Dmitry's Closet (26 page)

     "Umm... I miss you too." He kissed her lips. "Do you have plans today?"

     "I have a few meetings." There was silence.

     "When are you going to start our vacation?"

     "Soon. Isn't Davyd showing you a good time?"

     "Yes, but I want you to show me a good time."

     "Name a morning that I haven't." Royal laughed. "I mean outside of the bedroom."

     "Oh… I'll be finished with all of the madness very soon."

     "What have you been doing over here?"

     Dmitry eyed her curiously. "I've been consolidating some of my businesses."

     "How many do you have?"

     "Here?"

     "Period."

     "Many, love."

     "Maybe I could help you with some of your businesses if you're having troubles, since I did an okay job with the boutique?" Her eyes were eager with anticipation.

     Dmitry smiled and rubbed his hand down the side of her neck.

     "Business is good, but thanks for the offer. I may take you up on that one day soon."

     "Well, I just wanted you to know that the offer is always there, especially since I'm about to spend up all your money today with your little black card."

     Dmitry smirked. "Spend as much as you like. It won't break any of my banks." He looked at his watch and sighed. "I better get up."

     "Okay. I'm starving. Will you have breakfast with me before you leave?"

    
"Dab"
he said, standing up naked beside the bed and stretching. "Come take shower with me first."

     Pulling herself out of the bed, Royal followed Dmitry into the bathroom and closed the doors behind them. She felt his arms wrap around her as she did. He pulled her close to his body.

     "Are you ready for that
good time
that we were talking about earlier?" he asked, picking her up off the ground.

     She giggled. Of course, she was.

Chapter 19

     Dmitry prepared to leave the building with his full entourage for his meeting. They were all in expensive black suits and dress coats, all standing tall and wide, intimidating the onlookers as they passed by quietly.

     People whispered as they glided through the building. Mafia. Vory. Medlov. Men moved over to let them pass, and women looked on curiously.

     Their footsteps could be heard in cadence down the long marble grand hallway, full of force and retribution for anyone who dared block their paths.

     While the others relished the attention and the urgency that came with their presence, Dmitry walked confidently, never really paying attention to all of the attention that was on him. He considered the men's eagerness and their aggressive attitudes to be an attribute of youth, therefore brushing it off.

     Instead, he focused on the important meeting that would convene in less than an hour. It was imperative that everything go as well as it had the day before in New York.

     The heavy snow storm had picked up and violent winds ripped through the front doors of the hotel as Dmitry passed through them. The force of the winds waved through his heavy wool black coat, through the curls of his hair, straight through his suit to his bones.

     Dmitry took in a deep breath, expanding his lungs in the cold, feeling the burn through his chest. He welcomed the cold and the violent weather. It was just a friendly reminder that he was home.

     His eyes sparkled like blue diamonds in the snow, the blondness of his hair and the rose embellished hue of his fair skin blended well in his native terrain. However, there was nothing more natural to him that the tech nine automatic machine gun in its holster under his coat, the knife in his pants leg or the Glock in his briefcase.

     Many heads of Vory chose to travel light and let their men carry the real hardware, but Dmitry believed that leadership started with good examples. He insisted that every man with him come strapped or not come at all.

     Dmitry and Anatoly were loaded in together in the middle of the caravan of Mercedes trucks. Then they all were carted off to a private summit with heads of the Vory v Zakone, unsure of what the events might have in store.

     Dmitry had not shared with anyone outside of his son, the purpose of the meeting but insisted that it was most urgent.

     Anatoly sat across from Dmitry, shaved, showered and suited. The change in his wardrobe had been deliberate and demanded by his father. Dmitry had come to him a few weeks ago with a card for a tailor and instructed him to go there.
No one will ever take you seriously if you don't,
Dmitry said to him in a low, baritone chastising tone.

     That day, Anatoly had gotten rid of most of his favorite clothes and started to wear tailored suits, made especially for his body, for his job. Playtime was nearing its end for Anatoly, and even he knew it.

