Vasily smirked. “You are one morbid son of a bitch.”
Gabriel laughed, glad for a little levity. “He really is. Always with the conspiracy theories.” Rubbing a hand over his forehead, he glanced over at Anatoly, secretly concerned for his cousin. “Are you going to be alright?”
Anatoly could instantly feel his cousin trying to mother him. He bristled to the attempt and changed the conversation. “Where is Anil now? I should probably go and talk to him.”
Vasily yawned. Placing a hand over his clean-shaven face, his large body trembled. It had officially been 24 hours since he felt the comfort of his bed or his wife. He was ready to break his fast on both. “Anil went back to spend a little more time with his mom. He said to text him when dinner was about to be ready.”
“Dinner?” Anatoly frowned. “Who is having dinner this late?” He glanced at his watch.
“The old man is preparing a feast,” Gabriel said, slapping his arm as a mosquito snacked on his forearm. Turning his elbow to look at the reddened spot on his skin, he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. “And he wants everyone there. No exceptions.” Standing up, he put his phone to his ear and walked down the steps, leaving Anatoly and Vasily alone.
“So, Papa’s here?” Anatoly asked Vasily.
“Da da, downstairs hitting the iron in the gym.” Vasily knew that when Dmitry was in the family gym in the basement, the best thing to do was to leave him alone.
“How long has he been down there?” Anatoly asked. A gentle breeze blew past them and rustled the oak trees above.
“For a while, he was there when we got here. Marat said he was in one of his moods.” Vasily stood up, ready to go and see his wife and son. “What’s your plan? You want to go and see him.”
Anatoly stood and rolled his neck. Even he knew that when Dmitry was hitting the iron, he didn’t like to ever be disturbed. “I know my father. Anil’s mother dying is a family issue. He would never pull us off three different deals just because she was on the way out, eh.” He looked over his shoulder at the porch to make sure only the guards were standing over them listening. “What could we do to make her better? What the fuck could we do period?”
Vasily raised a brow. “I thought the same thing.”
“Yeah, well. We’re all thinking the same thing. Something else is going on. We need to find out what.”
An hour later, the entire Medlov family gathered in the formal dining room in front of a late-night feast fit for kings. Royal had ordered the staff to mix a combination of southern fare with Russian cuisine and to load up heavily on appetizers and alcohol.
The older kids were assigned to the children’s table in the corner, left alone to their own devices, and the adults convened their impromptu gathering at the large table in the center of the room.
Royal and Dmitry sat at the head of either side of the table. Gabriel sat beside Valeriya, Anatoly beside Renee, Vasily beside Lilly. Marat, Boris and Peaches always sat at the end of the table towards the door, and Anil sat quietly on the left side of his father.
A new development that had sprung up since the debacle in Miami eight months ago was that Nadei always sat beside Anastaysia, but Anatoly never acknowledged that something could possibly be going on between his sister and his guard. Instead, he chose to act like it was common place that they never left each other’s side. He rationalized it as loyalty, but everyone quietly saw it as a possible love connection.
Even though dinner was much later than normal, the general feeling was that of good cheer or at least grateful to be with each other.
The large party ate and talked among themselves while Dmitry surveyed the room in approval. There was a small table full of beautiful children. The adult table was filled with his closest confidants. And his home was happy, despite the pain he was sure Anil was feeling now. But given time, the boy would heal, just as they all had.
He remembered a time when he used to sit in this drafty room alone, eating his expensive meals and fine vodka under candlelight, imagining what it would be like to have a real family. Those days were lonely – not for a woman in his bed, but a woman who shared his soul, not for the people around him – but sons and blood who understood what it was like to be a Medlov – not for those depending on him, but for children who deserved to bask under the shade only he could provide them.
Now, he didn’t have to imagine, because he had an extensive family. And he would do anything to keep them safe, happy and fulfilled. It was the least he could do after all they had provided him.
Glancing down the table, he caught Royal’s covert glance. She was a lioness stalking her prey. Her brown eyes were affixed to his, as though she was attempting to read his dark mind word for word.
The abrupt departure from the kitchen flashed through his mind, and he wondered what he had done to trouble her.
Trailing his eyes over to the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, he noted the time and resigned himself to the fact that he would have to probe her later tonight when they were finally alone for answers about today among other things. Royal always needed a good probing. It helped keep her in line.
Watching her glossy lips as she slipped them down the gold-plated knife, he felt his manhood stir awake under the table. An exhilarated grin crossed his regal features. If she only knew what he was thinking right now, she might have very well choked on her dinner.
“If you don’t mind father, I’d like to make a toast,” Anatoly said standing.
Everyone looked over at him, surprised by his sudden gesture. Anatoly was never the formal type and never sentimental in plain view. So, to see him try to be such right now was quite curious.
Anatoly turned toward his brother, Anil, and raised his glass. “This isn’t something to celebrate, the loss of your mother. Trust me. I know. I lost my mother to cancer and so did Gabriel. And I think Vasily was born from a pack of wolves, so there is no way to know.”
Everyone laughed, including Vasily.
