Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen (23 page)

"Up, up, Anya," he growled.

As bolt of lightning stuck through him as he noticed that it was nightfall and felt the sweat on his back. How long had he been asleep?

He looked down at his watch and realized that it was a quarter past ten. Jumping up, he dashed out of the room, screaming for Stepan and Brigitte.

"Where is everyone? Stepan! Briggy!"

His old bones rattled as he moved as fast as he could.

Stepan came down the hall with guns on his side and four men following behind him. Davyd instantly recognized them. They were men from Dmitry's small army in Prague. If they had been activated, then something was wrong. He straightened his pants and wiped his sweaty face.

"Where is Royal?" he asked, knowing without being told that she was not there.

"That is what we have been trying to find out. Brigitte swears that she went into town. But
you
were unconscious, and we haven't seen her all day. Plus, she hasn't been to shop."

"Has Dmitry been notified?"

"Of course." Stepan clenched his jaw. He knew protocol.

"What did he say?"

"He said if she wasn't here then she was there. He's sent a team to comb the streets and look for her in Sochi."

Davyd hit the wall with his fist and felt for his guns. They had been taken. Probably by Royal. Stepan looked at him in his frustration and looked back at the men. "We took your guns. Didn't want Anya to shoot you in your sleep." They all smirked at the older man.

"Well give them back and give me a few men. Were headed to Sochi," he growled.

"Dmitry said you'd say that. He said that what is done can't be undone now. He wants everyone here with Anya, just in case. Call him if you like. He has got over a hundred men on the premises here in trees and out in the barn, throughout the house. You name it. Were on lockdown until whatever is happening
happens
."

"Well if that's the case, then send ten men into great room. Well sit with Anya until Dmitry arrives back to this house with Royal. Send man to the insides and outsides of every exit and tell them to take their safeties off." He started to walk off. "And give me my fucking guns back."

* * *

Full dressed in a tailored tuxedo, Dmitry sat in his suite with his son drinking a glass of vodka in the silent calm of luxurious ambience. Everything was ready, and now it was time to wait.

Anatoly watched his father carefully. Something was off. Clearing his voice, he broke the silence and uncrossed his legs.

Dmitry looked up from his distant thoughts and peered at Anatoly under blonde eyelashes. He moved the glass from his hand. The dim lights flickered off of the diamonds in his Rolex.

"I'm sure that they'll find her," Anatoly assured his father.

They had only found out a couple of hours earlier than Royal was missing. Dmitry was silent when he first found out. The wheels of his mind turned over and over until he finally spoke, informing them all that she was in the city. Anatoly found it odd, almost impossible. How did she find out? But Dmitry was certain and if he was certain, even if he was wrong, in their world it was the truth.

"Let me worry about Royal," Dmitry said finally. He smiled revealing his long, deep dimples. His eyes sparkled. "Victoria should be preparing to go over to the art gallery to make the final payment. Has she been properly instructed?"

"Yes." Anatoly sat up in the chair a little straighter. Would his father ever stop grilling him?

"You know, if you care for her at all, you should send one of the other men?"

"Care for her?" Anatoly smirked. "I told you… "

"Listen to me. You send pawns out in the field—people who you do not care if they don't come back. You don't send anyone you care about."

"Papa, she'll be fine."

Dmitry didn't smile. His voice was low. "No one is safe tonight, especially anyone involved in
this
deal. She could go to jail. She could be kidnapped. She could be killed. Are you ready to accept that?"

"Shell be fine," Anatoly stood up and walked over to the window. He looked out at all the people moving around on the streets below. It was like New Years in New York.

"You don't have much time to change your mind," he heard Dmitry say from behind him. His voice sounded worried—worried about a woman who had betrayed him and his wife.

"My mind is made up."

"Moving on then," Dmitry put down his glass on the table beside his chair and planted his elbows on his long legs. "I don't want you at the ball. I need you on the yacht. Once the deal is made, I have a feeling that the only way they're going to get the shipment out of the city is by water."