     "If all goes well, this will be the last time that you and I will travel together," Dmitry said with a small, proud grin. "To ensure that all is not lost in an ambush, we won't be allowed."

     "You mean there will be no more chauffeuring you around?" Anatoly asked sarcastically.

     "I know that you will miss it," Dmitry said jokingly. "But I will need a new driver."

     "Are you sure that you want to do this?" Anatoly asked, concerned.

     "You act as though I'm leaving something that has brought me great joy." Dmitry chuckled a little under his breath then looked over at his son. "I couldn't be surer of anything. Trust me."

     "It was your life for so long, though. How can you walk away? If she loves you, she can do so with you as the man you are. To reinvent yourself seems hopeless. It doesn't seem right to give up your life to enhance hers."

     Dmitry was quiet for a moment. "My life is back in that hotel now. I'm growing tired of this, Anatoly. Yet, I've worked too hard to just give it over to someone who doesn't deserve it. You are my son. This is your rightful place. You are the rightful heir. It has worked out a lot better than I ever expected it to. Before you came into my life, I was sure that it would end... badly."

     Anatoly nodded. "I only hope that I can make you proud."

     "You've already done that," Dmitry confirmed.

     "You know, for years, I was a snotty-nosed teenager terrorizing these same streets, dreaming about becoming Vory v Zakone, dreaming about meeting you and plotting on ways to make more crumbs." Anatoly looked at his father and smiled. "Now, I may very well be a boss at twenty-one years old. That sounds unbelievable."

     "One of the youngest... ever."

     "It's a big responsibility."

     "Well, I have prepared you well. There is no better tutelage than my own. You remind me of myself, except for your height. You are barely 72 inches. That is extremely short for a Medlov, but your heart is like lion. You are a fighter and a leader. No one can deny this. You won't let them."

     "And a killer," Anatoly added. Even he was not without some guilt.

     Dmitry looked out the window and sighed. "That is one of the staples of this brotherhood, son. To kill or to be killed. Very few of us are blessed to die of old age."

     Dmitry cleared his throat. "It's...how we are born. To worthless women, to lives of crime, famine, darkness. We are bred to be what we are now. You should never feel bad about that. It is the nature of the beast. Besides, no one can ever say that I gave you a silver spoon. You came in and worked as a lowly solider. You had to gain your respect, and you did. Now, these papers in my briefcase confirming your biological DNA link to my own, your loyal work to the Vory v Zakone, the blessing from the New York family and my final stamp of approval will end all doubt that your rightful place is at the head of your father's table."

     Anatoly tried hard not to get emotional. Instead he nodded at his father and sat up straighter. He wished that some of the young men, who had made fun of him as a little boy when he told them who his father was but did not believe him, could see him now being escorted through downtown Moscow with Dmitry Medlov, the most feared of the Vory v Zakone in all of Russia.

     Anatoly wished more than anything that he could see all their faces when he had stars across his chest. His mother would have died of pride. His younger brother would have wanted nothing more to do with him. His boys...they would have been so jealous—extremely envious of him. But he knew that all of his hopes were in vain. Nothing would ever be the same if he received approval today. He looked over at his father, relaxed and confident, even going before the wolves. How he wanted to be him one day.

∞♥∞

     There were supposed to be no meetings while Dmitry was away in Russia, and most of the council chose to adhere to his wishes. However, a small group led by Ivan gathered under the cover of night in the back of a small restaurant on the outskirts of Memphis to talk about the future of the Medlov Family without Dmitry as its leader.

     Although all the men feared Dmitry, and rightfully so because of his iron hand, some longed to grow their legacy through other means that had been deemed
unstable for the Memphis operations
by the collective council many years before.

     Ivan had picked up on this tension in many of the meetings and had provided the men an audience as soon as word reached them that Dmitry would be away for a few weeks. He was great at reading people, especially corrupt people. He had used his intuition on many occasions to capitalize on his own ambitions. This situation was no different. Now, he would use these disloyal bastards to get to his brother.

