Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen (3 page)

"Yes, Madame," the maid said, standing up straighter.

Brigitte walked curiously to the door opening and waited with her hands clasped together in front of her.

Mistress Medlov was a strange woman. Her eyes were cold, her stare blank, her words laced with vicious meaning. One never knew what to expect from her. She was mostly tongue and cheek with all her statements, but if one were to look very, very carefully, they could see that once she had to have been a good woman. Why else would a man as gracious as Master Medlov have married her, besides her stunning beauty and her exotic dark features?

In Prague, her beauty stuck out everywhere that she went. She was the
la belle femme de couleur
. The mistress dressed in very expensive clothes and jewelry and stomped around town chauffeured in the most luxurious cars. She had a strange American accent.
Southern
is what Dmitry had once called it. And all of the officials, politicians and businessmen who visited the Medlov chateau, swooned over her, even though she treated them callously also.

But there was something else. All the help talked about it. Royal had presence, not stage presence, a dark, mischievous presence like she was capable of just about anything. She was far from helpless, very quick and too observant. Some said she was even more dangerous than Master Medlov.

She stared at the back of her lady's wild hair now as Royal fumbled around, probably looking for more valium.

"
Oui
, it is very hard for everyone, but… " she finally continued the conversation, realizing that she had lost herself for a moment in thought.

"Not everyone," Royal corrected. A smile curved her pensive lips. Standing up with the necklace, she walked over to the Brigitte and grabbed her hand. "You are lucky to have a mother to care for, whether she is dying of cancer or not. You'll always have good memories. Treasure them."

"
Oui
," the maid agreed. "I am very blessed."

"Take this home with you today. Pawn it and pay for whatever your mother needs. Quit your other job and go home to spend more time with her before she's dead, because she will die. If the treatments aren't working, there's not a damned thing that you can do about it. Meanwhile, I'll talk to your gracious boss, Dmitry, about giving you a
meaningful
raise."

"But Madame… I can't. This necklace costs more than I make in a year."

Royal gripped the woman's hand firmly. "Then be smart, Briggy. Don't tell anyone that I've given it to you."

Brigitte fought tears. She was moved by the icy woman's kind gesture. Mistress Medlov was like that though. Completely unreadable.

"If you have a problem at the local jewelers, call me. No one will believe that you didn't steal it," Royal looked away from Brigitte, who wiped her tears quickly.

"
Merci
," the woman said softly.

"Don't mention it," Royal said curtly.

Like wind chimes on a gusty spring afternoon, Anya's voice carried as she called for her mother. Royal looked away from Brigitte to her beautiful daughter wide-eyed and smiling from ear to ear as she came running as fast as she could through the bedroom doors. Suddenly, Royal lit up.

"Ahh, there she is."

Royal caught her in her arms and picked her up to hold her close to her bosom. Rubbing through her long, black silky hair, she kissed her daughters forehead and sighed.

"Mommy, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, baby. What are you up to?"

"I had breakfast with Daddy."

"You slept in your room last night. I'm very proud of you, princess."

"I cheated, Mommy. Daddy slept with me."

Royal smiled and nodded to Brigitte to leave her alone to spend time with her one and only purpose, Anya.

"Anatoly is here," Anya tattled. "He and Daddy are downstairs in the… the… study. They told me I had to leave."

"Really," Royal said curiously. "What were they talking about? Can you remember?" She pulled the girl closer.

"Anatoly said that he had a problem that only Daddy could fix."

"Did he?" Royal placed her daughter on the disheveled bed. "And what did Daddy say?"

"He said I had to run along. Then he closed the big doors and locked me out." Anya pouted. "Why did he lock me out, Mommy?"

"Because he's up to something, baby," Royal took off her nightgown and threw it on the bed. She was going to get down to the bottom of this right now.

"Let mommy get dressed, and I'll come downstairs with you, so we can say hello to your long lost brother."

