Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen (20 page)

"It's better to try than to knowingly allow bloodshed again, isn't it? Dmitry would never go back on his word, if he promised me or anyone. He's not that type of man."

"Didn't he promise you? He's gone back the Vor-for all we know, for good."

"It was to save Anatoly. I know it. I just do. He doesn't want that anymore. He wants us."

"Okay." He shook his head. "Okay. Yeah. If you are in Sochi with him tomorrow, and you can make them agree to a truce, then I'll do it. But it has to be after the deal is completed. Otherwise, my clients will kill us all. If you don't show, I'm sorry. I can only say that I tried."

"I understand." She stood up. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For giving us a chance to live again. For not doing what Ivan did to us."

He smiled. "I have only one request. And I know it's selfish but… "

"Okay," she stepped closer to him.

"As a signal to let me know that you are still on my side, wear the dress that I bought."

She looked over at the dress bag. "It's awfully formal."

"So is the place that were meeting. You'll fit in perfectly."

"And it's at that hotel you were telling me about?"

"Yes. There will be a ticket waiting for you under the name Royal Stone."

Royal smiled. It felt good to hear that name again.

He reached out for her hand and kissed it. She did not pull away. She was enchanted by his kindness, grateful for it. He stood back up and looked down into her warm eyes. He could see why Dmitry had left his life for her. She was completely undeniable.

"Please, go," he whispered. "I can't control myself much longer."

Royal smiled and turned to grab the dress bag and jewelry. "Well, thank you again for being such a gentleman," she said in a low voice.

He saw her out and closed the door, aching to have her right then.

By the time that Royal left Dorian's hotel room, she didn't feel like going back to the boutique. She was mentally exhausted from the thought of having to save her entire family, broken-hearted by her husband's deceitful little secret and confused by her immediate attraction to her husband's arch enemy. Overall, it had been one hell of a morning, so she decided to catch a cab to the condo in town and rest there for a while.

No one would know the difference, but at least she could get a plan in place to get to Sochi without Dmitry knowing.

The clouds had begun to blot out the sun, and the winds started to pick up. It was about to rain. Just what she needed. Raising her hand, she hailed a taxi and hurriedly got out of the weather.

When she got to her condo, she paid the driver and ran out of the rain up to the gate and punched in the code.

As soon as she opened the front door to her home, she knew someone else had been there. She pulled the gun from her purse and proceeded in. After many years of being a Medlov, the one thing she knew was to keep a weapon handy. Not bothering to say a word, she walked through the house quietly to each room, all of which had been occupied since she had last been there.

At the base of the stairs, she looked up towards the window on the second floor and saw no one in the reflection.

Slowly, she inched up each step until she arrived at the second floor. Her heart pounded a mile a minute in her chest. She swallowed hard as she arrived at her bedroom. The door was open and someone was lying in the bed asleep.

Cocking the gun, she went into the room and nearly fainted as she saw who was in the bed. That bitch, Victoria! She slipped out of her heels and dove into the bed on top of the startled woman.

"You fucking whore!" Royal screamed, snatching the woman up.

Victoria's body jerked and her eyes popped open to see Royal hit her in the eye with the end of her spiked stiletto. Blood spurted across the silver comforter as the women struggled. Royal reached back with a balled up fist and punched Victoria in the lip, then dug her nails into her chest.

"Get off me!" Victoria fought back, but Royal was much too angry and heavy. Her attempts were feeble at most.

Royal dragged her out of the bed by her hair and pointed the gun at her.

"So, Dmitry just figured he would play me like a fucking fiddle, huh? Move you across town like I wouldn't find out? I will cut his balls off!"

"No! No, Anatoly brought me here," she explained, covering her bloody face. "Please!"

"Anatoly?" Royal wiped her tear-stained face.

"He drugged me and brought me here," Victoria explained. "I'm working for him now. I swear!"

Royal stopped pointing the gun, pushed Victoria down and paced from side to side.

"I don't believe you. What the hell would he want with you?"

"I'm supposed to go to Sochi tomorrow."

The words rang in Royal's ears.

