Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen by Nelson, S. (classic reads .txt) 📕

eyed her as she went over and looked into the cloth bags to pull out the produce.

"I figured you might be hungry," he explained, pointing at the bags.

"I am. Thanks," she said, sorting through the food.

"Did you call anyone, email anyone?"

"No."

"I don't suppose that you would tell me if you did."

She sighed and leaned against the kitchen table. "No, I don't think that I would."

Anatoly looked down and smirked. "I see that you're still a smart ass."

"Sorry." She swallowed hard, remembering the gun shots from the night before. "You have that effect on me. I don't know. You make me crazy."

He smiled. "I have the feeling that you were crazy well before you met me."

"You might be right."

Anatoly remembered himself.

"I didn't come here to make unneeded conversation with you." His jaw clenched. "I told you that you'd be working for me, and I need to give you instructions for your first assignment."

"You make it sound like mission impossible."

Victoria walked over and poured herself a cup of coffee.

Anatoly noticed that she was wearing one of his dress shirts and a pair of his boxers. He could see the definition in her muscular legs and her perfectly smooth dark skin better now. Looking up at her face, he tried to focus on his thoughts.

"Want some coffee?" her eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.

"I don't drink coffee." He looked away again.

"Oooookay." She went back over to the kitchen table and sat down. "Do I need a pen and pad or something?"

"Never write down anything that I don't tell you to. You have to learn how to remember."

Victoria sighed. "Alright." She took a sip of her coffee and eyed him.

Anatoly didn't walk over to her. He preferred the space.

"You are going to fly to Sochi, Russia tomorrow night to purchase one piece of very important, very expensive art under an assumed name with a designated account. You following me?"

"Yeah, that's where the Olympics are taking place right?"

"Yes, but you won't be there for that. You're going to an art show, and then you're going to fly back here."

"Okay. What is this important piece of art?"

"It's by an up and coming artist from Moscow named Phitznas. The piece is a large gold-plated bust with emeralds, diamonds… all sorts of precious stones. There will be several bidders, but your bid will be the highest."

"How much?"

"$550 million."

Victoria choked on her coffee and looked up. While she wasn't familiar with the art world, the thought of spending that much money on one piece blew her mind.

Anatoly rolled his eyes. "Just make the bid under the name that I give you. Our broker will accompany you. You won't have any problems with the transaction. They will take you to the back of the studio to finish the purchase. After that, you will get in the car and be immediately escorted out of the country."

"Is that it?"

"For now. Now, get dressed. I need to go over with you how to make bid, pay and what all is expected of you, and I can't do that with you nearly naked."

Victoria looked down at her lack of clothes and smiled.

Chapter 15

Dmitry, Royal and Anya piled into the family Land Rover and headed into the city for a day of work. It had been months since they had done so, and while the task was simple enough, it brought all of them great joy. They were a family again with things to do and places to go.

Royal sat in the passenger seat going through her to-do list while Dmitry listened to talk radio and drove. Anya watched a movie on the small screen attached to her mothers chair and brushed her dolls hair.

"Will you have lunch with me today?" Dmitry asked.

"Of course," Royal looked up at him with a bright glow on her face. "Anya and I will come over at about noon."

"Good," he rubbed his blonde beard. His mind was wrapped around his secret, boiling inside of him like a guilty stew. He looked over at her, unsuspecting and trusting again and felt a twinge in his stomach. There was nothing worse than deceit.

"Baby, I… " his voice dragged.

"Daddy, will you fix me the bow tie pasta for lunch like on the commercial?" Anya asked, interrupting Dmitry.

"That's Italian food, sweetheart," he said, losing his nerve.

"Well, will you fix it?" her voice was high and eager.

"Yes. I'll send out for it this morning."

"Thanks, Daddy."

Royal looked over at him and put down her notepad. "Is something wrong?" She could see the frown he was trying desperately to hide.

He glanced over at her for a moment and took a deep breath. "No," he said, scooting over in his seat farther away. "Everything is fine. Why do you ask?"

"You have that look on your face."

"What look?"

"Like… I don't know… something's wrong."

Dmitry paused. He could tell her now and watch Royal's new found glow diminish back into a jaded darkness. He could watch her build the wall again—so tall and so thick that he would never be able to break it down, or he could just finish this last deal and move on with their lives.

He smiled wide and bright, his dimples deepened and his bright blue eyes sparkled. "Things couldn't be better, really."

"Sure?"

"Da."

"Okay. I must be losing my women's intuition." Royal smiled and picked her notepad back up.

I must be crazy, Dmitry thought to himself as he focused on the road.

* * *

News from Prague indicated that Anatoly had arrived on yesterday and the Medlov Chateau was located right outside the city. As soon as Dorian received the information, he packed a bag and hopped a private jet to the Czech. He couldn't trust anyone else to do this type