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

It was just dumb luck that once he arrived in Prague he had been told that Dmitry owned not only a restaurant but also a dress shop. He had planned on just stopping in to see some homage paid to a dead girlfriend; instead he had found a living, breathing replica of the woman who had scarred them all.

"Sir?" Royal asked with her hands folded in front of her.

The diamond necklace that Dmitry that bought her years ago to hide the scars Ivan had given her blinded Dorian as he walked closer.

"This is Royal Flush?" he asked in a deep rich Russian baritone that captivated the other women in the shop but worried Royal.

"This is." She stopped in her tracks. "How may we help you?"

Dorian tried hard not to blatantly stare at the striking woman, but he could not help himself. She appeared older, more seasoned, more knowledgeable than the pictures from many years ago. It was her eyes. They were dark and sinister now, no doubt because of Ivan.

"I want to buy a dress for my fiancée," explained. His voice was like silk in an odd baritone.

Ivan had told Dorian about his first experience with Royal many years ago at her previous shop in Memphis, how he had rudely made sexual advances towards her. It was because of this that Dorian was very careful and respectful with his tone though he wanted to ask her a million questions.

"Is it for a particular event?" Royal asked with a sinister look in her eyes. She didn't trust him at all.

"A night on the town. We've just arrived here in Prague for the weekend, and I'd like to surprise her," he said, taking his eyes off her and looking around the boutique. "I was hoping for something elegant, black of course, but not gaudy. I like classic beauty, you know… the timeless type." He thought the description fit Royal perfectly.

"Well, I'm sure that we can accommodate you with that," Royal said, turning to her assistants. "Ladies, lets pull a few collections in black." She turned back to the stranger. "What size?"

He smiled cleverly. "She's in between a six and an eight."

Royal nodded. "Six and eight, ladies."

The women scurried around and left the two to talk. Royal gave him a curious and untrusting half smirk as she went behind the counter. Inside, she was screaming for space. He was so familiar to her, yet she was sure that she had never laid eyes on him.

"So where are you from?" She tried to calm her anxiety.

"Moscow," he answered, walking over to the counter. "And yourself?"

"So many places," she pulled out a few collections of jewelry and began strategically placing them on the counter for him to shop thorough. "You'll want a nice necklace, pair of earrings or some jewelry to accompany your dress," she said without looking up at him. "We can provide you everything you need and have it delivered to your hotel this evening before seven."

His eyes burned through her. "You sound American," his voice was low. "Southern American."

She looked up at him. "I would suggest platinum jewelry. It's popular this season." Her eye twitched.

Dorian bit his lip. "Pick something. I'll buy it."

"Do you have a budget?"

"No. I'm not the budget type."

Royal grabbed the most expensive set of earrings, a necklace and bracelet in the case and placed them in a box. She could feel him staring at her. She finally looked up and sighed. "Memphis," she confessed. The truth longed to break free. She felt vindicated by saying it. "I'm from Memphis, Tennessee." She stood up a little straighter.

"Home of the blues," he smiled. "It's hot as hell there."

"So you've been?"

"Yes," he nearly whispered. "A few years back." He eyed her.

"How many years back?"

"Almost three and a half now."

Royal cleared her throat and moved the long strands of hair falling out of her bun. "I was long gone by then." She pushed the box across the counter. "This set is very charming. Shell be pleased at your selection."

Dorian reached into his jean pocket and pulled out his wallet. He put down a black American Express card on the counter and pushed it over to her fingertips.

Royal did not speak for a minute. So many thoughts passed through her head and her heart beat at such a painfully fast pace until words would have been far too much of a struggle.

He breathed as hard as she did. His thoughts were unreadable but desperate. With his hand still on the card, he eyed her as she looked down, refusing to make eye contact.

"I'm at the Hotel Iron Gate in the Royal Suite," his thoughts lingered on after his words, but he forced himself to stop talking, afraid to say too much or the wrong thing.

"Well have it delivered tonight," she said, finally looking up as she took his card.

"Is that your beautiful daughter you sent to the back?"

"Yes," Royal said, even more worried now.

"She looks well." His jaw clenched.

"She is. Thank you."

Royal watched the women come out of the back with an assortment of black dresses and walk to the sitting room where he could pick through them. He looked away from her for a moment and then looked back. He wanted to say something, but what he could he say?

"My assistants are very capable. I'll leave them to help you." She walked from behind the counter and headed towards the back. "Thank you for your business."

Dorian didn't speak. He watched her until she disappeared in the back and then calmly walked over to the sitting room to pick out a dress for his fictitious fiancée.

Chapter 16

The restaurant was only a block over from the boutique. Bundled up tightly, Royal carried Anya to see her father for