"Sochi?"

"Yes," Victoria covered her wounded face. "Dmitry had nothing to do with it!"

"I told you if I ever saw you again… " Royal pointed the gun and screamed. "You fucking home wreaker!"

"I know! I had every intention of leaving. Please. You have to believe me!" the woman cried. "Anatoly wouldn't let me. He grabbed me at the restaurant and brought me here. I don't even know where I am."

"What is going on in my family?" Royal screamed. She put her hand on her head and grunted. She looked back at Victoria bundled up by the bed covering her face. "What are you doing in Sochi tomorrow?"

"Buying art," she stuttered.

"For Dmitry and Anatoly?"

"I guess. I don't know. I wasn't told everything."

"Anatoly brought you here?"

"Yes. See, I'm in his shirt," she looked up at Royal desperately. "He just left. He said he wouldn't be back tonight. I'm supposed to get on a flight in the morning for Sochi and purchase some art tomorrow night. That's all I know."

Royal calmed herself. She breathed through her mouth, exhaling her anger. "You low down, conniving bitch."

"Look, I know that I was wrong," she wiped her face and calmed her breathing. "I've been apologizing for two fucking days, but I think that I've been paid back adequately for what I've done now."

"Did Anatoly touch you?"

"He didn't hurt me if that's what you mean."

"So you slept with him?"

"Yes," she said sighing. "Yes. Okay. I slept with him." She wiped her face on the sleeve of the shirt and shook her head.

Royal looked at her and shook her head in disgust. "I trusted you," she pointed the gun again.

"I. Am. Sorry."

Royal bit her lip and wiped the tears from her face. "Well, sorry just isn't good enough anymore," she said in a cool tone.

Royal leaned against the bed holding her heart and slid down against the mattress. Crying, she let out a painful sob as she dropped the gun.

Victoria was mortified, dumbfounded by what she had done to the woman. She went to her and sat by her on the floor.

"I am sorry," Victoria said in a hushed one.

"Yeah, me too."

They sat quietly in the now silent room alone together.

* * *

Dmitry had only made it home a half hour before he got a call from a manager at the Hotel Iron Gate. Royal had hand-delivered a dress to a suite and a gentlemen staying alone by the name of Andrew Oriachiav.

When he hung up the phone, he threw it across the room, knocking the picture off the wall. He knew something was wrong with Royal. It had to be this
Andrew
guy. Royal never hand-delivered a damned thing. And she was so eager to leave the restaurant earlier with her story about the shop.

He stood up and paced the room for a minute, turning redder by the second. If she was cheating on him with another man, he would kill her lover right in front of her. He would cut his heart out of his body and cut it into pieces in front of her! He leaned against the desk, then threw all the contents against the wall.

"Davyd!" he called, pulling his guns out of his desk drawer. "Bring my fucking car around and get the men together!"

* * *

Royal and Victoria talked over a cup of coffee and an emergency kit that Royal used to apply to Victoria wounds. They discussed the deal and Victoria's brief sexual encounter with Anatoly. Oddly enough, Royal had been extremely understanding and forgiving of the woman.

"I need your help, Victoria," Royal said, applying a bandage.

"How?"

"I have money. Lots of it. I need to get to Sochi with you in the morning. Don't tell anyone—especially Anatoly."

"What if the flight is full?

"Have you ever offered a flight attendant a thousand bucks to move things around? It works. Trust me."

"So, if you go to Sochi, you plan to do what?"

"Save my family. I'm the only one who can. Dorian won't trust or listen to anyone else. Tell you the truth, I'm not sure why he would even listen to me."

Victoria sighed. "Do you think it's a set up?"

"This is going to sound really crazy, but… no, I don't. I looked into his eyes, listened to what he had to say, and I truly believe him. Now, if I'm wrong, then were all dead. But if I'm right, I could be the only thing standing between a war that could kill us all."

Victoria thought Royal was really brave and selfless for her concern. "Okay. I'll do it, but I don't know if it will work."

Royal smiled. "Thank you."

"Can you ever forgive me, Royal, for being such a horrible person?"

