Dmitry's Closet (27 page)

     "We also give him over, limb by limb, to the police," Ivan continued adamantly.

     He was unmoved by their fear, unmoved by the mention of his dead wife. His only goal was to get them in agreement. Once the plan was laid out and complete, he would kill them too. He smiled as he thought of it. A whole new breed of Vory v Zakone would be put in place... all following him. "There is an ongoing investigation on all of us right now. You. You're family. Your men." He mocked them.

     "We're listening," Max said, concerned. He reached for his friend Nicolai to settle down. Dmitry had always protected them from any real police threat. This was a new development, a reason possibly to validate their new alliance with Ivan.

     "I don't have a lot of information right now, but I know that Dmitry was approached by two police officers at the Peabody only weeks ago. They know something and they must be close to producing evidence."

     "How can we be sure that they are not his?"

     "They are not." Ivan snapped. He would not give away his sources. "All of us are being watched. Maybe even now. I'm sure that New York would want to end the investigation here and not allow it to end up at their front door. This is how we will couch our ambush to them when they become concerned about their white knight."

     "So how do you suggest we give him over? His lawyers will find a way to have him out by night fall should the police, federal or local, pick him up. Plus, he has moles."

     "I've set up shop in quite a few places since I've been here. But I made one house very special. It's full of under aged girls, prostituted out for the most depraved sex possible." He licked his lips and grinned like a chess cat. Many of the girls at the house had been used for his own pleasure on tortured nights when he would visit. "It's a cash cow, and the house is in Dmitry's name. No one knows about it. The girls are drugged day and night. The oldest of them is only seventeen. All we need to do is somehow turn this information over to the cops. He'll be faced with hard time. That will give us time to shut down his other operations and set up our own."

     "So what are you waiting for?" Max asked. "If this is
all
that we need to do."

     "I am waiting for the right time. When he returns, we'll set it up. I'll need your help for that."

     "If that doesn't work?" Nicolai asked. "After all, it is his house. We cannot be sure that he doesn't already know that it's there. You underestimate your brother and you definitely underestimate the reach of the Vor..."

     "If all else fails, we kill him." Ivan said, rolling his eyes. "No elaborate plan. We just fucking kill him."

     "Just kill him?" Nicolai laughed. "How many have tried that? Numerous men. They are all dead. And I am not talking about good deaths. Their body parts are all over this city."

     "I am his brother. His blood. If there is a man who knows how to get to him, I do. Plus, he and I have an unsettled score." Ivan took a shot of vodka and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Don't shit your pants, ladies. I don't need your help for this. I do it myself, but when I do it, I take his place, his house, his life. I have given you three plans that can go on simultaneously. One of them will work."

     "Okay. What for us if you succeed... same percentage? Still there is no reason yet for us to consider joining with you." Nicolai didn't want to change one dictator for another. It was fruitless.

     "More. A lot more. There will be less of us to deal with. If I kill him, you kill the remaining council. That shouldn't be too hard to do, considering that they hold on to his every word. They won't know what to do without him. We will usher in a new era for the Medlov family—one where we make all the money." He looked around. His hooded dark eyes gazed over them. "Agreed?"

     "Agreed," the men said, looking at each other.

     "Good," Ivan chucked. He raised his drink and toasted the men, mocking them inwardly. They were backstabbing, disloyal servants who had no right to be called Vory v Zakone. He would make them pay but not before Dmitry. It was all that he could think of anymore.

     He had waited for his big brother to rise just to make his fall harder. The fury showed on his stone face. He looked off in the distance, thinking of his own wife and her bloody, limp body.

     Dmitry deserved death, but it would not just be enough for him to suffer. His brother's sins would be revisited upon Royal also. Ivan ached to have her. The revenge would not be complete until he had ravaged her sweet little body in such a way that it would kill Dmitry dead without the use of a weapon.

