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

Plus, she didn't want him to know that his scathing remark had humbled her… for the moment.

"I see that you are finally awake," Dmitry said, walking into the room with his son closely following. "Did you get some sleep?"

"As much as to be expected," she said, picking her coffee cup back up and holding it close to her lips. She felt Davyd's foot kick her. "I slept reasonably well, dear," she retracted.

"Good." Leaning over, Dmitry kissed her head. "Where's Anya?"

"Right outside playing with her puppy."

"So she liked it?" Anatoly asked. He had given her a chocolate lab for her birthday only a few weeks ago. He stood in the corner by the window with his arms crossed looking out at Anya.

"She loves it," Royal smiled. "What brings you back to Prague so quickly? Is there trouble in paradise, Anatoly?"

Anatoly looked up at Dmitry and raised his brow. "Can't I just come and visit?" There was an incredibly mischievous smile on his face.

"You don't just do anything," Royal said quickly. She eyed Dmitry as he sat down across from her. "So, what is going on? Her voice lowered. Something deep in her stomach tugged at her –something was wrong.

"If you must know, Anatoly is thinking of selling Dmitry's Closet. It's not bringing in nearly the revenue it did before," Dmitry responded, picking up the discarded newspaper.

Davyd sat quietly observing the two. He hoped that Royal would behave.

"Are the people of Memphis no longer fascinated with the tourist attraction that it's come to be?" Royal huffed sarcastically. "Oh well. It couldn't last forever." She didn't lead on to her thinking more was involved.

"You know, you should spend more time down at your new shop," Dmitry suggested to Royal. "It will give you something to do, maybe make you happier."

"And what makes you think that I'm not happy?" she bit out in a growl.

Anatoly laughed, and then turned away from the troubled couple. Even Davyd almost laughed. Royal was like a constant thorn in her husband's side, but still Dmitry did not waiver in his attention to her.

Anatoly found the cat and mouse game boring and overly dramatic. However, if his father was happy in his torture, then so was he.

Dmitry sighed and changed the subject. "The teacher will be here today. Very soon in fact," he looked down at his Rolex. "I was hoping since you did not take part in interview process that you would at least talk to her today, lay out ground rules of house and give her instruction as to what you want her to do with Anya."

"That's simple. I want her to go back to where she came from. I can teach my own daughter. I don't need some nanny coming in here like I'm incompetent."

"She's only here to help. And no one thinks that you're incompetent. You said yourself you wanted more time to focus on you, more time to focus on the boutique… "

"She's not welcome here as far as I'm concerned. But since you have already sent for her, I'll find something for her to do. After I teach Anya myself then she can tutor her as a follow up… or whatever." She rolled her eyes again, knowing that the entire room was now focused on her. Trying to justify her position, she tried to stop her whining. "This is just stupid. I mean, just because everyone else has a teacher doesn't mean we have to. Were not like everyone else," she reminded them all.

The butler, Stepan, walked into the great room and interrupted the would-be argument.

Dmitry took his eyes off his visibly disturbed wife and looked up at him. He waved the butler to come closer.

"Ms. Victoria Jackson has arrived, sir. Should I have her come in here, or would you like to talk with her in the family room?"

"The family room," Royal interjected. She huffed. Why didn't anyone understand that she didn't want some woman in her home? Who in their right mind would want that?

"Yes, ma'am," Stepan turned and walked out.

"Beeeeehave, Royal," Dmitry ordered. He clinched his jaw.

"You behave," she hissed.

Cutting his eyes at her, he stood up from the table and went to the large glass double doors. He didn't want to admit it, but suddenly he felt the same apprehension as his ever-unhappy wife. Calling for Anya, he finally shut out his concern as his little girl scurried in with her puppy.

"The dog doesn't come inside," Royal ordered. "I've told you that a thousand times." Her tongue was sharp.

"Yes, mama," Anya pushed her puppy out of the door quickly. "Go on, Bubbles."

"Is that what you named him?" Anatoly asked her as he picked her up to carry her to the family room.

"Yes, his name is Mr. Bubbles, because Mommy said everyone has to have a title." Anya wrapped her small arms around her brother and kissed his face.

"She called one of the gardeners by his first name the other day. And I was explaining to her that just because he works for us doesn't mean that he doesn't deserve respect. That is why we use titles."

No one could deny Royal's logic or how kind she was to everyone outside of the family at the chateau.

"Where are you going?" Royal asked Anatoly as he followed Dmitry.

"With you," he chuckled. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"You're not helping," Dmitry warned Anatoly without looking back as he slipped on his suit jacket.

Neither are you, Anatoly thought to himself. Was he the only one who thought that this was a bad idea?

* * *

As her mystery guest waited, Royal stormed through the family rooms large oak double doors with her entourage of Dmitry, Anatoly, Anya and Davyd in tow.

Dressed to kill in a black knee-length leather skirt