Chapter 24
The ride home from the FBI Detention Center was
quiet for both Royal and Dmitry. Just like five hours
before, the driver pulled into the front driveway of their
home and let them out. Only this time they both were very
somber.
Anatoly was waiting for them at the door, sitting on the
porch clipping his nails while his men patrolled the perimeter.
Royal walked up the stairs of the porch behind Dmitry
but did not speak. She simply brushed past Anatoly when
the door opened and ran upstairs. Dmitry watched her until
she was out of his sight, and then followed his son into the
study.
"Did you call the council?" Dmitry asked, exhausted.
"Dah. Каждое приходит."
"Make sure everyone is there, especially Max and Nicolai."
"Is it true?"
"Yes it‟s true."
The men went inside to talk, but Dmitry did not want to
be long. He had a feeling that Royal was on the verge of
breaking. She would not tell him what Agosto had said to
her in the room, or from what his lawyer had said to him,
why the Agosto was so close to her. Instead, she stared out
the window and wiped her teary eyes the entire ride.
"I‟ve taken care of everything that you‟ve asked." Anatoly
sat in the chair opposite of his father‟s desk and crossed
his hands. "So, what now?"
"We wait." Dmitry sat down in his chair.
"Is Royal alright?"
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It was odd to Dmitry that Anatoly would even ask
about her. He never did. He must have seen it too.
Dmitry rubbed his temples and tried to control the anger
boiling in his chest.
"No. They burst into the bathroom with her naked
pointing their guns and pulled her out."
"Naked?"
"No, but the whole time all I could think about was the
fact that they were up there with her naked. Did they even
give her enough privacy to get dressed or did they stare at
her?" He paused in fury.
"Relax, father. I‟m sure that they did not." Anatoly
tried to calm him. "You know what I find amazing?"
"What?"
"Your brother is plotting to kill you; you face many
charges that could have you caged in a jail for life like rat;
the council is at each other‟s throats; we‟re about to enter
into a blood bath, and you are concerned about who has
seen the woman upstairs naked."
Dmitry looked over at Anatoly and frowned.
"I don‟t see problem with this," Dmitry said softly. "If
it were not for the woman upstairs, I would have already
pulled the knife planted firmly in back out and gutted my
brother, Max and Nicolai along with anyone else who I
thought was a threat to me."
"Well now, I don‟t see a problem with that."
They both smiled at each other. Dmitry sat back and
sighed, releasing a little pressure.
After talking to his father, Anatoly left the house quickly,
and Dmitry headed upstairs to Royal. As he walked
down the corridor to his bedroom, a strange nervousness
overtook him, like when he was schoolboy. He frowned at
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the thought. Had this woman taken possession over him so
that he was actually nervous? Such a thing had never
happened in all of his adult life.
He walked into the bedroom to find her wildly packing
her things. She was trying to leave. She was still crying, but
now she was stuffing her Louis Vuitton bags to the brim
with clothes. Dmitry instantly noticed that she had taken
the engagement ring off and placed it on the night stand.
He walked over and picked up the ring, while she
stumped around him, cutting her eyes at him every few
minutes.
"Why is this off your hand?" he asked, sitting down on
her side of the bed. He smoothed the sheets under his palm.
"Because I accepted it under false pretenses," she
snapped, throwing more clothes on the bed.
"I don‟t think that you did."
Royal stopped. Her eyes were wide and wild. "Do you
know what I found out today? The man that I was going to
marry is murderer, pimp, mafia…psycho." She started to
pack again, violently pulling one of the bags to the bedroom
door.
Dmitry watched her as she struggled with the bag.
"I‟m not a pimp." His voice was low and calm. He
lacked defense.
"Then explain those poor, starving girls."
"They are Ivan‟s. He‟s trying to set me up."
"Oh, well that explains everything," she said sarcastically.
"And the dead woman with her throat slit? I suppose
that she was just part of the set up too?"
He was silent. Agosto had said too much.
"And the dead woman?" she asked again. That was the
one thing that she hadn‟t necessarily believed – the only
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thing. It was far too gruesome to be real. It had been the
worst of all the allegations.