"I'm surrounded by horrible people. Yes, I can forgive you, especially if you help me save my boys."

Royal's cell phone range. She looked down. It was Dmitry.

"Does he know that you're here?" Royal asked Victoria.

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"Okay." She answered her phone. "Hi, honey." She tried to sound like nothing was wrong.

"Where are you?" he asked..

"I'm out in the city. Why?"

"You're supposed to be at work. You're not. I'm here waiting on you, and you haven't been back since you picked up dress."

Royal huffed. "Why are you checking on me?" That was most unlike Dmitry. He was never the smothering type.

"Why should I have to check on you? Where are you?" his voice raised.

"In. The. City." She snapped.

"You better not be at that fucking hotel with this Andrew."

Royal was shocked. "I'm not. I'm headed to the restaurant not far from our condo across town. Meet me there, if you want, in a few minutes."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No, I'm not lying to you, Dmitry. Goodness! You sound insane."

"You have no idea," he hung up the phone.

"I don't think he knows where you are," Royal said to Victoria. "I have to go. I can't let him know that I know about tomorrow, no matter what."

Royal rushed out of the house after calling a taxi and Dorian. Hearing the news, Dorian immediately left the hotel through service entrance and headed for his plane. He had to get out of town before Dmitry found him.

Within minutes, Royal was sitting at the bar of the pub down the street from her condo awaiting Dmitry. He barged into the restaurant alone with guns visible looking for her with a scowl on his face covered in rain water. His clothes stuck to his body and revealed the tattoos he hid underneath.

Royal sat up in the bar stool and pulled her hair behind her ear. Goodness. He looked psychotic. The veins stuck out of his neck and his face was red with anger. He eyed her as he walked up, looking as if he would strike her.

"Why are you here?" he asked, staring at her with an irate grimace. "And not at work?"

"What is your problem, Dmitry? You're acting like a mad man."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her out of the chair and dragged her out of the bar screaming and kicking. The few onlookers did not intervene. Instead they watched the giant man in amazement. He carried her in one arm into the rain where Davyd stood waiting.

When he tried to put her in his Bentley, she reached up and slapped him as hard as she could in his face.

"You fucking bastard!" she screamed as he placed her inside.

Jumping in the front seat, he ordered Davyd to pull off into the rainy streets. "I'm the bastard?"

"Yes!"

"What the hell were you doing at some other man's hotel room?"

"Why are you spying on me?"

"I'm not. I got a call… "

"Fuck you! You get to cheat with whores under my roof," she pushed her finger against her chest, "and I go and deliver a damned dress, and you treat me like I'm some corner rat!"

"I didn't cheat."

"I saw you kiss her, Dmitry. You were hard as hell. You wanted to fuck her in my house!"

"I wanted to kill her in
your
house! There is a difference!" He looked over his seat at her.

"I have had it up to here with you!" she touched her forehead. "You and all your bullshit. If I were a man, I would kick your ass!"

"Who was he? I went by the hotel, and he had already gone. A fucking coward. Little does he know that my reach is much farther than this city. I'll find him, whether you tell me who he is or not."

"I don't know who he is. He bought a fucking dress! Do you know how many dresses I sell a week?"

"The same dress that the manager said you brought back downstairs with you?" Dmitry ignored the rest of her rant.

"He said he changed his mind!"

"After he got what he really wanted. I would change my mind, too!"

"Fuck you. You think you run the entire world. You don't run shit. You don't run me. And for the last time, I didn't do anything!" Royal instantly thought of Victoria pleading with her one the hour before regarding her innocence. It was hard to be the accused.

Dmitry paused. He had never in his existence with Royal ever had a man once intrude on his territory. The thought of another man being with her infuriated him beyond his control. But there was the sobering thought that Royal was a true lady and had never once faltered.

Then there was the thought of revenge. He had kissed Victoria among other things in clear view and unknowingly in front of Royal. Why wouldn't she seek revenge? Women always sought revenge. His blood boiled. He wanted to kill. He wanted to rip the man's throat out with his bare hands.