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

than torturous. When he arrived in Prague, he was severely distressed, though he didn't know why. He couldn't move fast enough. He had left all of his clothes back in Sochi along with his Rolex and his shoes in a fit of a rush.

When the jet landed, he was on the helicopter in minutes and only a short distance away from his wife. He dialed Davyd but did not get an answer. Evidently he was asleep. He finally called the house phone. Surprisingly, Victoria answered.

"Victoria!" Dmitry sat up.

"Yes," Victoria said softly.

"Is… is Royal… I mean, is my wife alright?"

"Yeah. She went to bed nearly an hour ago. I was just downstairs, and I heard the phone ring. I hope you don't mind me answering it."

"No, of course not. Where is Davyd?"

"I think he's asleep. He checked everything right after Royal went up to her room."

"Well, I am not far from home. Can you let her know that I'm on my way, and I look a little different? I don't want to scare her."

"Scare her?"

"Da Da. Tell her I don't quite look myself. She won't answer her phone, but she needs to know before I get there. I don't want to startle her."

"Oh… okay." Victoria rolled her eyes. He treated Mrs. Medlov like she was such big shit. Who cared what he looked like? "If you don't mind, I'll run upstairs to the second floor and tell her now," she said.

"That would be wonderful," Dmitry sat back more relaxed. "I'll be home very soon."

"Good," Victoria said. Counting on it, she thought to herself as she hung up the phone.

Instead of going to tell Royal, she sprayed her perfume on and made sure that her hair was perfect. She had waited for Davyd to go to bed, waited for the help to retire, waited for Dmitry to come home. If she was going to have a chance with him, it would have to be tonight. Mrs. Medlov, after all, had plans of getting rid of her first thing in the morning.

Minutes later, the helicopter landed in the courtyard, blowing debris around in twisters of wind as hit the ground with lights shining right into the chateau. Dmitry stepped out of the helicopter with his laptop and saw Royal's window open. She was standing in it, nearly naked. He looked up at her curiously and then ran to the front door.

Royal closed the curtain as the helicopter took off. She knew it. Ivan wasn't dead. Tears ran down her eyes. Shaking, she ran out of her room as fast as she could, still half-dressed, down the hall to her daughters room. She burst through the door and picked her sleeping daughter up.

"Mommy?" Anya asked afraid as she clutched her mother's neck.

"We have to go, baby," Royal whispered, still shaking. "Mommy has to get you to safety."

Running with her daughter in her arms, she sprinted to Anatoly's room and pulled open the dresser drawers. Throwing clothes, she finally pulled out a large gun and cocked it.

"Stay here," Royal ordered, opening up Anatoly's closet. "Hide, baby, until I come back for you." Tears ran down her face. She bent down to her crying child and kissed her red cheeks. "I love you." Pushing her daughter into the closet, she locked it behind her and headed back out of the room with the gun in her hand.

Dmitry was confused and alarmed by the look of his wife. Victoria opened the large doors to greet him, but he whisked past her and ran up the long stairway. His feet could barely keep up with his speed.

"Royal!" he shouted as he arrived on the second floor.

He looked down the long, dark corridor and saw her coming towards him. Her silhouette was beautiful. Long, dark hair wrapped around her nearly naked body. In a pair of stilettos and a black silk slip, she raised what appeared to be a gun as she ran towards him.

He squinted and then hit the light switch to see the gun raised.

"Royal!" he shouted as he ducked.

Bullets whizzed past him. He took cover in the doorway.

"Ivan, you son of bitch! I knew it! Where is my husband?" she screamed, walking fast towards him. "If you killed him!"

"Baby, it's me!" Dmitry said as he saw Davyd come running up the stairs with guns in both hands. He signaled him not to shoot.

"Dmitry?" he said, making his way to his boss. He barely missed being shot as he did.

"Royal has gone mad," Dmitry said, reaching into his holster and pulling out his gun.

"Are you going to shoot her?" Davyd asked mortified.

"No! I want to make sure that she knows I'm not armed."

"Come out, you coward!" she ordered, shooting and blowing out a chunk of the wall. "You came here for me and my baby? I'm going to kill you myself! This time I'll know for sure that you're dead!" She shot again.

"Fuck," Dmitry said ducking. "Royal it's me. I… I changed my hair color. I wanted to try something new for you. It was way to make you stop always thinking of Ivan and maybe think of Anya more as mine." It was amazing what kind of lies he could come up with at gun point.

He and Davyd both heard the shots getting closer.

"Maybe she'll run out of bullets," Davyd hoped.

They heard her duck behind a door and reload. The magazine hit the floor as she shoved another inside the gun.

"Not a chance," Dmitry said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, he handed Davyd the gun and shook his head. "Don't shoot her, no matter what," he said solemnly.

"You can't go out there," Davyd said, holding him back.

"I have to," Dmitry growled, pulling away his hand. "I have to. It's my