The World in Reverse (32 page)

             
“Well, someone wanted me dead tonight,” Nicola said, releasing a sigh. He cut the cards and Anatoly dealt them. 

             
Dmitry rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “What kind I say? Some people are just impatient.”

             
“I would have been dead if you hadn’t had your men there.”  Nicola didn’t waste time being cool.  He appreciated what they had done. 

             
“That was not my doing.” Dmitry pointed at Anatoly.  “You should be thanking him for saving your family.”

             
“I didn’t send them there for that,” Anatoly answered quickly.

             
“But he did make the call,” Gabriel added.  He winked at his cousin.  “No one would believe it, but the guy actually has a soft side.”

             
“I’m not soft,” Anatoly snapped. “I don’t trust you,” he explained. 

             
Nicola shrugged.  “The feeling is mutual.”

             
Dmitry picked up his cards.  “So have you had time to think about my offer?”

             
Nicola put down a card.  “You mean in between the gun play?”

             
“I have found that this is the time that men receive clarity,” Dmitry said, face expressionless.

             
“Yes, I’ve had time to think about it, and yes, it looks like I have no choice. I’m indebted to you.” The words felt like poison slipping from his lips.  He pushed down the bile in his stomach and took another swig of Jack.

             
“You are indebted to us, but I want you to work for me in a way that you aren’t always reminded of that.”  Dmitry watched his nephew put down the wrong card.  Still expressionless, he played his own card. 

             
“I’ll remember that fact every time I look at my children,” Nicola answered sincerely.  His face twisted up.  “I’m not rolling on any cops.”

             
“That’s not what I want you to do,” Dmitry assured.  “I’ve found it’s hard to get complete cooperation when you ask a man to go completely against the grain.”

             
“So what do you want me to do?” Nicola asked.  He put down his cards and stared at Dmitry.  “I’ve been a cop my entire life and after tomorrow, I’ll just be fucking unemployed.”

             
“You’d be surprised what can happen in a day,” Dmitry said with a grin.  “Tonight, you go up and see your wife and your kids. Tomorrow you put them on a plane and send them away.  Get yourself ready to become a new man and tomorrow evening, you meet your new friends.”

             
Nicola frowned. “Send my family where?”

             
Dmitry didn’t look up from his cards.  “To your family in Miami, I suppose.  That had to be your plan at some point.  You can use our jet.  They’ll be there in a couple of hours or less and then you can focus.”

             
“I don’t understand. You save my family. Send them off to keep them protected; offer me a job and all because I’m a honest man?  Would an honest man even consider working for you after being a cop for such a long time?”  Nicola rubbed a hand through his hair.  “I don’t know. I think you’ve got the wrong guy for whatever you’ve got planned.”

             
“I don’t make those kinds of mistakes. Of course you are the right man. You just don’t know it yet.  Besides good men make hard decisions all the time.  They are not always what appears to be the right choice but they are what is best considering their options. And you, Nicola Agosto, are out of options.”

             
Anatoly chuckled.

             
“It’s not so bad,” Gabriel said to Nicola. “I left the DEA, and I never looked back.”

             
“But he left a rich man. You’re leaving homeless and unemployed,” Anatoly said, unable to miss an opportunity to stick it to Nicola.  “I don’t know why my father likes you so much, but just take the offer.”

             
Nicola cut his eyes at Anatoly but chose to ignore his attitude for the moment.

             
“He’s never in a good mood,” Gabriel apologized. 

             
Anatoly rolled his eyes and played his cards.  “I don’t like cops.  And for the record, I think that this is a mistake.”

             
Dmitry looked at Gabriel.  “Make sure that goes down in the minutes.”

             
Nicola picked up the bottle. “Look, I appreciate the room and board, the whiskey, the cards…but the fact of the matter is that I’ve got a hit list that I need to start on.  Let’s raise the stakes a bit.  I’ll come and work for you for good, not because I want to but because if that means that I can use your resources to kill the motherfuckers responsible for trying to kill my kids and my wife, then it’s worth it.”

             
Dmitry raised a brow.  “No locking anyone up?”

             
“Let me make this clear.  I’m going to kill them or die trying,” Nicola said bluntly.  “Fuck honor, fuck my career, fuck it all.  I want the motherfucker that gave the order, since the rest of the bastards who did the hit are dead.”