Anatoly hadn't thought of that, but it sounded like a good idea. He nodded. "Alright." He turned around to face his father.

Dmitry looked at his watch and stood up. "You know regardless of what happens tonight, I am very proud of you, and everything that I've done, I've done for you." His father stood to his full height, revealing the giant he was in stature and life. He gleamed with intelligence, power and success. It was his look that captivated the masses. It was his strength that dominated the underworld. He walked over his to son and placed his large hands on his shoulders. "If you don't learn anything else from me, I hope you've learned that I've always known what my priorities are."

"I know, Papa. And I appreciate it, from the bottom of my heart," Anatoly said. "Thieves-in-Law."

"Thieves-in-Law," Dmitry said as he let his son go. "Now, go on. Get to it. If God is willing, I'll see you at dawn." He hugged him tight.

"Damn. You're packing heavy, eh?" Anatoly observed feeling the large bulge under his fathers clothes.

Dmitry smiled and pointed at the door. The men standing at the door opened it and moved out the way as Anatoly headed out. Dmitry gave his lead man a nod as he watched his son leave.

* * *

Royal zipped up her long black gown and twisted it around on her body. Adjusting her cleavage, she pulled out the diamonds Dmitry bought her to cover up her scars, placed on her four-carat diamond earrings, slipped on her wedding ring and slipped her credit card and ID inside the corset of her dress.

She had just enough time today to purchase a gun in the raunchy hourly hotel she was holed up in almost an hour away from Downtown Sochi.

She had traded her watch and iPod for it. Totally worth it. She could hear the prostitutes working in every room around her and the smell of damp, mildewed walls nearly choked her, but she breathed it happily knowing that it was to save her family.

The filth and grime was like second skin to her. It was only a few short years ago that she was an orphan in the ghetto of Memphis getting banged around by men who only wanted to harm her. This was nothing. This was temporary. In fact, it fueled her tonight.

Face made up and heels on, she slipped the gun under her dress, dropped her backpack in the garbage can and headed out to meet her future.

* * *

Royal was right, Anatoly showed up like she said he would at Victoria's hotel door with what looked like a football team behind him of armed bodyguards. He came in alone, slipping through the door in a tuxedo and looking like a million dollars.

Her breath caught in her throat as he moved towards her. She didn't remember him looking quite so handsome. His eyes burned like fire through her, glimmered like blue waters against a white beach.

"I had to have you," he whispered in a husky growl. "Couldn't wait a second longer."

"Me either," she gasped. "Don't ruin the dress though."

"Fuck the dress."

Slipping his hand behind her head, he pulled her into his kiss—sweet and intoxicating. She could not deny it. In fact, she longed for it, although it had only been a day. She wrapped her arms around him and felt him pick her up as he bruised her mouth with his lips.

Carrying her to the bed in his arms, he had a sly grin on his face. Devious mischief was on his mind. He threw her on the bed and pulled off his jacket, revealing shiny silver guns in their forbidden holsters.

She pulled her dress up to her hips as he reached for her panties. He pulled them off slowly, drinking her body through his eyes. He kissed the folds of her long legs down to her black heels and dropped his pants.

Knees in the bed, he skipped the condom and fell down into the depths of her warmness. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. Back arched, she felt his cold hands slip behind her and pull her to him. He wanted to feel every part of her body against him.

He grunted as he pushed through her with hard, powerful thrusts. His voice was a rumbling growl as he felt her wet flesh tightened around him. Breathing through her nose, eyeing him as he devoured her, she gripped his firm ass and licked his smooth neck. He bit her, leaving a mark on her shoulder.

A strangled scream erupted as he slipped a hand in between her legs and found her pearl. He brushed against it making her body throb from within. Her body was on fire, burning as he speared into her with eager jolts of lava-like lust. He begged for more as he searched her, probed her body as sensations of climatic eruptions began. Suddenly, she hoped this wouldn't be a quickie.