Chapter 20

     Two weeks had passed quickly. This was the last night that Royal would spend in Moscow. Her trip had been the most surreal experience of her existence. Dmitry had finally done as he promised and taken her on a grand private tour of the Red Square, the Kremlin, the Cathedrals, downtown Moscow, great five-star restaurants for fine cuisine, shopping sprees at the best boutiques, a walk in the snow-filled park, and he had topped the vacation off by sending her to a real fashion show.

     Gostiny Dvor's atrium was packed the night before New Year's Eve. The 18
^th
century architectural gem was filled with fashion aficionados speaking many different languages all at the same time. They huddled together in their packs, smiling, laughing and networking. People wore high fashion by designers that she knew well and some that she had never heard of before.

     Waiters and waitresses bounced around the room with food and champagne; a live ban played a hip, Russia techno tune. And Royal had a natural high from simply being there. She tried desperately not to look like a deer in headlights. She only spoke English. Many of the people in the room spoke many languages and had a lot more to talk about than
Memphis.

     The notion was overwhelming to her that somehow even in all of her glamorized clothing, she was poorest woman of culture in the room. However, at that moment, she did not care. She was just excited to be there.

     Her black cocktail bag rattled on her arm. It was her cell phone. Reaching into her purse, she was grateful to see that it was Dmitry taking time to give her a call.

     "Hello." She moved to the corner to hear him better.

     "How is you evening coming along?" he asked, raising his voice to speak above the crowd in her background. He sat across from Anatoly and a few of his men having a quiet dinner in the hotel.

     Royal scanned the room. "It's too much."

     "Too much?"

     "It's amazing." She grabbed a glass off the tray as a waitress passed by. "There are so many people here."

     "Are you afraid? Where is Nadia?"

     "No, I'm not afraid. She's around here somewhere. I'm fine. Really." She paused. "I'm excited!" She put her digital camera back in its satchel, allowing it to rest from overuse. "I've never in my life been to anything like this. I'm still high on a super adrenaline rush."

     "Good." He sat back in his seat and relieved the tension growing in his body at the mere thought of her being uncomfortable. "Are you going to buy something?"

     "Yes. A few
somethings
actually. We won't be able to fit all the stuff that I've purchased on the plane. I'll have to mail it back home." She took a sip of her champagne.

     "This is not a big deal. Just enjoy yourself. Let someone else deal with the logistics."

     "Okay. What are you doing?"

     "Having dinner with my son."

     "Good. Tell him I said hello." He smiled. "I will."

     "Okay. I'll be back as soon as it's over. Can we spend some time together?" she pleaded.

     While the trip had been called a vacation, Dmitry had worked the entire time, going into meeting after meeting with Anatoly.

     "I was just about to ask you the same thing. I know that I've been really preoccupied. My apologies."

     "It's fine, baby. I've had a ball."

     "You're a very understanding woman, Royal."

     She blushed. "I try." She saw her escort, Nadia, making her way across the crowded floor to her. "Well, look. I've gotta go, but thanks for calling."

     "See you soon," Dmitry said smiling. He closed the cell phone in his hand and looked over at Anatoly. "She said to tell you hello."

     Anatoly smirked. "She talks too much."

∞♥∞

     While Dmitry did not attend the show, he did introduce her to the wife of a good friend of his who happily escorted Royal to the VIP event. She could barely understand the Russian woman Nadia, but she was very nice. She spoke with a heavy accent, always nodding her head and smiling as she talked. She wore a wedding ring that resembled the hope diamond and donned the finest furs and leather that she had ever seen.

     Nadia looked like she could have gotten up from her seat and walked down the catwalk with the other models. No one would have known. She was extremely beautiful and tanned. Royal found that odd. She was tanned in this type of frost-biting weather.

     They had seats by the catwalk, where they watched all the skinny, beautiful women prance around in front of them, showcasing the finest in Russian designs by the crafty heiress and teenager Kira Plastinina.