             
Anatoly looked at his father, but did not speak.  Dmitry nodded.  “For good, you say?”

             
“Yes,” Nicola answered quickly. “For good.”

             
Dmitry stuck his hand out across the table.  “Shake on it.”

             
Nicola shook his hand hesitantly, knowing that this gentleman’s agreement was the most expensive that he’d ever made in his entire life.  “So, can I use your men?  I’m ready to go tonight to start busting heads until I get a name and an address.  I lost my only lead…the Roxie girl.  So, I have to do what I do best and turn this city upside down until something falls out that I can use.”

             
Dmitry liked Nicola’s tenacity but knew that the man was emotional at the moment.  “Revenge is a dish best served cold, my friend.”  He laid down his cards and smiled. “I win.”  Standing up, he tapped the table with his knuckles.  “Go to your hearing tomorrow.  Then you meet my men, and then you can get even.  For now, have a drink, relax and then go and see your wife.  Try to embrace and remember your last night as a free man.  In the morning, we go to work.”

             
“Why are you doing this?” Nicola asked.

             
Dmitry smiled. “Consider it an investment.”

             
“In what?” Nicola probed.

             
“I’m a business man.  There is only one answer.  I want to secure my own personal interests.”  Winking at Nicola, he patted his son on the back and left.

28

Alone in the massive bedroom wrapped in a towel after her bath, Ivy sat at the end of the large bed staring into the golden embers as they rose from the fireplace.  In contrast, cool air blasted from the vents in the ceiling above her, creating a relaxing, tranquil mood.  Under any other circumstance, the opulence of the ma
nsion would not have been lost on her, but at the moment, she could barely acknowledge all the work involved in making the beautiful mansion a palace for its guests.  

A startling flashback paralyzed her.  Guns shots.  Fire.  Screaming.  Fear of death.  The chaos still rattled around in her brain like a ricocheting bullet.  Every time that she closed her eyes, she could hear her husband’s voice.  She could see him shooting back at the men who had come to their home to take their lives. 

Fingers trembling, she clasped them together and said another prayer.

Thank you, Lord, for your deliverance
, she mumbled.  At just the thought of what could have been tears formed again at the corners of her tired eyes. 

She knew that Nicola had been summoned by the great and powerful Dmitry but her heart worried for him.  What had Nicola done?  What had he traded for their safety?  Every award and accommodation that he had received over the course of their marriage came to mind. 
And what about all the sacrifices, all the near death experiences?  What about their life and all that they had stood for?

Was he about to throw it all away?  Did he have to?  Could she do anything about it?  Her questions were still limitless, still unanswered.
It caused a panic deep inside of her, down the to the very core of her soul. 

A gentle knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.  Getting up, she held the towel tight
ly to her body and walked to it.  “Yes,” she said, unsure of who it could be.  She looked down at the bottom of the door and saw a shadow. 

“I came to check on you,” a woman’s voice answered.  “My name is…”

Ivy opened the door and looked out at the woman, stopping in mid-sentence.

Royal smiled warmly.  “I’m Dmitry’s wife,” she said, raising her arms with a tall basket full of gifts.  “May I come in?”

Ivy nodded.  Stepping to the side, she let Royal in the room.

Royal walked in, and Ivy quickly closed and locked the door behind her. 

Setting the basket on the bed, Royal began to pull out each item.  “I bought you some things for the night.  Underwear, sports bra, night clothes, a sundress for tomorrow, some lotion and hygiene products.  It isn’t much, but I figured it would help.  I spoke with Boris, and he said that you all were extremely put out.”  Turning around, she stared back at Ivy, who appeared to be in shock.

Royal was a busty, curvaceous woman.  She was mocha-colored with a long, bone-straight, inky black mane that stopped midway of her back. 
Its fullness bounced with her every move and spoke to careful care and attention as every part of her was. Heavy bangs lined her angelic face.  Her features were distinctively beautiful and striking as was her appearance.  Even in black yoga pants, a black tank top and Nike’s, she appeared regal with four-carat diamonds in her ears, a Presidential Rolex on her arm and the smell of mind-blowing wealth on her skin.  There was however a startling sight that contrasted with her stunning beauty.  A scar across her neck, old but pronounced, drew worry and curiosity.  Ivy tried not to stare. 

