but did not change their protective stance behind him. Dmitry shook his head and Ivan smirked, not denying any part of what his brother had just divulged.
“Plus, he put you in a very precarious situation. Be-cause you are not Vor, I don’t know you. You could be spies, cops…Brighton Beach.” Dmitry shrugged his shoulders. “And you come down here and create problem for me with someone that can’t be fixed very easily.” Deviously, he looked at Anatolyand hunched his large shoulders. “It is unnerving. My anger is nearly beyond control and someone has to pay.” His voice was calm.
“One thing I forgot to tell the men was how you love to give long lectures,” Ivan said sarcastically. “Next time, I’ll tell them to bring notebooks.”
Dmitry stood back up with his hands behind his back and walked midway of the long table and leaned against it. He ignored Ivan’s smug comment, understanding that it was his way of dealing with discomfort.
“No smart men would come into their boss’ boss’place with guns and present a problem unless they were only loyal to the latter. And I can’t have that. Can I? My men are only loyal to me. And you have proven that you are only loyal to him. Andyou have proven that you can piss me off quicker than you can tell me your names, which by the way, I don’t even know. And don’t want to know.”
The men startedto fidget, realizing the grave error that Ivan had caused them to make. Dmitry’s men spread further across the room in attack position. Ivan’s men started to step back into the room, while he only rolled his eyes.
“I guess what I’m saying gentlemen,” Dmitry pulled his arm from around his back and pointed the gun with the silencer at Ivan, “…is that I don’t need value added.”
He pulled the trigger slightly away from his brother’s face and shot each of the three men in the head quicker than they could start to flee. Their bodies fell quietly as the blood splattered across the walls.
Ivan did not blink. He swallowed hard and a sighed and he looked behind him again. He shook his head in utter disgust. The smug smile was gone.
“I just paid them thousands of dollars. You could have at least given me until next month – until they worked it off,” Ivan said hastily. He turned around from the dead bodies pissed. “You have cost me large sum of money, brother.” His anger was sincere. His tone much different now. It seemed his loss pained him. “I don’t have their account numbers. It will take me weeks to track the money down, if it’s not already spent.”
Dmitry looked at the bodies and his little brother and sighed. He turned around and looked at his men all staring in bewilderment at the strange turn of events.
“Like I told you…a fucking psychopath,” Dmitry said,passing the gun to Anatoly. “You all get rid of the bodies,” he said to the men. “Anatoly…Ivan…you both come with me.”
Chapter 11
Renee and Cory decided to stay after the store was closed and retired upstairs to Royal’s apartment, a place that they had never been invited before, but desperately wanted to see. Royal was happy to have them; having been shaken up so badly, she didn’t want to be alone. They followed her upstairs, nudging each other as they got closer. When they reached the large, heavily decorated double doors, they knew that the inside had to be spectacular, because even the entrance was grand in scale.
Taking her shoes off at the front door, Royal invited the two in for a glass of wine.
“Wow, girl! This is so beautiful,” Renée said, looking around the elaborately decorated loft that had been recently filled with more gifts from Dmitry’s various business trips.
Renee marveled at the large crystal chandelier high above them in the vaulted ceiling
s reinforced by exposed, lacquered timber and brick in grid patterns. Below the hanging chandelier was a beautiful leather and chenille sectional with a matching oversized leather ottoman in front of a beautiful limestone fireplace. Exquisite bouquets of fresh flowers filled the room along with paintings of beautiful country sides. It looked like a scene from an upscale interior decorator magazine.
“This is so European villa,” Cory said, rubbing his hand over the marble-topped tables. “I’m talking really expensive.”
“Well, Dmitry has great taste,” Royal admitted, admiring the place herself. She was humbled every time that she entered into the apartment, bemused by the fact that it was her home.
“You can make yourself at home in here,” Royal said, escorting them.
After taking off their own shoes, they followed Royal to the dinning room hidden behind two stain-glassed doors. The room was painted in a warm khaki color, illuminated by an equally beautiful black tiered iron chandelier that hung from a lower ceiling covered in timber and highlighted with only dim receding lights. The room had no windows, which gave it a cozy intimacy,and it was sprinkled with color in the large area rug, accent chairs and large painting of St. Basil’s Cathedral in the Red Square.