“What I want to express to you is that I’m not celebrating her pain or her impending passing, I’m celebrating the fact that she held on to this life, regardless of how painful to make sure that you had someone here for you after she was gone. I’m celebrating her victory, her strength and her courage in her absence…if you don’t mind.”
Anil nodded at Anatoly’s brotherly affability and smiled. While he had not known his big brother long, he understood this to be a very genuine gesture. Clearing his throat, he pushed back salty tears. “Thank you, brother. I’m sure she would appreciate you. I know that I do.”
“To family,” Anatoly said, raising his glass and Renee grabbed his free hand from where she sat. She looked up at him, glowing already from their pregnancy, due to end next week and felt herself tear up.
“To family!” everyone said in unison while they toasted.
“To my family,” Dmitry emphasized just a few seconds later as he toasted again before drinking his champagne.
There was no doubt. He was proud of his boys. They had become everything that he had wanted between he and his own brother, Ivan. But that had not been their path. In the end, one of them had to live and one of them had to die. And be that as it may, he prayed daily that the same tragedy never be revisited on his own children – those he had borne and those he had simply taken in.
Being a billionaire meant that he could buy nearly anything he wanted, but there were still some things that were not for sale. Family was one of them.
When the children had been put to sleep in their bedrooms and the adults retreated to their suites to lick each other’s wounds or rest, Royal found herself face-to-face with Dmitry in the darkness of their master bedroom.
Standing over her with his lording presence, he was more like a benevolent despot than a doting husband. Still, the way he looked at her, like he wanted to lick her skin off with his tongue sent chills up her spine and wetness down between her legs.
Dmitry lifted his thumb to her chin and brought it up where
he could see her eyes. “Earlier today in the kitchen, what was wrong?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
God, don’t ask me that right now, Royal said to herself quietly. She swallowed hard and tried to keep a straight face. “Nothing. I just…”
Dmitry exhaled a breath out of his nostrils in protest of her lie. He was not a stupid man and hated to be treated as one. “What was wrong with you?” he asked again, this time more forcefully. His blue eyes, sparkling like prisms, glared at her, demanding a real answer.
Royal rolled her eyes and dropped her shoulders. “It’s ridiculous.” Now that she had been allowed the opportunity to get her feelings out with Valeriya, she truly didn’t want to revisit them with her husband. He had enough on his plate. There was no room for squabbles.
But Dmitry wouldn’t leave the issue alone. Royal was far too important to him to be ignored in any way. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of what is ridiculous,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “Go on…”
Royal had learned over the years to be a pretty good negotiator herself, especially when it came to her husband who lived his daily life in a state of quid pro quo. If he wanted something from her, then she wanted something from him as well, but as she glared into his hypnotizing eyes, she realized something else, something far more sinister. “Are you really trying to handle me right now?”
“No,” he denied vehemently. Refusing to blink for fear of giving himself away, he furrowed his brows. “I’m trying to find out what is going on with my wife.” Of course, he was trying to handle her. Happy wife. Happy life. If she went on for days with an attitude from hell, he’d never be able to focus, but he couldn’t tell her that. She’d just find a way to blame him for being selfish. Yet one more thing that money did little to fix in his life.
She ignored his faux outrage, keeping her face tight with contempt as she raised a pointed finger toward him. “You know I don’t like to be handled, Dmitry.”
Did he ever. Dmitry softened his face, refusing to lose this small battle. “Baby, this is me,” he crooned. “I just want to know if I did anything wrong, or I said something wrong. Just like you don’t like to be handled, I don’t like to be in the dark.”
Royal put her hand on her hip. He was convincing, even when he was full of shit, but she also knew that she had nothing to gain by trying to prove he was lying. So she tried something else. “Okay, I’ll tell you what was wrong with me only if you tell me what’s got you locked in your office playing the violin in the middle of the evening.”
Dmitry cracked a grin. Stealthy little thing, she was just waiting for an opportunity to pounce on him. This was why one should never underestimate the cunning of a smart woman. “Fine. You tell me first, and then I’ll tell you.”
“FINE.” Stepping back, she cocked a finely arched brow. It was very possible that after she told him the truth, he would just make up something to keep from telling her what was wrong with him, but she had given it a try. “I was jealous that you promised Anya the meeting with Meghan Markle. That was something I wanted to try to do. When you offered to take her to the chateau that you and your late wife lived in to set up some meeting with our baby’s new icon, I was upset. I felt like you were usurping me.”
Dmitry had never even considered how that might have made Royal feel. He blinked fast, accidentally showing his surprise. Shoulder’s relaxed, he walked over to the bed and sat down. “Well, I could see how that might…upset you now that I think about it.” Slowly, he pulled at the top button of his shirt.
Royal shook her head. Like she said, it was stupid. And now, seeing how regretful he appeared, she hated that she’d made a big deal of it, especially in front of Anya. But what was done, was done. “Let’s just forget about it.”
“No, no, you’re right. That was thoughtless of me. I should have never suggested it.” He kicked off his dress shoes. “I’m sorry.”
Royal’s head snapped in his direction. “You’re forgiven,” she said suspiciously. Closing the distance between them, she stepped between his long legs. “Now, your turn.”