“Aren’t you Royal Stone?” Ivy asked in confusion.

Royal raised a perfectly arched brow. “I used to be in another life,” she said, turning back around.  “There are some other things in here that might be useful.”

Ivy watched the woman from behind.  She could see the tension in her shoulders. 
“My husband mourned your death a few years ago,” she continued.  “He told me something awful had happened to you.  Your death was in the news for a week.  He had worried that he hadn’t done enough to protect you.”

Royal huffed.  “Well, what can I say?  The dead has arisen.”  She didn’t like sharing the details of her complicated past
, but she could understand Ivy’s sheer wonderment with standing face-to-face with a ghost.  It was partly why she didn’t bother to venture out into the city.  Instead, she stayed behind the walls of her compound and treated it like a fortress of protection instead of a prison, like some people might have. 

Ivy remembered herself.  Walking up to the bed beside Royal, she looked at the gifts on the bed.  This was kind of Royal, something that she didn’t have to do.  “Forgive me. 
I can’t thank you enough,” Ivy said sincerely.  She picked up the black cotton underwear, still with the tags on it.  “The fire took everything that I owned.”  She huffed.  “Even the smallest of things.”

“Someone came after you?” Royal asked.  She looked over Ivy with pity and understan
ding that could only be shown if a person had some personal insight.

Ivy nodded.  “They would have killed my entire family, my children, my unborn child…everyone….if  your men hadn’t shown up.  We’d all be dead right now.”

There was so much communicated between them at that moment that went unsaid but understood. 

Without asking, Royal wrapped her arms around Ivy and hugged her tight.  Many years ago, nearly the exact same thing had happened to her.  She was brutally attacked by Dmitry’s younger brother while she was pregnant.  To hear that someone else had been so offended made her blood boil with anger.  “You’re safe now,” Royal promised.  “No one can get in here to bother you.”

Ivy felt herself tearing up again.  Her mouth watered and suddenly she could not hold in her pain.  Sobbing softly, she held Royal tightly.  “Thank you so much.”

“No need to thank anyone,” Royal said, si
tting her down on the bed.  “I think that to keep them from going straight to hell, Dmitry and the boys have to do one good deed a year.  It’s written in blood somewhere.”

They both laughed, breaking the tension. 

“Are your children alright?” Royal asked, looking towards the door that led to their room.  “Where they injured in anyway? If so, I can call a doctor and have him look them over.  It won’t be any trouble.”

“Physically, they are alright, but emotiona
lly, there is going to be a lot of work to be done to help them heal after this,” Ivy said, wiping her face.  “The most traumatic thing that ever happened to them before this was seeing their old dog, Henry, have a heat stroke.”  She was grateful for that fact at the moment. 

“Just be there for them as much as possible.  I have three children.
One little girl and two twin baby boys.  My oldest recently went through a very traumatic event that we are still helping her cope with.  There are nightmares - terrible ones.  Then the mood swings can be a bit much.   I can tell you from experience that no one is ever the same after you dangle their lives in front of them.  I don’t care if it’s a child or an adult.  But reassurance goes a long way.”  Royal stopped herself, feeling that she had said too much.  It was always hard to deal with outsiders.  She was never sure of what to say or how to say it. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Ivy knitted her fingers together.

Royal thought that she had been answering her questions.  “Yes,” she answered hesitantly.

“Has my husband been working for your husband?” Ivy’s voice trembled.

Royal shrugged. “Who’s to say?  A lot of men work for my husband.”

“A lot of men aren’t cops,” Ivy replied.  Her disappointment showed.   “He’s a good man.”  She tried to wrap her mind around what she suspected.  “Everything that I’ve ever known of him has been good.  But if we’re here…”

Royal stopped her with a raised hand.  Her diamond ring sparkled across the room.  “I want to help you.  I really do, but my husband’s business is just that.  His.  I can’t nor do I try to control it.  If you feel in your heart that your husband is a good man, then no one should be able to tell you any different.  And he must care, otherwise, he wouldn’t be here doing whatever he’s doing to keep you safe.”

Ivy needed more of an explanation than that, but she could tell that she wouldn’t get it from Royal.  “I appreciate that.” Giving up on the subject, she clutched the clothes in her hand. “I better go and get dressed.”

