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over to the door. He opened it just a little and looked down. It was Anatoly.

"Papa. I just got home. Davyd told me what happened to Royal and Anya. Is Royal alright?"

Dmitry looked back at Royal, who was sitting up in the bed. "It's Anatoly," he said, calming her. "I'll be back."

Grabbing the robe off the ground, he wrapped it around his body and stepped outside. His son looked up at him angrily awaiting an explanation on what had happened to Anya.

"Everyone is fine, Anatoly," Dmitry assured as he walked with him down the hallway.

"Well, what did you do to the bitch?" Anatoly asked fuming.

"I wanted to do something, but Royal insisted that she just leave." Even Dmitry was dumbfounded. "Her father will surely be put off the payroll, and I'll give her a scathing report."

"Report? You've gone soft," Anatoly snapped. "Well, what would you have me to do, oh great little one?" Dmitry clenched his jaw.

"Nothing," he shook his head and remembered his place. "I came home to tell you about deal. I got call this morning like you said I would. I headed here straight afterwards." Dmitry smiled. He was proud of his son. "Good. Now you just wait for instruction. I assume you have plan for transportation, warehousing and distribution of all these weapons?"

"Da, but I won't need it for long. I have struck deal with a Jewish group outside of Palestine. Most of them are headed straight there as soon as order is final."

"You are getting around, aren't you?"

"I told you that I'd make you proud."

"And you have," he said, opening Anya's door as they stopped. He looked in quickly on his little one. Her curtains had been drawn, and she slept peacefully in her bed with her bunny rabbit. The sight calmed his spirits. He was forced to smile. Anatoly stuck his head in also. He scanned the room and sighed. He didn't know what he would do if something ever happened to Anya. Neither of them did. She was their solace. They both closed the door and continued downstairs without speaking anymore about her.

"Are you going to change to clothes?" Anatoly asked.

"Da, I just needed to get Royal some breakfast and tell the cook to make sure that I have what I need to fix meal for Anya before she wakes up."

"You cooking borscht?" Anatoly asked.

"Yes."

"Fix enough for me." His eyes were bright.

"I cook for entire family today, as sort of a celebration."

"Of what?"

"Reconciliation," Dmitry joked.

Anatoly smirked. "It sounds odd coming from a man who can literally have any woman that he wants or doesn’t want. Davyd told me what happened last night between you and Victoria. I told you that you couldn't trust her."

"You did. And I didn't trust her. I ignored her, which is just as bad, I suppose. Look what happened. I nearly lost my wife last night," he shook his head.

Anatoly's face reddened with anger, but he tried to hide it. He interrupted his father. "Well, look, I have to run into town for minute. When I come back, lets talk about the deal and have dinner as family," Anatoly said, headed for the car garage.

"How long will you be gone?" Dmitry asked, standing the in foyer in his robe as the maids scurried past him with naughty grins. "I start cooking in about an hour."

"Not long, papa." Anatoly turned and walked away. "Close your robe all the way. The maids are looking."

* * *

Victoria settled down at a small restaurant in the square not far from the airport to eat before she headed up to her hotel room for a while to rest.

She had found a flight out of Prague for the following morning and planned to leave this place for good. Of course Davyd had told her to be out of Prague by noon, but it wasn't like he could do anything to her now that she had left the animal farm. Plus, it was already going on 1:30, and she was starving.

Her plan had hardly turned out in her favor. She was humiliated by that undercover psycho, Dmitry, threatened by his dizzy wife, kicked out by the grandpa of the house without even being able to collect all of her belongings and forced to ride in a Smart Car back to the city with a very smelly security guard, who looked at her legs the entire thirty-minute drive. He had dropped her in the center of town, thrown out her bags and pulled off in the rain.

In another humiliating move, she had to call her father and beg him to purchase her a ticket on her behalf. He had immediately inquired about the termination instead of asking if she was alright.

Of course, she had avoided telling him that she had drugged the mistress with a cocktail that could have easily killed her and propositioned Dmitry while his wife was tripping. She omitted that she had been dragged from the house by her arm and thrown out in the courtyard—made to wait on the smelly security guard. She definitely avoided telling him that she herself was high on cocaine—even though he knew about her problem. She only said that it had not worked out and the Medlov's where no longer in need of her services. She would tell him more of the truth when she was back in DC and away from this place.

* * *

Anatoly shifted gears and tore through the streets of Prague on his cell phone. One of his contacts said that he had spotted Victoria at a restaurant in Prague 1.

If he rushed, he could get to her and deal with the bitch himself. How could his father just allow her to leave unharmed? How could Royal allow her to leave after all that had happened to her? He shook his head

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