Dmitry’s fingers lingered at the buttons just above his belt. Should I really tell you? he asked of her in his mind. Raising his head slowly, he met her eyes. A humorless grin crossed his lips. “It’s a funny story, really.”
“Well, tell me so that I can laugh too.” She was not convinced that what she was about to hear was going to be comical in the least.
Dmitry placed his hands on her hips and slid them down her sides. Releasing a sigh, he decided the best decision was to be completely honest. “I’ve got that feeling again, like something bad is going to happen. It’s been bothering me for a few weeks now, making me paranoid.” He pulled her to him and made her sit on his lap. “Do you remember the man who I told you was like a mentor to me while I was in prison, the man responsible for getting me out.”
“Yeah, Popov.” Royal had heard the story several times over the years and committed it to memory. After all, this mysterious man had been the only reason she had met her husband. If she ever met Alexander, though she doubted she would because of his age, she would make sure to thank him for all he had indirectly done for her. A thought crossed her mind and she put a hand on her chest. “Oh, no. Did he die? Did someone kill him?”
Dmitry was deflated before he could even explain, seeing the admiration in his wife’s eyes. There were no two ways about it. She was going to be disappointed in him, even though he was certain he had done the right thing. “Ryan Colt reported to Alexei Popov. He was one of his underlings.”
Ryan fucking Colt. She rolled her eyes in irritation. Why was she not surprised to hear it had something to do with that asshole? His name still made her nauseous. Ryan had single-handedly taken years off her stepson, Anatoly’s life when he abducted his sister and turned her into a prostitute down in Miami. Thank God he was finally dead.
Absently, she raked her nails through his blonde locks as she recalled. “I remember his name from Miami. When we were planning Anastaysia’s rescue, you told us that he was Ryan’s boss.” She frowned. “But I just assumed the two families were not connected, especially since you didn’t make any mention of it. Popov is as common in Russia as Smith here in the states.” She slowly started to put the pieces together. Suddenly, she stopped stroking her hair. “Who was he to Alexander?”
“His son,” Dmitry answered.
Royal’s eyes bucked. “His…” Her words drifted off. “No, Dmitry.” Her back went erect. While she wasn’t an official member of the Vory v Zakone in any way, she was familiar with the laws. Killing one of the five families of the international council was a form of high treason. Standing up, she paced the floor. “When did you have Alexei killed?”
Dmitry started to unbutton his shirt again. “Shortly after we got back. I knew it had to be done, Royal. It was either him or us. I chose him before he could choose my family.”
Her voice strained as she fought to keep her cool. How in the hell did they get back here! It hadn’t even been nine months since the last war. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not crying over spilled milk or questioning your decisions as the Czar. I know you have to do what is necessary to keep this family safe, but…”
“Why didn’t I tell you?” Dmitry finished her sentence as he pealed out of his shirt, revealing a wall of chiseled muscle and intricate tattoos on his meaty chest. He was about to explain but she cut him off with an impatient, dismissive wave of her hand.
“I know why you didn’t tell me. You didn’t want me on high alert for the rest of my natural life.” She stopped pacing and turned to face him again. “Why did you just kill him? If you were worried that they might retaliate, why didn’t you kill them all?”
The question shocked Dmitry. There was a time when Royal would have fought him tooth and nail to save a life, but now it seemed she was possibly deadlier than he was. God, I have created a monster, he thought to himself.
“That’s what you’re worried about, right? Retaliation?” She
urged an answer from him.
“I wasn’t concerned until a few weeks ago. None were the wiser about my actions. The body had been handled. The deed was done. I thought it would just be another skeleton in my closet. Then, one of the triads who had assisted me in getting rid of Alexei while he was in China came up dead. His body was discovered in a Russian container outside of Beijing. Evidently, he had been tortured, more than likely for information regarding Popov’s whereabouts.”
“It could be a coincidence,” Royal reasoned. “Just because your guy showed up dead doesn’t mean that it had anything to do with Popov. He could have pissed someone else off.”
Dmitry smirked. “There are no coincidences in this world, Royal. You know that. And you don’t just kill a triad, even a low-level one without having some real power behind you.”
“Have you heard anything?” Royal asked. “By now, someone would have talked if you were connected.” She walked back over to him and sat on the bed. “You are the Czar. This is the Medlov family. If one of the five families wanted to start a war with you, this wouldn’t be a quiet thing.”
Dmitry put his hand on his wife’s back. He appreciated her support and her desire to calm his paranoia, but there was little that anyone could do until he got some real answers. “I have people I trust making inquiries, but they cannot be formal ones. If I am found to be asking around and no one had already connected the pieces…”
Royal nodded. “They would after.” It made perfect sense.
“To answer your first question. I didn’t want to kill the entire family. Alexander Popov was like a father in some ways, when I was a boy. Having him murdered as he lays dying in prison is unimaginable. Peter Popov has always been dear to me. He’s old now too. He survived prison, the fall of our country and the reign of his idiot nephews. To strike them down would have been a stain on my reputation and my character.”
Dmitry's Redemption: Book One (The Medlov Men 7) Page 10
