Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen Nelson, S. (best finance books of all time TXT) 📖

happy. And please, call me Dmitry." He slipped his hands in his pockets and tried not to look her way.

"Alright," she blushed again. Even though it was apparent that he had just worked out, his cologne floated down to her nose. She took in a deep breath and changed the subject. "I hope that Mrs. Medlov has had enjoyed me being here as well."

Dmitry smirked and looked up at the vaulted ceiling. "I'm sure she has," he said, biting his lip as he lied. "Mrs. Medlov has been under a lot of stress, so you'll have to excuse her if she's ever short with you."

"Oh, she's always really nice." Lie. "Being the overseer of a place like this is a big chore in itself, I imagine. But she does a very good job."

Victoria knew that giving his wife compliments would only make him more comfortable to be around her. And she needed him to relax in order for her plan to work. He was always so tense and alert. Let your guard down, she begged inwardly.

"Umm, she does work hard," Dmitry agreed. His mind was already back on his wife at just the mention of her name. "When we came to Prague, this chateau was abandoned, and we were actually living in the city in a new loft that had recently been built. But Royal wanted to move to the countryside and raise Anya out here, where things are more peaceful. So, I bought this chateau from a friend, and she immediately started to renovate it. She's been working hard in it ever since."

"Well, it's very impressive." Victoria smirked to herself. She would have never guessed that woman ever raised finger to do anything except give someone an order.

There was silence as they walked beside each other. Dmitry thought again of Royal and her hard work, while Victoria relished in being near him.

"What… um, if you don't mind me asking, what is Mrs. Medlov's first name?"

Dmitry looked over at her and paused. "Chloe," he said finally. "But I am sure that she would prefer Mistress Medlov."

"Oh, I sort of figured that. I just wondered. No one calls her by her first name here. I've never even really heard you say it."

Dmitry gave no explanation.

They stopped at the door of the great room, and Victoria turned and looked up at him.

"Sure you don't want to have lunch with us? Were having peanut butter and jelly," she asked, fluttering her eyebrows. She moved in a little closer but not close enough to be considered intimate. She looked at his chest, wondering what it must feel like to touch it, to touch him.

"As much as I love peanut butter and jelly, I better pass," he said, holding on to the towel around his neck.

"Going once, going twice… "

"I think that he said no," Royal said, walking out of the room with a tray clinched in her hands. Eyebrows spiked, she peered at the woman.

Victoria jumped, startled at her presence. The maid normally delivered lunch, but it appeared that the mistress of the house had chosen to serve her daughter today.

In a pair of dirty jeans, a grey flannel shirt and work boots, Royal walked out into the hallway and roughly passed the silver serving tray to Victoria.

"Mrs. Medlov, I thought that you were out in your garden. I would have invited you as well," Victoria said quickly.

"Was in the garden," Royal sneered. "I figured that I would fix you both lunch to thank you for a job well done. So, you had better go enjoy it before it gets cold," she ordered, turning her stare to Dmitry.

"Thank you, Mrs. Medlov," Victoria said, looking at Dmitry one last time. Neither Dmitry nor Mistress Medlov was paying attention to her at that point, so she quickly went inside to join Anya.

Dmitry looked his wife up and down. She was dirty from work, angry from jealousy and her nipples had hardened through her shirt. A sly grin crossed his face.

"You look great," he said, licking his lips. His eyes were hooded now, focused in on her small waist. His mouth watered.

"You look like you're up to something," she said, turning to go up to her room.

"Up to what?" he asked behind her.

"Flirting with the help," she bit out.

Dmitry walked behind her, following her as she swayed. "Please. What do I want with her, when I have you?"

"Don't blow smoke up my ass, Dmitry," Royal snapped.

Dmitry laughed. "I'm not blowing smoke up your ass," he said, catching up with her. He grabbed her arm and turned her around. "Wait. Slow down, now. I want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About us."

Royal folded her arms. "What about us, Dmitry? What is it that I've done wrong now?" He didn't know how sensitive she was about doing wrong in his eyes. She hid it successfully with venom, but inside all she ever wanted was to please him.

"You know what I want to talk to you about." He rubbed her arms. "You're getting more and more distant. What is this about? Is it me?"

"I'm not getting distant. I've been busy." Trying to please you, she thought inwardly. Look at this place. Is it not immaculate? All that I do for you… she cut her thoughts off.

"Have you been going to therapy?" Dmitry could see anguish in her tired eyes.

"Are we going to go through that again?" she huffed. "No. I haven't been going. I don't need to go. I just need to get past it, and going and talking about it every week doesn't help."

"Have the nightmares gone away, then?"

"You know that they haven't." She had just had one the night before.

"Exactly. This is why you need to go."

Royal rolled her eyes. "I don't want to talk about this now."

"Then