Royal pulled out her finest crystal flutes and a bottle of Chateau Petrus that Dmitry had bought her last week when he had come home from a meeting in California. He actually had brought her a case, which is why she hadn’t minded sharing one bottle with her friends considering that had all been through a bonding experience downstairs.
She sat down at the round table and plopped comforta-bly in her plush chair. Pouring hefty glasses, she pushed the flutes around the table to Cory and Renee. This was the first time that anyone besides Dmitry had ever been in her apartment. The company was welcome by Royal, even it if was under the duress of such a hectic and unusual day.
Under the dimming lights of the dinner table and among the 60-rose bouquet in the center of the table that gave off a beautiful aroma, they toasted and drank merrily, recapping every minute of their first encounter with Ivan, the valiant efforts of Anatoly & Cory, and discussing the king of them all, Dmitry.
“Okay, so Cory and I have been talking, and we’ve come to the conclusion that Dmitry is mafia,” Renée said, looking for Cory to chime in. She sipped her wine and nodded her head.
Royal stopped smiling. Her face changed into a gri-mace.
“You watch too many movies.” Royal denied.
“And you are too naive. Did you see what happened downstairs? I nearly pissed my own pants,” Renée said, savoring the taste of the thousand dollar bottle of wine.
“I was scared too, but you don’t have to get so Holly-wood. This is Memphis, for God’s sake. Home of Elvis sightings and pig-eating contests. What would the mafia or anyone else for that matter want with Memphis?”
Renee raised her brow. “Well you do have a point…”
“Exactly.” Royal got up and went to the kitchen to re-trieve a platter of cheese and a handful of grapes. Leaning against the countertop, she held her stomach. She stood there quietly for a moment, praying softly, silently moving her lips with her eyes clothes. Then she took a deep breath, exhaled her troubles and grabbed the tray. She came back and set the food on the table and smiled. “Anybody want some caviar? I’ve got extra.”
“Okay. Well, who has extra caviar sitting around, and bottles of expensive wine in this economy. I don’t even have extra containers of milk at home, and that runs me about three dollars each not one thousand,” Cory argued.
Royal snapped quickly. “So every one who has any money is now suddenly a criminal, especially a Russian man, right?” she asked defensively. She took a deep breath. “Dmitry has worked hard his entire life. He’s made some very wise business decisions,and he’s paid his dues. That’s why he’s wealthy.” Her hands shook in frustration and pain.
Cory raised his brow. “Royal, I’ve never seen Dmitry actually work once since I’ve been here. He gives orders, but I don’t even think he drives his own car.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Royal snapped.
“Well, I’m sure he worked at some point,” Renee added.
“I mean, the abundance of caviar though, Royal?” Cory continued. “He seems to have an abundance of everything. Cars. Businesses. Money.”
She ran her fingers through her hair. “He owns a caviar company in Russia. It’s like owning a fishing business here in the states…nothing to get all hyped about. And he made his millions over a decade ago. We were all still teenagers then.” She looked around for understanding but there was no compassion around the table, at least not for Dmitry.
“Uh huh,” Cory said, pouring another glass of wine. “He also has a lot of bodyguards and guns for a restaura-teur. It’s kind of odd, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t,” Royal lied as she stood up, unaware of how upset she was becoming. “He’s Russian,” she ranted. “They protect their own.” She could hear his voice as she said it. She sounded like him. She was defending him, even though he had cut her down moments ago downstairs.
Realizing she had stood up, she sat down in her chair and looked down at her hands covered in expensive diamonds and pearls. Suddenly, she wanted to pull off the jewelry and hide it. She was ashamed of it, of him, only she didn’t know why. There was nothing left to say. She didn’t know anything else.
“The truth of the matter is that I love him. And I know that he would never lie to me. It’s not in him,” Royal’s voice was soft and timid.
