Fuck all of them. Let them warn him, she thought to herself. All the warning in the world won’t save him.
When she arrived half way across the vast mansion to the front door of Anatoly’s office, closed shut to anyone who had not been summoned, she was a little out of breath and starting to perspire. One of the two guards stepped out from his position at the door. With an earpiece in his right ear, the suited, heavily armed guard swallowed hard and stuck out his chest to make himself larger. He attempted to give her a look as if to insert himself between her and her husband, but when he stepped in front of the door, Renee glanced up at the wall of a man like she was going to kill him and feed him to the poor.
“Now is not the time to fuck with me,” she warned the guard.
His face tightened. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Medlov, but Mr. Medlov is in a meeting,” he said, trying to muster the strength to deal with the abstinent little woman.
Renee pursed her lips together and moved closer to the man, invading his personal space. “Do you really want to block my way?” she asked, eyes gleaming with malice.
If she were any other woman, he would have put her in her place. But she was not any other woman, she was the boss’s wife and one wrong word could cost him his life, even if he was just following orders. He stepped to the side. “No, of course not, ma’am. I meant no disrespect,” he said with a bow of his head.
“No disrespect taken.” Renee moved past him and opened the doors to find Anatoly at his desk working at his computer under the dim light of his lamp. She turned on the overhead lights, pulling his attention from the monitor. “Ana,” she said, softly. It was funny how her tone would betray her every time she tried to be cross with her husband. What started as a growl, always ended as a whimper when it came to him.
Anatoly looked across the room at his wife, all dressed up in her ball gown, and shook his head. “I can’t make it,” he said flatly, Russian accent thick because of his agitation. “I sent word already.” He knew that she knew that and he also knew that was why she was here.
“No, you won’t make it,” she clarified, closing the door behind her. “But you need to, Ana.” She walked over to his desk, wondering at that moment how long had he been in that exact position in this exact location. This room was becoming depressing. It was clear that he needed to get away, even if it was just for a moment. “I need you to make it tonight.”
Anatoly stopped typing and ran a glance over Renee. She was a beautiful petite woman with curves that rivaled any vixen he had ever laid eyes on. Full breasts popped out of her gown begging to be tasted. Smooth soft skin begged to be kissed. With a pie face, big brown eyes, thick lashes that flapped like wings, brown skin and natural black locks, he felt proud to call her his wife. Still, as gorgeous as she was, she was also pushy. “I can’t make it,” he said again, hiding his own desire for her. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it at the moment anyway. There was no time for sex. No time for dinner. No time for anything but work.
Renee wasn’t in the mood to take no for an answer. “Why not,” she asked, planting her little manicured hands on his desk. She looked over at him still working despite her protests and growled. “Stop looking at that damn computer and look at me!”
For such a small woman, she had a gigantic personality. It was part of why he loved her so. Still, he could not give in to her tonight. His blue eyes sent a zinger through her when he finally pulled his gaze from the monitor to her face, and gave her all of his attention. Licking his pink full lips, he rolled his eyes. His low baritone didn’t raise an octave. “Why are you being like this? I told you that I’d be busy?”
Her heart panged. “I know you’re busy,” she said, glaring at him, wanting him. Her voice trembled. “But I need you to make some time for me.”
Time. That was a funny thing for Anatoly. He was living on a clock right now, trying to bring his cousin home, and he didn’t have a moment to spare for petty little parties. But the look on his wife’s face said otherwise. Frustrated, he wiped a hand across his blonde beard. “Royal will throw another dinner,” he reasoned. “I’ll be at that one.”
Renee shook her head and exhaled a breath. “It’s bigger than that, Ana, and you know it.”
“How?” Anatoly snapped. “How is it different?” Pushing away from his desk, he stood up from his black leather chair, wearing the same dark jeans, black T-shirt and boots he had on the day before and walked over to her. Long blonde curly locks fell over his wide shoulders as he bent and put his tattooed hands on her exposed shoulders. “Look at me,” he ordered sternly. “This dinner is for you women. Not for me. It’s to keep you occupied, eh. Royal does this every time she’s…bothered.”