Victoria's job was the first wave of the deal. After she had freshened up, she headed out of the hotel with a small entourage behind her. For once, she could understand the haughtiness that Royal picked up living this kind of lifestyle.

All eyes were on her as she walked in a convoy of good-looking, well-dressed mafiya men, escorting her through the crowd to the limo awaiting her at the door. She had an adrenaline high before she made to the lobby.

People moved out of her way as she passed. They looked curiously. She could see them whispering to their friends. "Who is that? Is she famous?" She could hear them say.
Yeah, bitches, I am
, she thought to herself. A small grin crossed her glossed lips as she lifted her head little higher.

Two motorcycles led the limo and two followed it. She sat back in her seat as her heartbeat raced with excitement.

Her thoughts went back to Royal for a moment. She hoped that she was okay, but Royal had told her not to call unless something was wrong. So far, everything was going right. She looked out the window at the foreign city and bright lights.

When she arrived at the art gallery, the mood changed. Suddenly, she was not the only star. There were so many limos lined outside of the posh, upscale building until she couldn't count them.

People stood outside in formal gowns and tuxedos and bodyguards stood by the cars with earpieces in their ears. The man in the front of the limo looked back at her, then got out and opened the door for her.

She swallowed hard and got out. Escorted through the crowd, she clutched her purse and flashed her invitation as the doors opened for her. A tall blonde woman was waiting for her. She had very distinct Russian accent.

Smiling, she lifted her left hand and motioned towards the back. They walked pass all the crowds, down a long, dimly light corridor all the way to the back to a room guarded by huge white bodyguards peering at her with an evil stare.

The men moved out of her way as she and her men entered the room. She was glad for her bodyguards as she looked around. There was only one piece of art. No artist. No crowd. No people. A single computer sat on a small black table in front of the bust that Victoria assumed was the $550,000,000.00 art.

"Please come this way," the woman said, walking up to the computer. She lifted the monitor and smiled. "Enter you account number here and then… we wait."

"Alright," Victoria said, taking a deep breath.

She walked over the computer and carefully put the numbers that Anatoly had made her commit to memory in. She heard the click of her nails against the keyboard. When she was finished, she folded her arms against her and looked over at her bodyguards.

The blonde woman stepped in front of the computer, typed something very quickly into system and then put her hand on her earpiece. A few minutes passed and then she smiled.

"We've received confirmation," she said, looking over at her bodyguards.

"Good. So, I'm assuming to you'll send the bust to the address provided," Victoria said, ready to leave.

The woman stopped smiling. Her pale face showed lines around her mouth as she bit her lip. It was obviously a continual facial expression.

"No, I don't think they deliver where you'll be going," she said, pulling out her gun.

* * *

"It's almost over now," Dmitry said to his men as he led them out of his suite.

He had just received word that his son was safely in the car and headed to the yacht. The bankers had confirmed that the transaction was complete. Now, he could handle this last bit of personal business. Buttoning his suit as he walked, he bypassed the elevators and took the stairs with his men down to the gala floor. He heard the beautiful music playing. Violins rang in his ears. How beautiful that God would let him hear his favorite instrument before the battle of his life. It gave him strength.

Dmitry's foot touched the final step when his men pushed the doors opened for him. They entered into Mezzanine level of the hotel and walked into the ball, where women swayed in beautiful dresses and men led in handsome tuxedos. He was undeniable in this setting. People looked on entranced. Who was the tall giant? He was so stately. So beautiful. The luster of the attention had worn old many years ago for him. He ignored it all.

Concentrating, he scanned the room for Russian military types. There was only one. A slender man with a pointy little nose and high cheek bones in military dress uniform. He stood with a group of other men, obviously bodyguards.

It was customary after a deal had been made on this scale for the heads of the organizations to meet once in a amicable setting. The ball was the perfect place. Lots of people. No cops.

They made eye contact, and the small man nodded at him. Dmitry made his way over with his men, and they all left through the back doors that led up a few flights of stairs to a private room overlooking the city.