“Get some rest,” Royal said, standing up as well.  “I’m sure they will send Agosto up before long.  And in the morning, please consider having breakfast with me and my family.  I’m sure that being around them will put to rest any worries that you might have.  We’re not monsters.  Just people, just like you.”

Ivy truly doubted that but did not lead on.  “I’d be honored to,” she
said, standing at the doorway of the restroom. “For what’s it’s worth, I’m glad that you’re alive.”

“Thank you,” Royal said with a smile.  “I’m glad that we’re both here instead of the altern
ative.”

Walking out of the room, Royal closed the door behind her.  Quietly, she made her way down the hall, a guard waiting on her as she got to the stairway. On the way down, she saw Nicola coming up.

Exhausted and still in the same soiled clothes that he arrived in, he still was courteous enough to step to the side and bow his head slightly. “Mrs. Medlov,” he said, face unreadable.  The smell of alcohol permeated from his skin.  Bags swelled under his tired brown eyes and his stubbly, five o’clock shadow raised above his square jaw.  But even his dishevelment, he still was a picture of raw beauty. 

Royal stopped a step above him.  “How are you?” she asked, voice low.

Twisting up his wide mouth, he bit his lip. “I could be better.”  Then he shrugged at a thought.  “I could be worse.”

“Your wife is very sweet,” she said with a smile.  “Make sure to tend to her carefully.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”  He saw her eyes run down to his hand, clasping the bottle he had taken from the solarium.

“I’m glad that you all are alright.  Do have a good night,” she said, turning to her bodyguard.  “Get him some fresh clothes and bring them up.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Nicola interrupted.

“Do it,” Royal said abruptly.
  Her demeanor changed quickly.  Remembering herself, she relaxed her shoulders and smiled.  “Now, please.”  Her voice was softer with the last bit but not any less of an order. 

The bodyguard nodded but did not speak.
  The unease in his face was evident.  Standing behind her, he pushed on the earpiece in his ear and spoke in Russian. 

Nicola smirked. “I see that you’ve managed to acclimate to your husband’s way of doing things.”

Royal didn’t smile now. “It’s the only way to do things, Mr. Agosto.  A bit of advice.  You might want to as well.  These waters are a lot harder to negotiate than you’re used to.”

Nicola didn’t speak.  Rolling his neck, he took a swig straight from the bottle.  “Thanks for the advice,” he said, acutely aware of her meaning. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow.  Do try and get some rest.  I’m sure that you need it,” Royal said, suddenly stoic and rigid.  Stepping down past him, she slipped her hands into her pockets and headed quietly to the other side of her large house, bodyguard in tow.  One would have thought that the man wasn’t there behind her looming like a dark shadow.  It took years of practice for such a thing not to bother a person.  It took years of being watched and followed so often that one just learned to ignore it, to appreciate it, to count on it.  And what time of enemies lurked outside to call for such a thing.  The answer was sobering. 

Nicola watched her as she went
on her way and thought back to when she was just a young, clueless shop girl completely inept and over her pretty, little head.  Now, she was regal, in-control and confident in her more-than-distinguished position.  Other women in the underworld wanted to be her.  They probably mimicked themselves after her. Bosses sought out women who looked like her just so they could be more like her husband. 

And she did not flinch in the limelight.  It was as if she barely noticed it.

He imagined that it was due to years of seeing more than her share of a world that just as dark as it was powerful. Every luxury afforded her was paid with the life of someone else, and she had learned to accept that fact.

In truth, he didn’t want to see his wife lose her innocence that way.  Royal, while extrem
ely beautiful, was jaded now - a shell of the woman that she could have been had she not been introduced to a life where crime was a constant.  Yet, even in the depths of her underworld existence, she still was safer than his wife.  Her children were safer than his.  The man following behind Royal and the many others strategically placed around her palatial home with fully-automatic weapons and till-death loyalty ensured that because of her name, she would always be protected, always be made to walk above the blood, bones and bodies of her husband’s victims, so that she’d never have to feel the reality of who he really was.

It was that protection that he sought.  It was that assurance that he needed.  It was security that he was about to trade his entire life for…and it was worth it. 

Headed up the stairs, he slowly came to grips with his new life.  Whatever he was before this, he was no longer.  All justifications for honor had gone.  There was only one reality and that was that he had to keep his family safe.