She looked up at Anatoly, standing stubborn and striking before her, and felt herself shaking at the touch of his warm fingers. “Everyone is invited,” Renee argued, blinking fast. “Everyone includes my husband.”
“Everyone won’t be there,” Anatoly assured. “My men have been given clear directions. If they stop what they are doing on this operation to come to that fucking dinner,” he paused and lowered his rising voice. “I’ll have their heads, Renee.” His face said that he wasn’t kidding.
“It’s the last dinner,” Renee said, voice cracking. “Before you all leave us alone, possibly never to come back, it’s the last time that we’ll all eat at the same table. She’s not just doing this for her. She’s doing it for all of us.” A tear fell down her cheek. “She’s doing it because we all want you to know that we care. And you won’t even take 10 minutes to appreciate that.”
Anatoly wiped her singular tear with his thumb. “You’re killing me right now.” The pressure of operation had occupied all of his time, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t love his wife. In fact, it was quite the opposite.
Renee wouldn’t let up. “How am I killing you, Ana? I’ve barely seen you.” I miss you, she thought to herself.
Anatoly didn’t want to argue right now, and whether she wanted to hear it or not, she was interrupting important work. “The answer is no. Send my regards,” he said, sitting back down in his chair. His final word had been spoken, and he expected her to adhere.
Renee folded her arms across her chest. “So, it’s going to be like that, huh?” Her arched brow rose in contempt.
Anatoly knew that tone without looking up. It was his wife’s angry Black woman tone reserved for when he had truly burned his drawers with her, but he would not get embattled in one of her long-winded arguments tonight. Plus, if she stood there in that dress any longer, he would snatch it off.
“Da,” he answered “just like that.” Keeping his eyes on the monitor, he excused her. “I have to work. Maybe next time. I’m sure under the circumstance, Royal will understand.” Without looking up to see her face, he knew that he had hurt her, and there was no satisfaction in it. But he had a job to do that couldn’t be put on hold for a dinner with his stepmother.
Frustrated, Renee decided against making any more of a scene. One thing that Royal had taught her over the years was to never question a Medlov in the presence of his men and despite her desire to at this moment, she wouldn’t disrespect him, especially with guards in the dark corners of the room watching them.
In the lowest voice possible, she nodded at her husband. “You truly disappoint me,” she said, grabbing the hem of her long gown and turning to leave. Her back to him was almost as painful as her words, but Anatoly didn’t let on.
The guards opened the door for her, and she exited obediently without another word or another look back. It was a sign of a truly loyal wife, and yet he had failed her.
Anatoly watched her as she disappeared beyond his sight, knowing that he had not handled things in the best possible way. He also knew that she had bit her tongue and not given him nearly the lashing he deserved. She was right. He hadn’t spent any time with her since he arrived, and he felt horrible about it. But the responsibility of getting his cousin back was his, even more so than his father’s, because he
had goaded his father into that stupid bet that landed Gabriel in this mess. But how could he explain that to his wife? How could she possibly understand?
When the doors closed shut to his office, he picked up the bottle of vodka on his desk and took it straight to the head, hoping to get drunk soon. This entire situation was fucking up his universe and more importantly, the center of it.
***
Valeriya Nenya…
In the wake of war, Valeriya was not expecting Royal to put on her version of the Last Supper. Still, when she received the invitation, she accepted and took the dress that Royal sent up for her to wear. Of course, Andriy found it all to be extremely exciting and couldn’t wait to shower and put on his tuxedo. But Valeriya found it to be ridiculous.
The wealthy handled everything differently.
Valeriya imagined that this was the way of the extremely rich – to enjoy their wealth until the eleventh hour. And because she did not understand their customs, she chose not to question them. Considering she was a guest in their home, she would show respect and attend, however, she wanted nothing more than to stay in her room and get her mind ready for what was coming.
