Dmitry's Closet (33 page)

Chapter 26

     Ivan took a drag of his cigarette, while he watched the sun rise above the horizon. Spitting over the balcony, he propped his long leg up on the railing and listened to the local news on the television just inside the patio door.

     Although there had been no reports of an arrest of his brother, Ivan's contact told him that Dmitry had been detained by the FBI. However, he suspected that it was not for long enough, so, he and his men had relocated in the middle of the night to a vacant studio apartment downtown. It was right under his brother's nose, but the last place Dmitry would think to look—directly across from the restaurant in view of everything.

     Ivan's men were ready to battle and hungry to take over the new territory. They were not skittish like Max and Nicolai's men, and they were not blindly loyal like Dmitry's drones. His men were like him—opportunistic, ready to
carpe diem.
Most of them had no official ties to Vory z Vakone. They had no true understanding of the code, but they were aggressive, moral-less, vile creatures willing to do anything to make a buck.

     Ivan preferred them that way, instead of true soldiers. He would have less remorse should he ever have to kill them all—all except Dorian, his only true brother, whom he would never kill. It was a pity that a division such as this had to bring them together and tear he and his real blood apart, but at least he did not walk away empty handed.

     Dorian walked out on the patio beside him and took off his acrylic work goggles.

     "The payload is ready," Dorian said confidently.

     "Then it will happen today," Ivan confirmed.
"Doom's Day!'
He smiled.

     "Only this is no Normandy," Dorian said yawning. "I suppose I should get some sleep then. I've been up for thirty-six hours."

     "After this evening, you can sleep for days. There will be no more threats for either of us."

     "Have you decided about the girl?"

    
"Dah.
She'll pay too. She'll pay for Ari." Ivan still said her named with reverence.

     "I don't know if it's right. Ari was one of us—a killer, a warrior, part of the resistance in Georgia. This Royal doesn't seem to be a fighter at all."

     "Do you say that because she's black, brother? Do you feel some sort of kinship to her?"

     Dorian smiled. "No but if I did, I wouldn't have any shame in telling you. I just wonder if going after an innocent won't damn you."

     "Innocent?" Ivan huffed. "Why do you think she's innocent?"

     "I don't know her. I've only seen the pictures of her, but she doesn't look like she should be involved."

     Ivan thumped his cigarette over the balcony and turned to Dorian. "Well if you feel that way, I would suggest that you
not
stick around for the grand finale. It might turn your stomach." He winked at Dorian and went inside.

     Dorian sincerely cared for Ivan. He was like his brother, and he sympathized with him for all that he had lost because of their alliance, but it did not stop him from seeing that at times Ivan was evil to the bone. It was because of Ivan's malice that he decided that this favor to him would be his last. He would not have a hand in ravaging a young woman to avenge Ivan's murdering and conniving late wife.

∞♥∞

     The sun rose over Dmitry's bedroom and casted a glow over Royal's naked sleeping body. Dmitry on the other hand had not slept since he carried her up to their room many hours before. Instead, he sat across from the bed in a leather-backed chair watching her sleep and thinking of what was surely to come.

     Night had receded behind dawn's rising call, and Dmitry still had not moved. It was News Year's Day. He had spent the night before fighting demons of a past that had come back to haunt him at his most inconvenient time, and he still could not determine if he had won. While the beast he called his lust had been tamed, and Royal thoroughly satisfied, he wondered if the good feeling of the previous night would still be there with him when
she
woke.

     Without Royal's knowledge, he had planned a very romantic evening for them the night before, but it had been rudely interrupted by a truck full of feds and a very sharp steak knife.

     He rubbed his throbbing head and put down the pen and paper that he had used to write up some very important notes for his son and his lawyer to follow in the next coming days. His head was pounding and his mind raced like a pack of wild wolves... such was the life of a crime boss.

     As the sun settled on her face, Royal turned suddenly in the bed. Her movements suggested a nightmare. She flinched and jerked as if she were in pain.