     Royal had purchased a few of Plastinina's collections to put in her store a few months ago. She liked Kira's whimsical dresses and bright colors, but she was now sitting at her show, preparing to order off the runway.

     After the show, as they were being escorted out of the building by their bodyguards into the cold brisk night, Royal caught a glimpse of an attractive man in a gray wool sailor's coat and a pair of jeans coming towards her.

     As he neared closer, Royal realized that it was Dmitry, towering over the others in the crowd like the gentle giant that he was. He smiled when he knew that she had recognized him. He was without bodyguards or an entourage.

     She moved away from the car in her long black gown towards him. Nadia's bodyguard quickly reached for her, stopping her from attempting to wander through the crowd. She looked up at the man and pointed over at Dmitry. He quickly released her, apologizing in his native tongue.

     "Did you enjoy it?" Dmitry asked, nodding at the bodyguard as Royal walked up to him.

     "Yes." Royal looked back over at the man one last time, before she took Dmitry's hand.

     "Take Nadia home," Dmitry ordered him. "And Nadia, thank you so much for escorting Royal."

     "It was pleasure," she said with a toothy smile.
"Pokal"

     Winking at Royal, she got into the back of the limo.

     Royal looked over at the car as it pulled off. "I guess we're walking."

     "This will be fine. You have insulation," Dmitry pulled at her coat. He leaned into her, talking under his breath and looking into her eyes. "I just wanted us to begin our private time as soon as possible. Tomorrow, we leave for Memphis, and we'll be stuck on a small plane with ten people for many long hours." His minty breath tickled her nose.

     "I know," Royal huffed. "Moscow was starting to grow on me too.
Oh well."
She hunched her shoulders and smiled. Her eyes sparkled nearly as bright as the diamonds on her ears.

     Dmitry motioned away from the crowds of people outside loading into fine cars. "Shall we?" he asked, graciously offering his arm.

     Royal wrapped her arm around his large bicep and stayed close as he whisked them through the crowd. They walked towards the lights of their hotel. Their footsteps could be heard on the bricked pavement as they moved further and further from the crowds into the silence of their own company.

     Royal walked close to him, under his embrace. She was a little afraid to be out so late alone, having been used to the bodyguards now. But Dmitry walked carefree, unworried with being alone. His solace calmed her.

     "Where are we going?" Royal asked.

     "Up to the room, so we can get rest for tomorrow. Maybe we can have
nightcap!"

     "Are you being a dirty old man," she asked, raising her eyebrow at him, recalling the night before.

     "What? I didn't do anything." He smiled at her. "This time, I really do want drink. But I just felt like walking for change." He took a deep breath. "Slow down finally. It's been long time since I could do that, you know."

     "I see you have on your Christmas gift," Royal said, observing the nice new leather carrying case for his blackberry.

     "Dah. This was a very thoughtful gift.
Spasiba.
I love you almost as much as I love my phone." He smiled at her.

     "Well, I knew that you needed a new one. You're old one was starting to look bad."

     "You know, you always seem to get me the things that I can really use and that I appreciate it."

     "Yeah?"

     "Yeah," Dmitry repeated. "I am thinking that one day, you might get me a son or even daughter." He looked at her.

     "You have your order mixed up. The cart is not supposed to go before the horse." She rolled her eyes.

     "You seem sensitive about it tonight."

     "I have my reasons." There was silence as they walked.

     Dmitry stopped and turned to her. "This expression
horse and cart
refers to marriage right?"

     "Right."

     "You're very sensitive about that too."

     "Most women are."

     "No
one
is as sensitive about it as you."

     Royal could feel the heat of her skin. How dare he? She tried to stay calm but it was not easy. She took deep breaths and focused on the beauty around her. No reason to ruin the night.

     Dmitry observed her anger. He knew her well by now.

     "Why are you so sure that you're missing out on something?"

     "You wouldn't understand." Tears pricked at her eyes. She held them back.

     "Understand? What is there to understand? Tell me."