“And you did. Sometimes, what we do in this world is right but not legal and other times legal but not right. Plus, you will do anything for family, even when it makes no sense,” he reasoned, justifying her actions and secretely his.
“It doesn’t change that sometimes, I feel hollow inside. What I did won’t bring her back.”
“But your vengeance probably protected some other poor girl.”
“I miss her. My sister’s name was Chloe.” She said the name and for the first time felt the reminiscent feeling of family.
“I am truly sorry for you, Royal. If I could change it, I would. Unfortunately, death is sometimes a part of life – whether it comes fairly or unfairly is often not left for us to decide.”
“You sound like a fortune cookie,” she said wryly, trying to cut her emotions off. Royal didn’t want to talk anymore about her sister, not tonight during something so important in her life. She tried to move on. “What about you? What’s your secret?”
Dmitry smiled a mischievous smile, one of deceit and enjoyable trickery. “Anatoly is my biological son.”
There was a long silence before Royal replied. She continued rubbing through his hair and looking at the top of the canopy. “I get that. It’s his eyes, you know. They’re like ice, like yours.”
“You getthat, huh?” Dmitry expected her to be more shocked.
“Yep…sure do,” Royal said without looking at him.
“Well, besides the blonde hair, he looks just like his mother. So damned short,” he continued.
“He’s not short at all. You’re just tootall. How old is he, anyway. He looks thirty?”
“From hard life, I suppose. He’s only twenty. He’ll be twenty-one this year.”
“You had him early.”
“Yeah. I was on my way out of the country and stopped to see an old girl that I used to mess around with. He showed up in America three years ago. He was looking for work and new start. His mother had told him about me, and he used his last dime to get here.”
“No one knows?”
“Not a soul. And no one can ever know.”
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Everything that I tell you is secret, Royal. You can never repeat one word,” he said, closing his eyes again.
Royal bit her lip, thinking about what he was demanding of her. Who would she tell? She didn’t know anyone.
“Just promise to always be as honest with me. I can handle a lot of things, especially considering the things that I’ve done and where I come from, but I can’t stomach a liar,” she said sternly. “That’s my stipulation to you before I take you.”
They both smiled.
“Lying is for people with no authority. I don’t lie. I can’t say that I’ll ever tell you everything, but what I do tell you will be the truth,” Dmitry said.
“So, it doesn’t bother you that I killed a man?”
“No,” Dmitry yawned. “You were just protective of what little family that you had, I suppose. I can understand that. Look at where I came from. I’m a gutter rat in nice clothing.”
“No, you’re far from that,” she said conversely. “You’re the best man that I’ve ever known.”
He laughed. “You don’t get out much, my love.”
“One more question, and then I’m going to bed?” Royal continued.
“What?”
“What did you mean by making a covenant?”
“When I was boy, my mother was whore. The only good thing I had in my entire life was church down the street from our shitty little apartment. The priest was like my father. I learned to play violin there, and he taught me about sacred bonds between man and woman, a marriage of sorts through a woman’s virginity. It is covenant between her, the man and God. The hymen is sacred – only to be broken by husband. It’s ironclad. What we did is ironclad. No man or woman can take it away.”
“So, I have you forever then?” She asked smiling.
“Yes…forever.”
“Like we’re married without the papers.”
“For now, it is all that I can give you.”
“Wait. Are you saying that you can’t marry?” The thought disturbed her. “But I want to get married one day. I don’t want to stay single or shacked up my whole life. It’s so incomplete.”
Dmitry could hear the sudden worry in her voice. He didn’t want to ruin their night together by explaining all the complications in his life. It was clear that she would not understand.
“There is no other woman involved, if that’s what you mean. It’s just not as easy for me as it is for most. We’ll save that conversation for another time, when you’re sure that you want to marry me in the first place.”
Royal sat back in the bed quietly. She did know.
“But it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I do…love you.” Dmitry pulled her hair from her face and kissed her. “Let me show you how much I love you, now.”
∞♥∞
Nine o’clock had passed, and Royal lay in Dmitry’s dress shirt slumbering in the comfort of her bed. She had been permitted to rest only a few hours, because Dmitry, in his cunning manner, had smuggled one more love session out of her, before he rocked her to sleep. She had gone to bed a little frantic of the hour, scared that she would oversleep. But Dmitry had assured her that he would take care of everything.
The staff arrived just a few minutes before nine and was greeted by Dmitry. When they came in the back of the store, he was sitting behind the credenza reading The New York Times. While Royal suffered from wine and sex, he was a veteran of such affairs and had risen early in the morning to shower and have Anatoly run over to his home and bring back a fresh suit and his daily newspapers.
In the month that both had worked for Dmitry and Royal, neither Renée nor Cory had ever seen Dmitry at the office early in the morning. He sipped on coffee now and talked to Anatoly, who stood listening attentively across the room and sending text messages.
The two unsuspecting employees walked in chatting and laughing, but they stopped as soon as they saw Dmitry. He looked up from his coffee and set his newspaper down. A large smile came across his face, showing his pearly white teeth and long dimples. His cold, ice eyes were bright this morning.