She turned around petrified and looked at him. He was
still sitting with the ring in his hand looking completely
unmoved by the murder of an innocent woman. Yet, there
was arrogance about him now that indicated that he had
done it but that there was a reason behind it.
"Did you do it?" she asked in a near whisper.
"The question should be why…why did I do it?"
She dropped the bag and put her hands over her mouth.
"He said that I would end up like her. Her name was
Ari Medlov, you fucking bastard! She was cut from ear to
ear. How could you cut her throat like that? What kind of
monster are you really?" Tears ran down her cheeks.
"If you would just let me explain."
"What kind of a man kills a woman? You‟re such a hypocrite.
Always acting like you‟re above it all, when you‟re
right in the thick of it."
"That was a long time ago."
"But you did kill her?"
"Yes, I killed her. But the why…"
"Then there is no why! She was a woman, not a man!"
she exclaimed. "And you killed her. Now, I‟m supposed to
just forget it? Ignore it? Have you lost your rabid-ass
mind!"
Dmitry walked towards her, but she screamed and
darted out of the room. With no shoes on, she ran down
the hallway on the marble floors as fast as she could, away
from the bedroom. She looked back to see Dmitry come
running out of the room behind her.
She screamed again as she made her way to the stairwell.
Her heart pounded as she skipped every other step, trying
quickly to keep Dmitry from closing the gap with his long
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stride. She nearly fell at the bottom of the stairwell. Feeling
for her keys in her jeans, she headed towards the kitchen. If
she could get to the garage, she could get off the property,
even if she had to plow down the fence and the bodyguards.
"Someone help me!" she screamed.
She ran through the foyer to the kitchen and could hear
Dmitry gaining on her. Suddenly, she felt his arms reach
out for her and pull her down. She hit the floor fast, missing
a face-on collision with the marble only because instinctively
her hands slapped the ground first. She turned around
and started to kick him as hard as she could.
"Calm down, Royal," Dmitry ordered, trying to get her
to stop screaming.
"Get off of me," she screamed. "I hate you!"
She managed to squirm away from him and jump up.
She grabbed a knife off the island bar and pointed at him.
Her long hair was now down and flowing freely. Her shirt
was torn and her hands shaking.
"Stay away from me, Dmitry," she screamed, taking a
jab at him.
"Royal, what the fuck?" Dmitry‟s eyes were fixed on
the knife. "Put that thing away." His voice was still calm
and quiet. His continued sensibility frightened Royal
even more.
"I won't let you kill me!" She was frantic.
"What? I would never harm you." He raised his hands
so that she could see. "Look, baby. No guns, no knives.
Just me."
"I saw what you did to her," she said crying. "Why?"
"Because the bitch was trying to kill me. She was a ruthless
killer. She wasn‟t like you," he explained.
"You‟re a liar!" she backed away from him. "Stay away
from me, Dmitry." She held the knife sturdy. "I‟m warning
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you. I‟m getting out of this place right now, and you‟re not
going to stop me!"
Dmitry looked at the garage door. "I can‟t let you leave,
Royal. It‟s not safe."
"For who? You?"
"No, for you."
"Bullshit! I don‟t believe you. I don‟t believe anything
that you say." She shook her head and looked over at the
door. How she wanted to just get away.
Dmitry walked closer to her. "I would never hurt you.
You have to know that."
The bodyguards heard the commotion and entered the
kitchen behind Dmitry. They were astonished to find Royal
wielding a knife at their boss. They looked on confused.
Dmitry shook his head at them and waved them off.
"Leave," he said firmly. "Now!"
They walked out slowly looking both at Royal and each
other. Once they had gone, Dmitry walked closer to her.
She kept the knife pointed at him, backing herself into a
corner like a scared animal, desperate to defend herself.
Dmitry stretched his arm out to her and opened his
hand. In it was Royal‟s ring.
"I‟m the same man that gave you this ring. Please don‟t
let them tear us apart," he pleaded. "Baby, listen to me.
Listen. You‟re all that I have. I can‟t lose you. I can‟t live
without you."