“Maybe he’s not lying to you, he’s just avoiding telling you something that he knows you already know.” Cory reasoned with her.
Royal sighed. “You both are making my head hurt. He pays you above the normal pay grade. He gives you excellent benefits. All he wants is a little loyalty. You’re both ready to throw him to the dogs.”
Cory looked at Renée and set down his glass. They had obviously gone toofar and needed to fix things as best they could before she fired them both and kicked them out.
“Look, we are in no position to talk bad about our boss. He’s been great to us, but honey, you have to wonder,” he said, sighing. “Well….don’t you? You’re too smart not to wonder or maybe you’re just too scared. Believe me, no one would not understand that. We just love you. We’ve grown to see how beautiful you are, and we don’t want you to get hurt, is all.”
“I’m not afraid of Dmitry. I trust him,” Royal said, looking at Cory. “So, I don’t have to wonder.” But the statements that both Cory and Renée made weren’t new thoughts for Royal. She wondered about Dmitry and his businesses now more than ever. Only she was far too in love with him to stop now, to leave him or push him away.
∞♥∞
Back upstairs in the elegant ambience of Mother Russia, Ivan sat across from Dmitry in a closed private room in the back of therestaurant. Anatoly stood in the far corner, quietly watching and listening as his father and uncle sat at a large table under the light of a Tiffany glass hanging lamps talking quietly.
“Is he your pet?” Ivan asked, referring to Anatoly. He looked over at the young man and blew him a condescend-ing kiss.
“More like protégé,” Dmitry said, relaxed in the red leather booth. He looked over at Anatoly and nodded.
“Huh…well, he looks like fag.” Ivan turned around in his seat and popped his knuckles. “I don’t like to be stared at. It makes me conscience of my overbite,” he said, sarcastically. He took a shot of vodka and slammed the shot glass on the table.
“Don’t worry about him.” Dmitry waved at the wai-tress, who entered the room quickly and brought their lunch. “Tell me why New York sent you of all people? I thought you had good thing going in Bronx since I left a ton of shit for you. Now, you come here? What for? What are you up to?”
“Kirill was a friend,” Ivan said, tasting his brother’s legendary borscht. “This is excellent. You were always a great cook. You could do amazing things with the trash we had to
eat as kids.”
“It’s your mother’s recipe. Probably the only thing that she ever gave us worth anything.” Dmitry watched his young brother eat the food quickly and sloppily. With all the wealth that he and Ivan had acquired over the years, he still had never learned any manners. It was true what they said, all the money in the world couldn’t buy a lick of class.
After he had scoffed down the food, Ivan put down his fork, wiped his mouth with the napkin and used the knife to check his teeth. Lighting a cigarette, he waved his sulfuric match out and took a long, needed drag, slowly blowing smoke out of his mouth.
Dmitry watched irritated. Ivan had always been so theatric. Waiting for an answer to his question, he sat up and clasped his hands together. His nostrils flared.
“Dare I even ask about the beautiful black girl at the shop? Are they calling themselves black or African-American these days?” Ivan asked, cocking up one of his long dark eyebrows. A devilish grin crossed his lips.
Anatoly twitched a little in the corner wondering if his father would demand that he shoot Ivan right then. He would enjoy every second of it. Family or not, Anatoly’s only thought was to draw first blood.
Dmitry looked at Ivan with a stone stare. “My patience is starting to run very thin with you, brother.” He sighed but continued to control his tone.
“Well, we all know what happens when you become impatient,” Ivan taunted, tapping his knuckles on the wooden table. “Bodies hit the floor.” He sucked his teeth again and smiled.
“Do you think you are immune?” Dmitry asked. “An-swer my questions now, before I get…frustrated. Why did they send you?” His square jaw clinched.
“I requested to come here, and I gave up my territory in the Bronx. That rat race was getting old anyway. I wanted to start over herewith family,” he smirked. “Plus, Kirill was a friend.” He made sure to reiterate his point.
Dmitry shrugged his shoulders. “He was coward, and he deserved to die. I should have killed him myself to make point.”
“What is your point, brother?”
Dmitry's Closet Page 12