“Hello,” he said, watching the two slip past him.
“Hi. Is Royal alright?” Renée asked, setting down her lunch bag in the adjoining kitchenette.
“She’s fine, just resting upstairs. She’ll be down soon enough,” he said, crossing his hands together. “She said that you two would be here at nine, and here you are. This is good. I’m sure that she’s given you a list of things to do.”
“Yeah, she gave us a few things,” Renee said, looking at Cory.
“Well, I’ll start to set up everything.” Cory excused himself from the small room.
“I’ll help.” Renée followed anxiously.
They both scurried up to the front of the shop and left Dmitry and Anatoly alone, where they resumed their conversation in Russian.
Renée ran her long nails across the remote and turned the television on, while snickering to Cory. “I told you that they were sleeping together,” she said in a half-whisper.
“We still don’t know for sure,” Cory said, giving Royal the benefit of the doubt. “She could be sick.”
“Whatever. You saw the same thing that I did last night. You and I both know that a man doesn’t look at a woman like he looks at her, unless it’s something there.”
“I don’t look at women like that at all, Renée. I’m gay, remember?”
“You know what I mean,” Renée said laughing. “Bless her soul, that big man probably wore her out with his fine ass.”
They both snickered again.
∞♥∞
Royal finally rolled over and realized that not only was Dmitry gone, but the sun was up and the clock said eleven! She jumped up, terribly sore and ran to the bathroom. She was late, really late. She knew that Dmitry had told her tha
t he would take care of everything, but it was her shop, her deal. She never meant to sleep so long. Jumping in the shower, she let the hot water cascade over her body, drench her hair and soothe those aching parts that had been excessively used in the last day.
By 11:30, Royal was locking her front door and headed downstairs. In a comfortable pair of blue linen slacks, a canary yellow Chanel tank top, and blue wedge-healed Bottega Veneta patent leather shoes, she inched downstairs with her hair pulled up in a careful pony tail.
Forced to take short, choppy steps, it was painfully ap-parent to Royal that it wasn’t easy to walk as she was still aching from the pain of being a new lover. It was a sensation unlike any that she had ever known. On one hand she felt like she was glowing and could sing like a bird, but on the other hand, her body felt like it had recently suffered the business end of a Billy club.
As her feet hit the bottom step, she quickly turned and ran out into the store. She could feel Dmitry behind her, watching her, but if she stopped and dared look at him, she might end up back upstairs in his embrace – naked and panting like a dog in heat.
Dmitry smirked as he watched her shimmy out of the back office away from him. He also noted her soreness, and the fact that he should have soaked her in a hot bath, even against her will.
Anatoly uttered something to him in Russian and gave a smug smile.
“Enough of that,” Dmitry replied abruptly.
Hoping not to be terribly missed or noticed, Royal quietly announced herself and quickly made her way around glass and marble countertop, where Renée was checking someone out. A few early morning patrons looked through the new dresses and talked to each other, ignoring her all together. Royal was thankful for that.
“Hey, boss,” Renée said, turning to look at her visibly exhausted friend.
“Hey,” Royal said, moving her bangs out of her face. “Sorry that I’m late. I didn’t get much sleep.” She yawned.
Cory laughed, most unexpectedly. He tried to repress it, but it shot up from his diaphragm. He grabbed his mouth, trying to muffle the sounds, but they crept across the boutique. Renée smirked and turned away.
“What is so funny?” Royal asked, flinging her head to look at Cory, her long pony tail trailing around her shoulder like a black python.
“Nothing,” Renée said, touching Royal’s neck. “You’ve got a little bruise action going on there.”
Royal touched her neck and looked in the mirror. Damn it! How could she have missed that? It was a huge passion mark that was deep red and completely visible – undeniable in fact.
There was a whistling tune that rang from the back of the store as Dmitry made his way through the boutique. With his newspaper tucked under his arm, he walked casually over to Royal, who stood looking in the mirror at her neck and ignoring him all together. As usual, the patrons stopped shopping and gawked at both his size and his haunting beauty. And as usual, Dmitry kept his eyes on Royal. She was always his target.
“What are you staring at in that mirror,” he asked, look-ing down her shirt.
“Evidence,” she said, showing him the passion mark.
“Dear, I’m afraid those are all over your body. Besides that, how are you?”
“Fine,” she said, forced to smile at the sight of him. Her eyes brightened. “I’m perfect.”
“You should have rested longer. You are only as com-petent as your weakest employee. And I think you have strong employees, eh?”
“I should have been up two hours ago.” She felt a flut-ter in her stomach, remembering his masculine smell all over her. She’d hated to wash it off.
“Well, you look great. Actually, I wish that I had more time. I’d let you know exactly how beautiful you look.”
With his long arm, Dmitry reached across the fine jewelry to the back of her neck and pulled her in to his embrace. Slowly, he kissed her right in front of Cory, Renée, the customers and God Almighty. Tasting the sweetness of her lip gloss, he released her and licked his lips. He was fighting a hungry erection again.
“Umm…you still taste delicious,” he noted.