Immaculately dressed, Royal arrived downstairs an hour later to have her breakfast in the great room with her bodyguard Davyd, while Anya played outside on the patio with her puppy.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse. Where the sun peaked out of the clouds only a half an hour before, now thick dark clouds rolled through the green plush countryside, promising rain and dreariness for the remainder of the day.

Dmitry's decision to take her half way across the world to a place that she had never seen had turned out to be a bad idea in her opinion. However, considering that to the only world that she had ever known, she was dead, her options were limited.

Royal sipped her coffee slowly and stared at the newspaper. Her thoughts multiplied by the second. What was that husband of hers up to?

Davyd watched Royal carefully as he sipped his own coffee and monitored Anya as she played. Royal was more than not herself today. Something else was going on. He put down his coffee and sighed. His blue eyes locked on her. How long would it take for her to tell him? He was her confidant, more so even than Dmitry. Being that, it frustrated him when she didn't just say what was on her mind, when she made him figure it out.

"Do I have to ask?" he uttered finally under his breath to make sure that no one would hear him.

"Anatoly is here," Royal said, smacking her lips together. "You know what that means."

"He wants to see his family," Davyd looked over at Anya. "You know how crazy he is about his little sister."

"Uh huh," Royal scoffed. "His little princess overheard him say that he needed his fathers help."

"You're always jumping to conclusions."

"Well see, won't we?"

"You should be focused on other things, Royal. Today, Anya's new teacher arrives. Dmitry said that she came highly recommended. Still, she'll be living in your home and helping rear your child. And that is much more important than what Anatoly wants with his own father."

"Mind your tongue, old man. I know my priorities."

"Mind your tongue and your attitude,
Mistress Medlov
. Sometimes, I think that you were born on wrong side of bed. And don't think that I don't know you slipped drink before coming downstairs. I can smell it underneath all that perfume."

Royal cut her eyes at him but did not respond. Davyd had become something of a vicar to her.

After the attack, he had been assigned to Royal day-in and day-out. And because of their time together, they had become family. She regarded his knowledge of the Vory, which he secretly shared with her, his familiarity with Prague and his experience with Dmitry with extreme reverence. He was like the father that she had never had at thirty-two years her elder and because of this allowed him to freely share his opinions.

Plus, she didn't want him to know that his scathing remark had humbled her… for the moment.

"I see that you are finally awake," Dmitry said, walking into the room with his son closely following. "Did you get some sleep?"

"As much as to be expected," she said, picking her coffee cup back up and holding it close to her lips. She felt Davyd's foot kick her. "I slept reasonably well, dear," she retracted.

"Good." Leaning over, Dmitry kissed her head. "Where's Anya?"

"Right outside playing with her puppy."

"So she liked it?" Anatoly asked. He had given her a chocolate lab for her birthday only a few weeks ago. He stood in the corner by the window with his arms crossed looking out at Anya.

"She loves it," Royal smiled. "What brings you back to Prague so quickly? Is there trouble in paradise, Anatoly?"

Anatoly looked up at Dmitry and raised his brow. "Can't I just come and visit?" There was an incredibly mischievous smile on his face.

"You don't
just
do anything," Royal said quickly. She eyed Dmitry as he sat down across from her. "So, what is going on? Her voice lowered. Something deep in her stomach tugged at her –something was wrong.

"If you must know, Anatoly is thinking of selling Dmitry's Closet. It's not bringing in nearly the revenue it did before," Dmitry responded, picking up the discarded newspaper.

Davyd sat quietly observing the two. He hoped that Royal would behave.

"Are the people of Memphis no longer fascinated with the tourist attraction that it's come to be?" Royal huffed sarcastically. "Oh well. It couldn't last forever." She didn't lead on to her thinking more was involved.

"You know, you should spend more time down at your
new
shop," Dmitry suggested to Royal. "It will give you something to do, maybe make you happier."

"And what makes you think that I'm not happy?" she bit out in a growl.

Anatoly laughed, and then turned away from the troubled couple. Even Davyd almost laughed. Royal was like a constant thorn in her husband's side, but still Dmitry did not waiver in his attention to her.

