Anatoly Medlov
Complete Reign
Latrivia S. Nelson
Prologue
Last chapter of Dmitry’s Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen
Prague, Czech Republic
A beautiful sunset cast a tranquil glow over the Medlov chateau as the family prepared for a huge dinner. 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 a shock only weeks after the two arrived back from Sochi in the form of brutal 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. 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 mirored his father’s. 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 father’s 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 is it called? I’m sure that ere 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 searched it. 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 from 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 long 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 Yala.” 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 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, a
nd 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 could have done for me. 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 her to him. “Missed you.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Want to get out of here? Maybe go to the condo?” she asked. “It has been a month.”
Anatoly patted his pockets. “I’ve got my keys right here. Let’s go.”
“What about saying goodbye to your folks?”
“My father said goodbye when he sent me in here,” he smiled. “I’ll catch him in the morning.”
The two left quickly towards the garage while the rest of the family ate dinner together and laughed and sang as the band played an upbeat Russian tune.
Snacking on a pickle, Royal looked towards the door to see if anyone was coming. “I guess he found the wine,” she laughed.
“I guess so.” Dmitry shook his head. He pulled her to him and kissed her lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said, touching his face.
“What about me?” Anya asked.
“We love you, too,” they both said, pulling her over to them.
Chapter One
Next Day
Prague, Czech Republic
The late morning sun’s fiery blaze awoke Anatoly from his peaceful sleep. His blue prisms slowly opened to the clear skies shining brightly across the room. He squinted a bit, wiped his tired eyes and yawned. Why didn’t his folks have real curtains in their bedroom? How did they wake up to this every single day?
Sitting up in the bed, he looked over at the black woman lying in bed beside him. Her dark skin gave dramatic contrast to the silver sheets that barely covered her long, slender body. A small grin colored her full lips. Long, dark, thick hair spilled over onto her pillow. She slept as if she did not have a care in the world.
Bending toward her, he looked at her chest slowly rise and fall. Peaceful bliss for her but not for him. Resting his head back on the headboard, he ran his hand through his blonde tendrils and gripped the back of his neck, massaging his aching bones.
Unfortunate for her, he had that familiar feeling again now that he had her – the urge to flee. At the very moment that she committed, he disassociated. It was cause and effect for him. He knew it as soon as he finished making love to her.
Sweaty and exhausted, he had collapsed beside her, feeling a million miles away from her body even though it was so close to his own. She had looked into his eyes and confessed her love for the first time in their pseudo-relationship. And he had whispered in Russian, “Ya ne lyublyu tebya,” (I don’t love you), in response.
She had gone to sleep smiling and oblivious. He had gone to sleep thinking about his dilemma – how to undo what he had done far too spontaneously. The tightness in his chest had started immediately, as soon as she spooned against him and closed her big, brown eyes. His father was right. It simply would not work.
Now, curled up beside him, wrapped in the sheets, she never felt him when he stirred, when he pulled his body from the bed and quickly slipped on his jeans.
Once fully dressed, he stood by the bed for a while, staring at her and thinking of all that he had put her through and vice versa.
Finally when he had reasoned enough, he grabbed his wallet and keys and slipped out of the bedroom.
The family could take care of her arrangements to get back to Italy to the winery. He knew that his father would at least – Royal may not.
All he did know was that he couldn’t stayn the condo with her a moment longer. Now that he knew that she was okay, that she had not been harmed because of him, he could release her.
In fact, he had already released her, whether he liked it or not. She wasn’t the one. It was sort of refreshing when he thought of it. To fall in love with Victoria would be too easy and far too dangerous. She was like him. Cunning. Forward. Greedy. His decision would be best for the both of them or at least for him. And that was all that mattered at the end of the day.
It would have been cruel to leave her stranded at his parent’s condo alone, so he left the keys on the kitchen counter for the Bentley. But he didn’t leave a note. That would be too much.
Words couldn’t express what he was feeling right at the moment anyway. What was the use of trying? He’d walk for a while and clear his head. He just had to get out of the condo and way from her, had to get away from the commitment that was coming. The looming inevitability of a bad relationship choked him out of the space – drove him to flee.
Opening the front door to the house, he looked back one last time up the stairs and then left.
The sun was just as bright outside as it was in his father’s bedroom. It shone down on him and fed him the energy he needed to get on with things. He took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air, slipped on his Aviator shades and headed down the steps towards the walkway.
Looking around at all the well-manicured lawns, the expensive cars and the people walking up and down the sidewalk, he felt a calm that was not possible a minute ago.
This place was such a far cry from the life he had known when he was a boy. Everyone here was privileged. They had no clue what it was like to struggle, to fight for every crumb. But then again, neither did he anymore.
Life was good, but his was pushing him to get back to Memphis. His business could not run itself. There were things to do, people to see, money to make, guns to sell.
Catching a taxi a few miles outside of the upscale, gated community, he ordered the small Indian man to take him straight to the airport. He would bypass heading back to the countryside to his father’s chateau. Dmitry would understand. His father was like that. He was wise in his years because of the women that he had gone through before meeting his wife, Royal. Only Victoria was not his Royal. There was nothing anyone could do about that.
Within the hour, he was on the tarmac of a private airstrip with a cup of tea and a cigarette, preparing to board his private jet and head back to the states from Prague.
Still smelling like sex from the night before, he threw his cigarette down and headed up the stairs to his plane. The metal clanged under the weight of his heavy boots as he quickly made his way up. When he got to the top, he turned around and looked over the airstrip.
Finally, so far away from the condo, he could breathe again. The tightness in his chest had subsideut he did wonder if she was awake yet, if she had found the keys, put the pieces together and figured out what he didn’t have the nerve to tell her. Goodbye. Take care. Don’t call.
“Welcome back, Mr. Medlov,” the flight attendant said, offering to take his nearly empty cup.
Turning away from Prague, he passed his Styrofoam container to her and took off his shades.
“Thanks, Karen,” he said, feeling a sense of relief.
“Let’s get out of here, da.”
Chapter Two
Memphis, TN
Anatoly raced through the city on his motorcycle from his father’s old mansion to Mother Russia restaurant with his mind on the meeting that would take place in less than an hour. He gripped the handlebars and jolted down Walnut Grove past the people in their family cars obeying the speed limit. Their slowness annoyed him. Or maybe it wasn’t them at all. Maybe it was his need for the fast life. Fast all the time. Fast until death. His new mantra was completely against his father’s old school teachings, but he embraced it happily.
Reluctantly, his men followed as best they could a few cars back. He didn’t really like bodyguards very much, even though according to the council they were a necessity. However, they made him feel more vulnerable than when he was alone.
Alone, he could
take care of himself. He felt like the true recluse that he was. Plus, there wasn’t much he couldn’t handle with the heat he was packing under this coat. Cop or Thug. He could take anyone out, if needed.
Most days, he felt utterly invincible. Like today. He was roaring inside, but he didn’t know why. There was just something in the air. Something urgent was on the horizon.
He accelerated as soon as the stop light turned green. Digging in and pulling off hard, he was just about to switch gears when he felt a jolt from behind. A sudden jerk took his bike off the ground. He propelled forward in the air helpless to the power of the strike. Then his body hit the hard pavement with an earthquake-like thud. He rolled twice feeling chunks of flesh tear apart as he clumsily bounced.
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