"The man that gave me this ring is a monster," she said
crying. She wiped her eyes. "He‟s a liar! To think that I
actually trusted you."
Dmitry shook his head. It killed him to hear her say the
words. The knife would only quicken his suffering. He
walked all the way up to her with his dress shirt now torn
open revealing his rippled, tattooed chest.
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"If you believe that I would ever harm you, go ahead.
Kill me now," he said solemnly.
Royal cried, still holding the knife as he approached. He
did not realize just how frightened she was of him until he
got closer and realized that her entire body was shaking.
What did Agosto tell her? The truth, probably.
Dmitry‟s large body completely overshadowed Royal‟s,
dwarfing her existence in the corner. His size, his presence,
his past all scared Royal speechless. She thought of the
dead bloody woman and her heart nearly stopped. Revving
back, she launched the knife into his arm as he reached for
her.
"I told you to stay the fuck away from me!"
"Shit!" Dmitry said, grabbing his arm. The knife stuck
out of his bicep muscle.
Royal tried to run past him, but he snatched the knife
out of one arm and grabbed her with the other. Fighting,
she tried to kick away from him, but he picked her up off
the ground. He held her against her will close to him and
carried her back upstairs. She screamed as he did, begging
for help. Grabbing the staircase banister, she tried to hold
on, but he ripped her away from it.
The bodyguards stood at the foot of the stairwell downstairs
watching on as he took her upstairs passed them.
They were all unsure of what he would do to her considering
the blood pouring down his arm.
None of them had ever seen Dmitry interact with a
woman on this level. No one had ever seen him argue with
a woman ever.
Royal screamed as loud as she could and reached out
for the men to help her as Dmitry carried her against her
will, but they ignored her pleas. As much as they adored
her, they knew their orders and their places.
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If Dmitry chose to take her upstairs and kill her, it
would be none of their business. The most that they would
be responsible for was getting rid of the body.
Dmitry carried her crying and kicking to their bedroom
again and slammed the door. Setting her down on the
ground, he locked the door. As soon as her feet hit the
floor, she tried to run to the bathroom. He grabbed her
quickly. Upset and scared, she tried to slap him, but he
caught her arm.
"Stop it," he said sternly. "Stop it right now. I won‟t
have any more of this. You‟ve gone mad!" He released her.
"I‟ve gone mad?" Royal asked, pointing at herself. "I‟m
not the one who has…"
"Killed someone?" he interrupted. "I‟m not the only
murderer in this room – just the only one who does not
judge."
"I knew at some point you would use that against me."
There was silence. He looked down at his arm.
"You killed your own brother‟s wife? That explains
why he‟s so angry with you. Who would blame him?"
She could not let the subject go even if it meant her
own death. She was baffled by the fact that he could keep
something like that from her; deceive her with such disregard
for her feelings.
"I didn‟t want to do it," he said, hitting the wall. A
small painting fell on the ground and broke apart. Royal
jumped, startled by his sudden anger.
"I know that she was my brother‟s wife. That‟s what
hurts so bad. I had no choice." He tried to explain.
"Then why did you?"
"She came to my bed after I found out about one of
Ivan‟s many side deals, and I was tempted by her and angry
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with him. And so," he rubbed his forehead. "I slept with
her."
Royal eyed him as he continued. Even in the middle of
talking about a murder, she was mildly jealous of the
thought of him being with another woman.
"I had been with her all that night. Then while I was
sleeping in my own bed, she tries to kill me with a fucking
knife. While I was fighting with her, the knife cut her up
pretty bad. I finally put it to her neck thinking that it would
calm her down, but she was insane. She pushed against it
and spit at me as it sliced her neck."
"You expect me to believe that she helped you kill her."
"It‟s the truth. No one believes me. She was insane."
"So Ivan hates you for sleeping with his wife and then
killing her, and he‟s the bad guy?"
"Ivan is most definitely the bad guy. He sent her to my
bed to kill me. Evidently, his love didn‟t run too deep – not
for me – not for her." He confessed it all without any need
for probing. "My baby brother. The man that I had raised
from a baby. I went after him. I was going to end this
family feud for good, but while I was cutting his throat with
the same knife Ari had used on me, he swore to me that she
had acted alone.