     Dmitry sat up in the chair with his hands planted firmly on the armrests watching her, wondering if he should shake her awake. She turned violently again, then sat up on her own. Her hair bounced with full body as it nestled around her small frame, her perky full breasts and beautiful skin.

     There was a short calm before the storm. Lazily, she made eye contact with Dmitry; then with a jolt, she covered her mouth and jumped out of bed.

     He watched her long body stride through the large bathroom double doors and kneel before the toilet. Suddenly, he heard her coughing and her body up heaving the little food that she had eaten the night before.

     Dmitry followed her into the bathroom and walked up behind her as she kneeled before the toilet. Lovingly, he bent down and moved her long, wild hair out of the way for her. She held on to both sides of the seat, feeling the cool porcelain on her long fingers while she coughed and gagged. The smell of the toilet water made her even more nauseated. She gagged again.

     Dmitry walked over and ran a small hand towel under the faucet and brought it back to her. She took it and wiped her mouth.

     "Thank you," she looked away from him.

     "What's wrong with you," he asked, helping her up.

     "I don't know. Nerves, I guess. You have worried the shit out of me in the last day or two." She sat down on the bench, while he ran her a hot bath. She refused to look at him.

     "You're not a nervous woman." Dmitry sat on the edge of the tub. His eyes were critical.

     "Could you get my robe, please?" Royal pulled her hair behind her ear and crossed her arms. "I'm freezing."

     Dmitry raised his eyebrow at her but did as she asked. He walked into the adjoining closet and retrieved her pink terrycloth robe. Passing it to her, he sat beside her on the bench and ran his hands over his head.

     He yawned. "You didn't drink last night," he said, watching her stand up and quickly cover herself.

     "Probably something I ate." She went to the sink and grabbed her toothbrush. Her hands were still shaking.

     Dmitry scratched his head. "You didn't eat very much last night."

     "Well that's probably it then," she snapped.

     She turned on the faucet and grabbed the toothpaste. Looking down at the marble countertop, she saw her tears fall from her eyes. She tried quickly to wipe them away. Looking back up into the mirror she saw Dmitry standing behind her. She turned around and looked up at him.

     "I may have little firsthand knowledge in this area, but give me some credit, eh?"

     She read his face. He knew. There was no need to lie to him.

     "I told you the night that you proposed to me that children were not out of the question," she said, allowing the tears to run down her hot cheeks. "I'm sorry for not telling you. I wanted to. The detention center just didn't seem like the right place."

     Dmitry scratched his stubby beard and smiled. "How far along are you?" He kissed the crown of her head.

     "Two months. I found out right before we left for Moscow. I was going to surprise you last night at midnight with the news." She rolled her eyes. "But you ended up surprising me with your own."

     Dmitry walked over to the tub and turned off the water. She looked at his long body as it slumped over at the news. All of that time he asked me for a baby, now he doesn't want it, she thought to herself sadly.

     Dmitry took a deep breath and turned around. "I made you fall last night on the floor in the kitchen. I forced you upstairs. I made you scream and cry." His face was distressed. "I could have hurt you and the baby. I couldn't live with myself, if I did. I'm so very sorry."

     Royal's face lit up. He did care. She went over to him and slid in between his legs.

     "I'm sure that we're fine."

     Dmitry grabbed her arm and pulled at her gently. "Please, tell me that you want it, even though you know what I am. Don't kill it. I beg you."

     "Now you're being ridiculous. This is
my
child. I would never hurt it, and you know it. We were both orphans in a way, Dmitry. It's up to us to make this right for our own."

     He shook his head in disbelief of his initial thoughts and how strong Royal was. "I'm committed to making sure that both of you have the best life that I can provide you."

     "I know, Dmitry."

     He touched her face. "You just don't know what you mean to me."

     "No, but I'm sure in time, you'll show me." There was little enthusiasm in her eyes.

