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Book online «Dmitry's Closet Nelson, S. (best reads TXT) 📖». Author Nelson, S.



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over exaggerated convoy.

In anticipation, Dmitry had conveniently opened the front door of his home, turned on all of his exterior lights and was having a cigar out on the front porch with hismen when they pulled up.

To the officers’ chagrin, the element of surprise had been ruined. Almost as if Dmitry had been tipped off. All of his guards had discarded their guns and stood outside in the front smoking cigarettes, eagerly waiting to be hauled downtownfor a quick visit, according to their boss. They complied obediently, having been trained long ago how to deal with the shields.

Dmitry hadswitched cell phones and dumped his com-puter files. Everyone had been notified including his attorney.

He was ready for them.

As they came up the porch steps with guns drawn, he raised his hands and looked confused.

“What is this?” he asked as they turned him around against the front door and put the cuffs on him. His rights were read to him. Politely, he did not interrupt. There was no resistance. All the planning and gun power was for nothing.

A man of very muscular build and bo-legs in all-black tactical gear and his face covered in a black mask walked up to Dmitry and noted his cocky smirk.

“Happy New Year,” the man said sarcastically.

“Just get this over with,” Dmitry said, looking down and eyeing the man. “You all don’t have anything on me. I’ll be home before morning.”

“Did you get the girl?” The masked man turned and asked another officer not far from him.

“I didn’t know she was on the list.”

The man smiled. “Oh, she’s on the list.”

Dmitry was suddenly enraged. There was no need to arrest Royal. She didn’t know anything. She was supposed to come down from her bathand find them all gone. He would then return later and inform her of the awful mix up.

But that was the masked man’s intention. He knew that Royal was unaware,but he wanted her to know. He wanted to talk to her, to get in her head, to turn her from her sanctimonious lover one truth at a time.

The resistance started immediately. Dmitry jerked and pulled one officer down trying to get into the house to warn Royal, but the masked-man clashed against Dmitry’s giant frame. Their bodies collided and made a loud thunder. Other officers quickly piled on top of him. He still pum-meled through like a linebacker on a scrimmage line. The last tackle took him down at the threshold of his doorway.

He hit the ground hard. The thud rocked the marble floor. With men on top of him and blood in his mouth, they struggled to get him up off the floor. He spit blood and shook off his dizziness. He was still fighting. The large group of men dragged him out to one of the squad cars, pushed him in and hit the roof of the car, signaling to drive him off.

∞♥∞

Relaxed and in a tranquil daze, Royal soaked in the wa-ter with her hair up in a bun and the candles lit around her with the music blasting on her IPod.

Her eyes were closed but every once in while, she would lift her hand out of the warm water and look at her engagement ring sparkling in the darkness.

She had never loved diamonds as much as she loved them now. Maybe it was because she had a whole chest of them given as gifts from Dmitry on nearly every occasion. Diamond rings, diamond earrings, diamond watches, diamond necklaces, diamond hair pins. Diamonds. Di-amonds. Diamonds.

She hummed a soothing tune under her breath. Life is great, she thought to herself.

At first Royal thought that it was all too good to be true, but it had turned out to be her big break. She had the dream job, the dream fiancé and the dream home. She opened her eyes and grinned at the thought. She had it all.

She was just about to close her eyes again when she noticed a light shining from under the door. Why did Dmitry have a flashlight? She sat up in the tub as the door knob turned slowly.

“Dmitry?” she called out, looking across the bathroom for her towel. Her heart skipped a beat. She could feel the constriction in her chest. Something was not right.

The door flung open and four men barged in the bath-room with their guns pointed in full black tactical gear with their lights on their guns blinding her in a standard two-by-two cover formation. She screamed when she saw them, trying to both cover her body and prepare to be shot.

Launching a bar of soap, she hit one man in the head. Her shrieking cry and vulnerable state made another man almost lower his gun. Almost. He quickly refocused the infrared beam on her wet bosom. She was like a deer in headlights. Tears ran down her face as she screamed for Dmitry, but he never came.

“Someone call the cops!” she screamed, only covered by the bubbles in the water. Her lips quivered.

“FBI, Ma’am,” one man said, walking towards the bench where her towel had been placed. He grabbed it and threw it over to her.

Royal was confused. The FBI?

“Well what the hell are you doing in my bathroom?” Royal asked,catching the towel. She was too afraid to stand up and wrap herself, but she was certain that the men would not turn around and give her a chance to cover up. “Dmitry!” she screamed again.

“No need for the screaming, Ma’am. We have a no knock warrant. We need you to get dressed and come with us immediately,” the man ordered. His face was completely covered by a black mask only revealing his brown eyes.

Royal looked over at him, breathing hard and shaking. She wiped the water and tears from her face.

“Why? I haven’t done anything?”

“Get dressed now, Ma’am.” The man signaled for the men to leave the room. He walked slowly out. His footsteps squeaked against the puddles of water now on the floor. He stopped at the door and turned around.

“Do

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