She and her brother were escorted downstairs to the main hall by security. Beyond a set of large oak double doors, they entered the infamous Medlov dining hall – a place where many important people, both legal and illegal in status, from around the world had been entertained.
With large oak beams in the high vaulted ceilings, a magnificent crystal chandelier hanging from its center, standing candelabras boasting thick red candles in the corners, a dinner table that seemed to be the length of the Caspian Sea decorated with bright bouquets, candles and food, shiny hard wood floors, priceless art on the crimson red walls, beautiful curtains, fine dark wooden cabinets and antique busts, Valeriya suddenly realized why people whispered that these people were underworld Czars. No one less than royalty lived like this.
Sitting at the head of the table was the mistress of the house. She looked like a queen in her elegant gown, all that she was missing was a crown. Royal stood when Valeriya entered and gave a bright, warm smile as she received her guests.
“Please come, have a seat,” Royal said, pointing toward two-high backed upholstered chairs to the right of her.
Renee was at the table, not wearing much of a smile, along with a woman that she had not met and a long row of beautiful multiracial children.
“Thank you for having me,” Valeriya said, sitting down. “This is my brother Andriy Nenya.” With a motion of her hand, she pointed towards Andriy, who was too busy ogling the decadent room to respond.
One of the male servers pulled Andriy’s chair out for him. “Wow, thank you,” Andriy said, having a seat. With a bright smile, he looked around at the women. “How is everyone?” he asked, pulling at his suit.
Valeriya couldn’t help but snicker. Did her brother ever meet a stranger?
“We are fine,” Royal giggled, sitting back down. She proceeded to introduce everyone. Renee, Lilly, Anya, Dylan, the nannies and three very beautiful toddlers – two boys and a girl. When she was done, she looked over the table’s preparation in satisfaction then nodded at the maid who stood in wait behind her.
“Let the feast begin,” Royal said with a smile.
But it seemed that no one else was in an affable mood, despite all of Royal’s efforts. With painted faces, the women smiled and carried on with polite conversation in between eating various courses until Renee finally could no longer hold her peace. In one last attempt earlier, she had sent a maid with a plate for her husband, in the hopes that he might change his mind about joining them. After that, she had watched the open doors as maids and workers moved through the hallways, but Anatoly did not come for her. His actions had her at a loss.
“Ana doesn’t seem to have time for me,” she said, picking up her half-empty wine glass. She had easily had four glasses already. With a roll of her eyes, she clenched the glass tight enough to break it. “He’s leaving to go to war with an entire fucking country, and he won’t even have one last meal with me.”
Lilly, a woman new to the circle, looked down at her food in embarrassment. So it was going to be one of those evenings? Fortunately, she didn’t have much to add. All she had ever known of her husband, Vasily, had been for him to work and to do so without explanation. This was simply her life.
But Royal didn’t shy away from the conversation with Renee. In fact, she felt it needed to be had. Putting down her silverware beside her half-eaten food, she motioned toward the help. “Can you excuse the children to the entertainment room for their treats?” she said to the nannies. “We need some adult time.”
Dylan and Anya looked at each other curiously. They loved to eavesdrop on their parents’ conversations to commentate on them later. But it seemed the lady of the house had gotten privy to their misdeeds.
“We don’t mind staying, mother,” Anya insisted. Her blue eyes welded with intrigue.
Royal knew that look – it was the look of Dmitry Medlov. “I insist,” she said, raising a brow at her daughter. “You are excused.”
When they were alone, Royal relaxed her shoulders and put both elbows on the table. Lacing her fingers together, she looked over at Renee. “Let it out,” she said with understanding.
“I went to him, to tell him that he needed to spend time with me before he left, but he just blocked me out,” Renee said, taking another sip of her wine. “It’s not that I don’t think that he loves me. I know that he does. It’s just whenever something happens, he clams up.”