Anatoly found the cat and mouse game boring and overly dramatic. However, if his father was happy in his torture, then so was he.

Dmitry sighed and changed the subject. "The teacher will be here today. Very soon in fact," he looked down at his Rolex. "I was hoping since you did not take part in interview process that you would
at least
talk to her today, lay out ground rules of house and give her instruction as to what you want her to do with Anya."

"That's simple. I want her to go back to where she came from. I can teach my own daughter. I don't need some
nanny
coming in here like I'm incompetent."

"She's only here to help. And no one thinks that you're incompetent. You said yourself you wanted more time to focus on you, more time to focus on the boutique… "

"She's not welcome here as far as I'm concerned. But since you have already sent for her, I'll find something for her to do. After I teach Anya myself then she can tutor her as a follow up… or whatever." She rolled her eyes again, knowing that the entire room was now focused on her. Trying to justify her position, she tried to stop her whining. "This is just stupid. I mean, just because everyone else has a teacher doesn't mean we have to. Were not like everyone else," she reminded them all.

The butler, Stepan, walked into the great room and interrupted the would-be argument.

Dmitry took his eyes off his visibly disturbed wife and looked up at him. He waved the butler to come closer.

"Ms. Victoria Jackson has arrived, sir. Should I have her come in here, or would you like to talk with her in the family room?"

"The family room," Royal interjected. She huffed. Why didn't anyone understand that she didn't want some woman in her home? Who in their right mind would want that?

"Yes, ma'am," Stepan turned and walked out.

"
Beeeeehave
, Royal," Dmitry ordered. He clinched his jaw.

"You behave," she hissed.

Cutting his eyes at her, he stood up from the table and went to the large glass double doors. He didn't want to admit it, but suddenly he felt the same apprehension as his ever-unhappy wife. Calling for Anya, he finally shut out his concern as his little girl scurried in with her puppy.

"The dog doesn't come inside," Royal ordered. "I've told you that a thousand times." Her tongue was sharp.

"Yes, mama," Anya pushed her puppy out of the door quickly. "Go on, Bubbles."

"Is that what you named him?" Anatoly asked her as he picked her up to carry her to the family room.

"Yes, his name is
Mr.
Bubbles, because Mommy said everyone has to have a title." Anya wrapped her small arms around her brother and kissed his face.

"She called one of the gardeners by his first name the other day. And I was explaining to her that just because he works for us doesn't mean that he doesn't deserve respect. That is why we use titles."

No one could deny Royal's logic or how kind she was to everyone
outside
of the family at the chateau.

"Where are you going?" Royal asked Anatoly as he followed Dmitry.

"With you," he chuckled. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"You're not helping," Dmitry warned Anatoly without looking back as he slipped on his suit jacket.

Neither are you
, Anatoly thought to himself. Was he the only one who thought that this was a bad idea?

* * *

As her mystery guest waited, Royal stormed through the family rooms large oak double doors with her entourage of Dmitry, Anatoly, Anya and Davyd in tow.

Dressed to kill in a black knee-length leather skirt that narrowed her bow hips, a wide black leather belt that accentuated her voluptuous curves, black leather boots that stopped mid-calf and gave her several inches of height, and black cashmere turtleneck that only enhanced her large breasts, Royal stopped at the top of the short stairs that led down the main level of the room to see a woman standing in the middle of the floor.

The tall teacher stopped and turned, transfixed by the stately mistress of the house. Although Dmitry had previously warned that his wife was a bit stoic in the interview, his explanation had not done justice to the perfect beauty, who seemed at first sight to be unwelcoming.

Dmitry also had not mentioned that his wife was black or at least mixed. From first sight, Mistress Medlov's features were so exotic it was hard to pinpoint exactly what she was, but there was evident melanin that suggested African heritage, and her body was definitely sister-like with busty curves and a mean diva walk.

"Ahh, you must be Victoria," Royal said with a sly grin. She knew Dmitry was watching her, praying for her not to misbehave and send this wench flying out of the front door. It was a tall order, but she tried hard to comply.