"Normally, I would have finished the job just to be sure,
but he was my brother and if there was a slim possibility of
it being true, I could not risk it. So, even though I cut him, I
took him to hospital. They said that he would be okay.
And then I left and I came here. I could barely live with
what I had done, even though it wasn‟t my fault."
"Is that why I‟m in trouble? Why you wouldn‟t marry
me?"
"Yes. I am what I am. I held true to my code, because
it was all that I had before I had you."
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"Besides murders connected to your immediate family,
any others I should know about?"
Dmitry was silent and unwilling to answer that question.
So Royal continued. "And the girls aren‟t yours?"
"No. You know that my mother was prostitute. I
would never…"
"And the mafia?"
"In a matter of days, I will no longer be the head of the
Vory v Zakone here."
"Oh my God, Dmitry," Royal said, shaking her head.
"It‟s true? You‟re like some Don Corleone?"
"It‟s overblown, trust me."
Royal was completely flabbergasted, looking at him
standing by the door with blood dripping down his arm and
ruining the carpet. She had unknowingly hooked up with
one of the largest organized crime bosses in the United
States. What an idiot, she thought to herself.
Dmitry cleared his throat and shifted a little, trying to
ignore the pain. He wanted her to say something, anything
that would let him know that she would stay. He raised his
eyebrow and sighed.
"I don‟t want you to leave." His voice was just above a
whisper.
"At least you know what you want," Royal crossed her
arms. "You‟ve been lying to me for months now, Dmitry.
Why should I stay? I don‟t even know who you really are."
"I never lied to you," he growled.
"Bullshit. You lied!" Royal snapped.
"You‟ll never know everything about me, Royal. It
doesn‟t work that way."
"If it can‟t work that way, then I don‟t want to be here."
"I‟m not a child. I don‟t do ultimatums. You won‟t be
able to stomp your feet and get your way. I know that I
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have spoiled you, but there has to be still some resemblance
of common sense inside of your head. Look at the life you
lead. Go on, look around." His voice rose. "What did you
think that I did for a living?"
"What you told me that you did! I trusted you enough
to believe your lies," Royal responded, livid.
"I never lied to you."
"Fuck you," Royal said, grabbing her purse. Tears
started to form at the corners of her eyes again. "You‟re so
full of it. I don‟t have to stay here and take this."
"You‟re not leaving until I‟m finished!" Dmitry stood in
front of the door. He breathed heavily and grabbed his
arm. "Then…go if you must," he shook his head.
His words deflated her. She did not want to go, but she
did want the truth, to be able to trust him.
"My life is very complicated, and I don‟t ever plan to tell
everything that I‟ve done. I will not confess my sins at your
feet. Neither you nor I could take it." His eyes watered
from the pain. "But I will tell you that I love you, and since
the day that you said that you‟d be mine; I‟ve made plans to
spend a quiet, safe life with you. It‟s just going to take time.
I am what I am, Royal. I‟ve kept that away from you for
your own good. My kindness to you has been genuine; my
love for you has been the same, but there is another side of
me."
"Which side reigns supreme?"
"My desire to be rid of this, to live a life with you."
"Can you just walk away from all of this?"
"Yes. It‟s just going to take time."
"How much time, Dmitry? Am I going to have to wait
until you‟re seventy to really have you? I won‟t kiss the ring,
man. I didn‟t sign up for this." She turned away.
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Dmitry tamped his anger. "When have I ever asked you
to wait on me to do anything? I asked you to marry me,
because I want to be with you. But it‟s good really that you
know now. You have sometime to truly make your decision
– now that you know. I just want to ensure that my son is
left a legacy that is truly worth something regardless of your
decision. Believe it or not, other people‟s lives are at stake
here."
"You want Anatoly to live like this?" she asked angrily,
turning back around.
"What I want is not important. The point is that he‟s
doing it. He‟s a man, and I have to make sure that he is
taken care of before I go. I owe him that."