Royal opened her eyes and knew instantly that all eyes were on her. She stood back up straight and smiled.
“Thank you…for that. Have a good day,” she said blushing.
“You, too,” he said, rubbing her arm. He looked at Renee, who was standing dumbfounded with her mouth gaped wide open. Quietly, he turned and walked out just as he had come in -with all eyes on him.
Royal could feel the chaotic energy in the room, but for once she didn’t care. They were in love, and if he didn’t mind that the world knew, neither did she.
“Don’t say a word,” Royal said to Renée as she grabbed a yellow button down to slip on to hide her bruises. “You either, Cory.”
“Oh, we are way past words,” Cory said, turning to help a customer.
“I need to grab the fire extinguisher. It’s hot as hell in here,” Renee joked.
Chapter 8
The basement of Mother Russiarestaurant was basic and unattractive, quite the opposite of its upstairs luxury. It was illuminated by industrial halogen lights, painted in pewter black paint, covered in black linoleum floors and highlighted by one very large wooden table sent from Russian with seating for the divine 16.
No windows gave the large space a depressing, dunge-on-like feeling. It reminded Dmitry of the rainy nights he had spent in prison. It was such a constant reminder until he absolutely hated going downstairs in the basement and would only conduct business there when it was most necessary.
Today, unfortunately, was one of those necessary days. Dmitry had just left the springtime of Royal’s presence and had abruptly entered the hell that he called his private life.
Anatoly followed closely behind him as he walked down the steps of the hidden space, where a small group of men sat around a long table awaiting him. His feet made an echo through the concrete staircase as he made his way down. Each step made him nervous. The winding stairs were in a tight place, perfect for ambush. When his foot met the last step, the entryway expanded into a very large opening. Dmitry took a deep breath, glad to get rid of the claustrophobic feeling.
Two men with automatic weapons stood at a double door’s entry. When they saw Dmitry, they opened the doors quickly and moved quietly out of his way.
He walked in the room and sighed. “Gentlemen,” he said, bidding them a good morning.
They all spoke collectively and watched as he sat at the head of the table. It was after all his rightful spot. He was the head of the Medlov Russian Organized Crime Family, a faction of the feared and revered Vory v Zakone that had migrated from Russia to southern London to New York to Memphis.
Dmitry ended up in Memphis due to the growing distribution hub in the city and the convenience of the ever useful Mississippi River. When he first arrived, he had only a team of three, but his expansion required the recruitment of old friends from around the globe.
The men had come obediently through the years to serve the Vory and their fearless leader, Dmitry. He had spent ten long years working to build his empire, and in one decade he had amassed more wealth and power than anyone had in his position before him.
However well-known he was in the dangerous under-ground circles, Dmitry hid in plain sight well, behind lucrative and very upstanding investments both in safe stocks and real estate, starting new businesses and pretend-ing to be an upstanding citizen working hard in his restau-rant because of his passion for food and his desire to be around people.
However, everyone in this room knew that hewas the coldest, strongest, and most astringent of them all. A true member of the obocheck. He had slaughtered anyone who dared stand in his way, purchased both politicians and police alike, intimidated and followed through on the most unthinkable threats. And never truly worked a day in his life. He was Boss Dmitry Medlov.
The other fifteen men around him had been allowed to live within a modified code of the Thieves-in-law. They had been permitted wiv
es, children, the ability to intermingle with the society and the denial, so far, of the penalty of death for their transgressions against the code.
However, Dmitry had stayed true to the old ways. He had watched over them, rightfully chosen as their leader because of his denial of all things that went against the code. He had not taken a woman as anything more than a lover; he had no children bearing his name; although he had businesses, he had never worked a day in his life – lived on only what he made through the code; and he loathed the government and all of its criminal justice departments. He had a file within every federal agency in the U.S., several in UK, was on watch by Interpol and still feared in Russia, the Ukraine and Georgia.
Only no one could touch him, because he was so skilled at covering his tracks.
“You know the drill, Anatoly. Check the room before we begin,” Dmitry said, looking through a file that had been placed in front of him.
Not only did Dmitry run all of their secret gatherings like corporate board meetings, but he also had paid an FBI agent to train Anatoly to check the room for bugs and the phone for taps.
“It’s clear,” Anatoly said, standing in the back of the room, two Glocks visible in the leather holsters under his arms.
“Good. Now,I’ll make this quick, mostly because I just don’t want to be here today,” Dmitry huffed, irritated. “While I am your leader, I’ve always considered us to be brothers. I have been fair with you. Where I have pros-pered, so have you. But the knife cuts both ways. Where I have suffered, so shall you, if you are the cause. Would you not agree that this is wise?”
They all agreed that it was not only wise but generous.
“Then why would one of you desecrate the most scared of our laws by talking to the police?”
The men looked around urgently, all surprised, at least one scared of what he knew the consequence would be. Death. It was part of the code. No Vor cooperated with the government. It had been the one code that was unbreakable, and so far in all the years they had been in Memphis, it had gone unbroken.
Dmitry's Closet Page 9
