Dmitry's Closet Nelson, S. (best reads TXT) 📖

short dresses, lingerie and some with bruises and scrapes. He did not talk until the last picture was on the table, lined against the others to form a collage.

“Royal, how much do you know about Dmitry?”

Royal looked up from the pictures at Agosto.

“Why?” Tears started to form again.

“Do you ever wonder about where he gets all of his money?”

“His stocks. His businesses.”

“His whores?” Agosto added.

“Dmitry is not a pimp,” she said, pushing the pictures away. Now, he was just being preposterous.

“No, not justa pimp. That is actually a new niche for him in Memphis. Although, I think he runs a group out of Eastern Europe that is heavy into the prostitution. You may want to ask him.” Agosto pulled another file out.

“Dmitry would never.”

“Maybe. He has been tied to money laundering, extortion, drugs trafficking, illegal gambling facilities, nuclear weapons trafficking, precious gems trafficking and a host of other serious crimes globally. We just can’t prove it. Everyone who has ever thought about testifying has been murdered. Plus, the way that the Vory v Zakone sets up some of its organized crime syndicate models, you never really can connect the top guys with the soldiers and the ground work.”

“Are you insane? Listen to you. Listen to what you are saying.” Royal shook her head.

“I know it’s hard to believe. He seems like a nice guy. Treats you nice. But who would blame him. Look at you.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. There are only a few other people as major as your man in the Eurasian crime community, and he’s worked with and for all of them. He is the true meaning of connected.”

“If that’s true, then why would he be out on the streets, just walking around like a normal person? Why in the hell would he be running a restaurant if he’s so major?”

“Many crime families run their illegal businesses out of legitimate business store fronts. Many well-known Russian crime bosses have run them out of restaurants.”

“Dmitry is just a normal guy. I would know,” she ar-gued as she beat against her chest. “I live with him each and every day. I would know if he wasn’t normal.” Tears ran into her mouth.

“Would you? What’s so normal about Dmitry? You’re just used to him, used to his lifestyle. In actuality, everything about him screams mafia. Love blinds people.”

“I don’t believe you,” her voice was hushed.

He passed her a napkin.

“We can’t prove that he did this, but you wouldn’t want him to confirm this for you.” He slid a picture of woman with her neck sliced open, lying on a bedroom floor covered in her own blood.

“Do you know her?”

“No,” Royal said,letting the tears drop down on the paper. The sight instantly brought backthoughts of her sister and the man that she had killed as a child. She wanted to throw up.

“That is the late Mrs. Ari Medlov.” Agosto met her con-fused eyes. He nodded. “Not Dmitry’s wife. His sister-in-law, Ivan’s wife. She was found in New York like this. No one knows why. Everyone thinks Dmitry did it. What a temper, huh? I’ve heard that he can be a real son-of-a-bitch. You might want to be very careful with him.”

“Why are you showing me all of this? Are you saying that he’s a… monster?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Agosto put the pictures away. “He’s the worst kind.”

“I want a lawyer,” she said flabbergasted.

“You have your rights. They were read to you. I know,because I did it.” Agosto slid a small picture across the table to her. “Do you know this guy?”

She picked it up and shook her head. “Yes,” she said,handing it back to him. “That is Anatoly.”

“Who is he?”

Royal was about to tell the truth, then she caught her-self. Agosto could see it before she began to lie. “He’s the butler or something like it. He does everything.”

“Even kill?”

“I’ve never seen anyone killed.” She snapped.

“Have you ever heard of the Vory v Zakone then?”

“No.”

“He’s a member of a very elite organized crime group that has connections globally. Just remember that.”

“I don’t believe you,” Royal said,looking away.

“So, you want to end up like Ari Medlov?”

“No.” Royal stood up from the table and walked to the corner. “He’s all I have,” she said,swallowing hard. “You don’t know what that’s like.”

“To love someone? Of course, I know what that’s like, but I don’t think that he loves you. He’s using you.” Agosto stood up and walked over to her with his hands balled in the pockets of his jeans.

He was only inches away from her. She turned and looked up at him. Her face was red, puffy and swollen. But Agosto still thought that she was striking.

“Maybe you should just walk away before it’s too late,” Agosto quietly urged. “A nice girl like you doesn’t deserve to be put through this. Find some new place to start.”

Royal listened as he spoke barely above a whisper. She watched his mouth as it moved. She heard his words, but her thoughts were in a different place.

“It’s not your fault. You just wanted a job. Just wanted a family. Someone to love you. You just picked the wrong guy. He took advantage of you.” They made eye contact. He was working her.

His dark curly hair looked like silk against the contrast of his olive-toned skin. Agosto was a knockout,a little shorter than Dmitry but very well built. His bold Mediterranean features eased her spirit. He wasn’t hard to look at or stand by. His cologne wafted up to her nose. He knew his charms worked. He moved closer.

Tears fell down her cheeks.

“If you’re trying to get me to turn on him, don’t. I won’t do it.”

“You don’t have to turn. Just help us out a little.”

“Help you?” Shescoffed. “Help you how?”

“What’s the code to the basement of your shop?”

“I don’t even know that,” Royal snapped

“Can you get it?” Agosto asked.

She looked up into his eyes bemused butdidn’t answer. Agosto almost felt sorry for her situation. He knew that she did not know anything now, but he was