Chapter 13
Later that evening, after the food had been eaten, the
wine bottles emptied and the company had gone, Royal lay
relaxed in her favorite tub. It was a classic creation – cast
iron, gloss gold enamel on the outside and beautiful gloss
white enamel on the inside with beautiful golden brass claw
feet. It sat in the middle of the bathroom surrounded by
twenty square feet of black marble flooring, accented by
two beautiful, petite water basins and a very large shower in
the corner, big enough to fit ten people in that doubled also
as a steam room. When Dmitry purchased the house, the
tub had come with it, but he was too large of a man to ever
use it. So it had sat untouched until she moved it.
Dmitry had set candles around their large bathroom to
give the area a little ambience. He left her there soaking
while he went downstairs to meet with a few of his men,
who had stressed on the phone with him the importance of
an emergency meeting. As usual, he had apologized for the
interruption and promised not to be too long. However,
Royal was certain that he might be gone the rest of the
night.
She finally got out and wrapped herself in the large terry
cloth bathrobe. As she opened the door the bathroom, a
peculiar feeling over took Royal. The room became blurry.
She leaned against the post of the bed and looked over at
the oversized fireplace that Dmitry had lit directly across
from their bed. The wood crackled on the fire in the dark
room. Silence was all around her. She felt as though she
would faint. The heat from bathtub, the many glasses of
wine and the heat from the fireplace were trying to overtake
her.
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Shaking, she lay down in the bed and turned on the
plasma flat screen mounted above the fireplace. She
crawled to the middle of the king-sized bed and rubbed her
hands over face. She had to cool off. Maybe, she was just
overheated. Pulling the bulky robe off, she lay down naked,
feeling the room spin around her. Her eyes closed.

Downstairs on the other side of the mansion, seven
men sat in Dmitry‟s private study, near his fireplace in
leather seats and drinking out of crystal goblets. They
talked over each other, nearly arguing in Russian, back in
forth with one another, while Dmitry stood looking out the
window and listening. When he had heard enough, he
turned around and spoke quietly, calming the men with his
voice and his temperate demeanor.
"This issue is no longer up for discussion," Dmitry said
quietly.
"The men sent from New York have done their part.
It‟s time to send them back."
"I‟m not convinced," Dmitry argued.
"Our men can do the job better," one man argued back.
"Unfortunately, they don‟t even know the routes. These
other men have more control over our business than we do.
That is absurd."
"Your men?" Dmitry sighed. "I‟m not convinced that
all of your men are loyal. I know that these ten are. You
need to leave here and go and check your men, clean your
houses. Someone else is communicating with the police.
Until I know who is, I‟m going to see that these ten continue
to do as they‟re told."
"Our men have always been loyal," Vladimir, and older
man of the counsel said.
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"True Vladimir. Your man have. Until I am sure that
all men in this camp are as loyal as the ten that are out there
right now – none of your men will be allowed to know
anymore about the route. It‟s security for everyone. You
should be thankful. It‟s not like you don‟t still get your
cut."
The men were quiet. Again, another person was talking
to police. This had never happened in all the years that they
had been in Memphis. Now, at least two incidents had
happened in less than six months. They all looked around
at each other suspiciously.
"There is another thing to discuss," Vladimir continued.
Dmitry raised his eyebrow.
"We have the opportunity to move into larger investments
with local bank in the area. It is failing and needs
new investors. They have approached us with offer.
However..."
"The key word is failing, Vladimir. We don‟t want to put
money into a slow sinking ship."
"We can turn the bank around and take larger control of
the business in order to launder our money better."
Dmitry was silent for a minute.
"And they came to us with offer?" Dmitry asked curiously.
"With offer we cannot afford to ignore, Dmitry."
"Ignore it," Dmitry ordered. "If it sounds too good to
be true, it probably is. My sources have told me that the
FBI is investigating four banks here. They probably pushed
one of them to make offer to us in exchange for break for
leniency."
"Well, we‟ve discussed the need for new revenue
streams. I am just trying to find new ways."
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"And we will have our people meet with the accountants
to do just that, but they will not be revenue streams
with holes."
"I mean no disrespect, Dmitry," another man said.
"But you seem scared these days to take any risk that could
bring the men money. Has that woman clouded your
focus?"
The room became quiet. Dmitry looked at the man and
then at Anatoly. The veins in his neck started to show. He
scowled like a vicious dog. Even the tailored oxford and
sweater vest, the perfect hair cut and clean shaven face
could not conceal his savage instinct.