"How do I know that you won‟t go back to living the
way that you did before?" She sobbed. "It‟s not like I
would ever really know. I wouldn‟t know now if the FBI
hadn‟t held me at gun point in the," she kicked the side of
the bed in frustration. "…freaking tub. I had lasers on my
body for no damned reason at all, like I was a criminal!"
"I give you my word, woman." He walked to her slowly.
"Give me a chance to clean things up. All I need is a
little time, and we can leave. You told me that you wanted
to go to Prague, eh. Remember? Well, let‟s go. Let‟s open a
restaurant and boutique on a cobblestone street in Prague
and grow old together chasing our little children around."
The idea rang in her ears. Happiness. A new start.
"Don‟t sell me lies, Dmitry. I can‟t take it," she cried, as
he walked closer. She held herself and let the tears fall
down her face. "I can‟t take it. Damn you."
"I know, baby. I would never do that to you." He
walked up to her and held her close. Kissing the top of her
head, he whispered. "I love you. I love you. I love you."
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She cried as she buried her face in his large chest. In
pain, he wrapped his arms around her.
"I‟m sorry," he whispered. "For everything that I did,
I‟m sorry."
Royal wiped her face off and tried to stop crying after a
minute. Breaking his embrace, she walked to the door and
opened it.
"Get out," she said, pointing out the door.
"My first night on the couch?" Dmitry asked.
"You‟ve got like six other bedrooms in this house. I‟m
sure you‟ll fit in one."
Dmitry walked to the door where she stood and kissed
her on the forehead one more time. "So, you‟ll stay?"
"I need to think about it," she said, looking up at him.
"Dah, that‟s fair. You think. I‟ll go stitch up my arm."
Dmitry tried to be understanding of everything that she had
gone through, plus he knew that she would forgive him. If
he didn‟t know her that well by now, she would have not
been in his home. "You want me to have maid come up
and unpack for you?"
"No, I‟m not sure that there will be a need to," she said,
closing the door behind her.
While trying to tend to his arm, Dmitry drank a six pack
of Foster‟s beer and looked out of the window above the
sink at the backyard. Anatoly walked back into the kitchen
from the garage and saw his father over the faucet with
tweezers, scissors and thread. He sat his keys on the
counter and walked over.
"What happened to you?" he asked unmoved.
"Royal," he answered, pulling the thread through his
flesh.
He smacked on his gum. "She stab you?"
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"Dah,"
"Why?"
"She‟s woman," Dmitry groaned, motioning for Anatoly
to give him the antiseptic.
"She found out who you were, didn‟t she?"
"Dah," Dmitry said, pouring the chemical over his
wound.
"Well then, you should be glad that she didn‟t shoot
you." Anatoly walked over to the refrigerator and opened
the door, chuckling.
Dmitry shook his head. Anatoly did not know the first
thing about love. "She‟s a good girl. She was just very
afraid. I can‟t say that I don‟t blame her," he explained to
his son.
Anatoly sifted through the food to find a container of
chilled oysters. Grabbing the small bowl, he closed the
door and turned around to look at his father. "Are you sure
that you‟re ready to do this? To give all of this up for
woman who is… not even Russian?"
"You look around and see all these things. I look
around and see a large fortress, keeping the whole world
out. I don‟t want to live like this anymore. And yes, I know
that she‟s a black woman. I‟ve seen more of her than you
have. I know. I don‟t care about that. I want woman who
is going to stand by me, even when it‟s in her best interest
to run. Let‟s not ever forget where we are from, boy. From
the streets, lower even, from the gutters of the streets. We
have no room to pass judgment on anyone, especially good
people."
"So you‟re saying that she‟s worth it?"Anatoly was still
not completely convinced. He cracked at his father.
Dmitry shook his head. "Yes, so get busy. I want this
transition to happen now."
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"The meeting is scheduled for tomorrow. We make the
big announcement then."
"What time tomorrow."
"Six on the dot." Anatoly tapped his watch and left the
room with his bowl of oysters, headed to the entertainment
room to watch television.