     Dmitry sighed. She still didn't trust him, but who could blame her. He had lied to her, deceived her, endangered her and impregnated her. For the life of him, he did not understand why she loved him. Even all the money he gave did not supplement for the pain he had provided for free.

    
"Dah,
I'll show you if it's the last thing that I do," he said, hugging her tightly. "Now, let's get you in bed. And I'll go and fix you some breakfast."

∞♥∞

     Renée locked the diamond collection in the safe and closed the small vault door. Cory had just informed her that Dmitry had decided overnight to do a complete overhaul of the shop without notice and would have the place closed for at least the next two weeks.

     The large clientele list would be extremely disgruntled when they received notice, but Dmitry evidently didn't care.

     "And I'm still going to get paid, even though we're
closed?"
Renée inquired.

     "That's what Dmitry said. Evidently, Royal is a little under the weather, and Dmitry has hired a contractor to come in and do a big overhaul. He would have told you himself, if you had answered the phone first." He batted his eyes and turned off the lights to the boutique.

     "I don't see why he wants to change it. He just opened. Seems like a waist of an investment," Renée continued.

     She slipped her cell phone in to her purse and headed for the back door. "Maybe I should stop over and see Royal."

     "Not today," Cory insisted as he followed her out of the store. "She's got a doctor's appointments."

     "Oh," Renée was disappointed. She had not seen Royal since she left for Russia nearly three weeks prior. "Well, I'll just stop by tomorrow since I'm off
with pay."
She looked at him and raised her eyebrow.

∞♥∞

     Sorrello closed the door to the squad car and walked up the steep driveway of Agosto's Central Avenue home. He looked around the property suspiciously, wondering how a young detective could afford such a pricey neighborhood.

     Agosto had a stereotypical, luxury southern home, complete with large white plantation-style posts on the front of the house and four very old rocking chairs on the porch; ivy vines grew up and down the sides of the house leading from a well-manicured lawn and garden that was at least a half-acre or more. Patriotic in stature, a large American flag hung from one of the posts, waving in the icy wind.

     The dark brick house was three stories tall with huge white shutters on every window facing the front yard. Two large oak trees with swings attached to the large limbs stood on either side of the lawn along with an array of toys that lined the porch.

     Sorrello was bemused. Agosto either married into money or was from money. Either way, his style of living far exceeded any lifestyle that Sorrello was used it.

     As he stepped on the porch, he heard the dog in the back yard barking. Before he could ring the doorbell, a beautiful black woman in gray business suit with her hair pulled up in a soft ponytail and her neck adorned with pearls opened the stately white door and stood behind the screen door.

     "May I help you?" she asked, her silky voice and bright smile warmed Sorrello's freezing body for a moment from the winter weather.

     "Yes, maim. I'm Agent Sorrello. I'm here for Agosto,
I think.
Hell, I might be at the wrong address." He took in more of the mansion from door, instantly recognizing the large chandelier a few feet above her.

     "No," the woman opened the door. "You're at the right address. He's in the kitchen having breakfast. Are you hungry?" She moved out the doorway and allowed him to come inside.

     "No. I just ate some McDonalds." He passed her and came in contact with the fragrance of her Chanel cologne.

    
"McDonalds?"
The woman snickered. "Agent Sorrello that is not a hearty southern breakfast. Why don't you come on in and have a seat. I'll fix you a plate, and you can eat with Nicola."

     "Well, since you're gonna twist my arm," Sorrello said shocked.

     The large diamond ring blinding him on her wedding finger confirmed it. Agosto had never mentioned that his wife was
black,
even after all of the snide remarks that he had made about Royal and Dmitry. He was terribly embarrassed.

     Mrs. Agosto escorted Sorrello down the long corridor to the kitchen where Detective Agosto was reading the newspaper and talking to two little boys, who sat in front of him obediently answering their father. He looked up as his wife came through the door. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he stood up and took off his reading glasses.

     "Hey, man," Agosto said, pulling out a chair. "You're early."

     "Yeah." Sorrello looked down at the handsome twin boys, who watched him curiously.