"There has only been one man in ten years who has
gone to jail under my watch. How many families can say
that? How many times have I protected your ass? I can‟t
even count anymore. You all are allowed to marry and have
children. You live in lavish homes and drive luxury cars no
different than my own and yet you feel as though you can
question me?"
"Not all of us," Vladimir said, pouring himself another
glass of scotch.
"My focus has never been clouded, but my patience is
starting to wear thin. If you get too damned comfortable
talking to me, brother, I may be forced to cut out your
tongue."
The men silenced. Sensing that Dmitry was near one of
his maniac-like episodes, they rested their collective case. It
was settled. The men Dmitry called on to make the serge
through Tennessee to secure their guns route would remain
until further notice. Everyone except Ivan. The man that
Dmitry wanted gone the most would be there indefinitely.
Ivan stood up with smirk and excused himself from the
group. Anatoly was standing at the door, as he tried to pass.
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"I need to use your restroom," he said, reaching for the
knob.
Anatoly looked over at Dmitry, who nodded to let him
pass.
"It‟s down the hall to the right," Anatoly said, opening
the door but still watching him carefully.
"You know, I‟d like to have a little butt boy like you to
do whatever I say one day," Ivan said sarcastically. "How
much do your services cost? Maybe I can write you check to
come work for me? Take for instance now; I need someone
to hold my big cock up for me in the restroom. You
think you could manage that? It‟s quite heavy."
"Down the hall, to the right," Anatoly repeated before
he closed the door in Ivan‟s face.
Ivan smirked and looked down the grand hallway illuminated
by glass lanterns. He walked down the herringbone
limestone floor, hearing his feet echo, looking at the
painted wood molding over sage-colored columns and the
Russian paintings.
A house fit for a king, he thought to himself as he went
inside the restroom. He closed the door and waited there
for a minute. Checking his nose hair in the mirror, he
turned on the faucet and let the water run. Then, he peeked
out of the bathroom to make sure that no one had followed
him. Slyly, he stepped out of the bathroom and closed the
door, making sure to leave the water running.
Quickly, Ivan headed up the back stairwell to the
second floor of the house, memorizing the layout of the
home. He checked each door, all left unlocked. Looking
in, making note of each room, he made his way down the
long hallway to the master bedroom.
When he arrived at it, he looked back. There was a giddy
thump of his dark heart. His long hand grasped the
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crystal doorknob and turned it slowly. He just wanted to
see where they slept, where his relentless brother rested.
Even lions had a den.
The door opened without a sound, and the light from
the hallway glittered in over Royal‟s naked body. He looked
on hungry. She was asleep, thus vulnerable. A devilish
smile crossed his lips. He opened the door a little more.
She was so long, so shapely. His heart began to race. If he
only had the time, he would do it now. Do her. But the
clock was ticking.
Crossing the threshold, he walked up closer to her. He
had to get a better look. Her body slumbered with her back
towards the door, still glistening with water. Her long hair
fanned the pillow. The brown tips of her swelled breasts sat
up invitingly.
He walked up to the bed, hidden in the shadows of the
room and stood over her, thinking of what he would do to
her soon. For a moment, he was tempted to run his finger
down the curve of her body, but he decided against it. If
she woke up and screamed, he would have to snap her neck.
That would ruin all of his plans. He finally looked over at
the clock and crept back out, making sure to close the door
behind him.
When Ivan made it near middle way of the hallway, he
saw Anatoly approaching. He stopped in his tracks and
spread his arms wide.
"This is very, very nice house my brother has, eh?"
Anatoly looked down the hallway at Royal‟s closed
door.
"What the fuck are you doing up here?" Anatoly asked,
reaching for his gun.
"Relax. I just wanted to see his property. You know,
he‟s never invited me over. Me. His own brother. It‟s no
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harm in looking right?" He walked towards Anatoly with a
cocky swagger, a smug grin on his face. "Looking at all that
he has acquired has made me realize that I must strive more
for more."
"Strive for getting your ass downstairs with the others,"
Anatoly said, motioning at the back stairwell.
As Ivan headed back to the men, Anatoly went to the
master bedroom door and opened it. He saw Royal lying
there – still breathing most importantly. Quickly, he closed
the door and shook his head in disgust. Ivan had seen her.
He was sure of it.