     The rain beat on the building as they drank heavily under receded lights and soft music. Each of the three men, including Ivan, were a still a little leery of what they were attempting to do, even though Dmitry was thousands of miles away.

     Each understood the grave consequences of his actions and insisted that at least four of their best men stand post surrounding the building. However, they all knew that should Dmitry come for them, those men would not be enough protection.

     "Let's get started," Ivan began as his man closed the door of the private room. "I've spoken with several other men not associated with the Vory v Zakone around Memphis who would be interested in doing business with us. And they have agreed under one condition." He looked around the room at the eyes glued to his mouth and his every word. "The condition being that we eliminate Dmitry and any men who are in agreement with him. That would mean the entire council."

     There was an automatic sigh of defeat. The condition was more than a notion for any of them. While it appeared that Dmitry traveled light, the truth of the matter was that he had over 200 men within the region were in allegiance to him. His organizational skills should have been the seventh wonder of the world. In a dangerous business of organized crime where men continuously stabbed each other in the back, Dmitry was no Caesar and no one had ever been strong or bold enough to be his Brutus.

     "Dmitry's men are larger in number than our own by thirteen heads if you have forgotten," Nicolai, one of Dmitry's most trusted men said, taking a sip of his strong drink. "What we are proposing is the deliberate overturning of our own leader. To do that would send the wrong message to others who have long been interested in taking over our business. Plus, let us not for get the code. Thieves- in-Law. What we are proposing will cause us to face retaliation by New York and Moscow."

     "Not if we do it the right way," Ivan protested. "New York has never been one hundred percent sold on Dmitry's tactics even if Moscow has. However, they have never gotten in the way, because he has always delivered. What we need to prove is that his new love interest is proving to be his Achilles' heel. He is one of the first in the states to amend the code and allow marriage, family and legitimate business, and look what it had done to him... to us. There was a reason that the codes were in place. Who is he to change it? That is reason enough in itself for him to be killed."

     "I didn't know that you cared so much about the code," Nicolai said unconvinced. "Didn't
you
have a wife?"

     There was a silence in the room. Ivan looked over at the man with a scowl on his dark face. Then he smiled. The deepness of his dimples and the curve of his beautiful face were over powered by the sheer hatred and malice that he carried in his soul.

     "Had a wife? Yes, I did. Funny thing happened with us though. Dmitry killed her." Silence over took the room long enough for the clicking of dishes to be heard out in the main area of the restaurant. No one wanted to talk about Ivan's dead wife. Many had heard the rumors, but no one dared utter a word.

     "So this is about revenge?" Nicolai pressed the issue. "Because if it is, you need to get in line. Many people want to kill Dmitry because of someone that they've lost. It doesn't mean that they will be avenged, especially by his own captains."

     "No. This is about money. And the only way that we make more of it is to cost him and New York a great deal of theirs."

     "Are you proposing that we become sloppy in our own business?" Max asked, another of the closest of Dmitry's council.

     He had long wished for more money to pay for his mistresses and wife. The multitude of his harem was growing and his cash flowed was dwindling due to the aching recession. Plus, his jealousy towards Dmitry had only deepened through the years.

     Max had asserted to his wife and closest friends on many occasions that it was Dmitry's looks that got him as far as he had gone. Had Dmitry been fat like Max, who had been treated for diabetes, obesity and heart disease for over ten years now, then the story would have been quite different for him.

     "I am simply saying it's going to take a sacrifice in our own daily business to get rid of him."

     The men were not sold. In fact, they were more resistant that ever.

     "He'll only tighten the reigns. Our incompetence all of a sudden will send red flags. He'll cut us down where we stand." Nicolai was ready to pull away from the table. He had hoped that Ivan had a better plan than this. "Please do not tell me that you have brought us down here for some paper thin conspiracy plan that will only land our heads on the chopping block, our families, and our men. You have to have more than a few adolescent whores in mind and suggestions that we become careless in our finances. Tell me something more or I walk. Besides, if Dmitry would kill his brother's wife, God only knows what he would do to us." He looked at the other men, reminding them of how close to death they were at that very moment.