Royal sympathized. “I’m not trying to take up for him, but maybe he just needs to focus right now.” Royal had known Anatoly well before Renee, and he had always been a very quiet man.
“And what if he doesn’t come back?” Renee asked, putting down her glass. Her eyes watered at the thought of losing him. “The last memories of him will be empty ones.”
“You can’t think like that,” Royal argued. “He is doing all of this, because he loves his family. He loves you.”
Renee cringed. “I know. And I feel horrible for even saying this out loud. It makes me feel selfish, but I am still just a woman. And I can’t deny that I worry about him. He’s not God. Anything could happen to him.” Why did she feel like she was the only one who got that? These men were not bulletproof.
Valeriya kept quiet. Still toying with her food, she kept her head down. Sitting beside her, Andriy also chose to stay out of the conversation. He looked over to his sister and whispered. “May I be excused?” This conversation was getting too heavy for him, especially with finding out about Valeriya’s pregnancy earlier. Every time they spoke about death, all he could do was think about losing his sister.
Valeriya nodded toward his brother. “You may be excused.” She was only glad that in all of the emotion being shared around the table, he didn’t suddenly expose her for her own secret.
Royal looked over at the troubled boy. “I’m sorry, Andriy. It seems we aren’t much for entertainment right now.”
“It was nice of you to try,” Andriy said, standing up. “I know that you must be very upset right now. My brother Alexei used to get like your husband.” He looked over at Renee with sadness. “Whenever he had something to do, we felt the same way. He was always so busy and detached from us until when he died, we were left feeling absolutely alone and confused. But you just have to believe that he’s doing it for the right reasons – to protect you and keep you safe.”
Renee appreciated his honesty. It was sobering for her at the moment. “For such a young kid, you’ve obviously been through so much. I’m sorry that you know how I feel.”
Andriy didn’t want to be drawn into the conversation. Women and their emotions scared him. “It’s alright. It’s life,” he said, nodding toward the women. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Renee said, wiping a tear from her eye. She looked over at Valeriya. “You’re lucky to have him.”
“I am,” Valeriya said
quietly.
“How do you feel about all of this?” Royal asked Valeriya. She had been quiet all night. Surely, she had something to get off her chest.
“I want him back,” Valeriya said honestly. She sat up straighter in her chair. The dress was awkward for her after spending so much time in cargo pants, jeans and boots. Fumbling with the dress, she finally threw her hands up. “I’m sorry. I feel…right now I feel like a volcano about to erupt. Everything in me is angry.” Her eyes blazed. “Everything in me is confused, and it won’t be worked out until Gabriel is back here alive.” She pushed away from the table and stood up. “I can’t do this right now. You must forgive me, but I must retire for the evening. I need to get ready for tomorrow’s flight.”
Royal apologized. “I didn’t mean to make things worse for you, Valeriya. I only hoped that this dinner might be a way to get your mind off of things.”
“I don’t want my mind off of things. I want him back,” Valeriya said, holding her head. She rambled quickly, taking deep breaths. “It’s my fault that he’s in this situation and not here with his family. It’s my fault that everyone is fighting with each other and spending all of this money and using resources. If the Nazis had captured me instead of him, he’d be home right now.” She hated herself for her weakness, but she couldn’t deny how all of this made her feel inside – completely unworthy. All she wanted at that moment was to fight, to kill in truth.
“No, he wouldn’t,” Royal said, shrugging. Her brow furrowed understanding that Valeriya didn’t quite understand the men of the Medlov family yet. “He’d be right here planning to do exactly what we are doing for him. One way or another, this was going to happen.”
Valeriya smacked her lips and smirked. “I would have felt much better if it were the other way around.” Putting down her napkin on the table, she excused herself. “I appreciate dinner and everything that you have done for me. You are truly a kind woman, but I need to leave now.”
Walking to the door, she passed Anatoly as he waltzed in passed her and strode up to the dinner table.
Gabriel's Regret: Book Two (The Medlov Men 3) Page 17
