"Would you like some tea?" Royal offered graciously. She poured herself a large glass and set it beside her.
"No," Victoria said, looking for the booze. It surprised her that the mistress wasn't drunk tonight, especially with Dmitry away from home. "Do you have something stronger?"
Royal raised her brow and smiled. "I'm sure I do, but for now, lets talk about why I wanted to speak with you." She sighed. "Victoria, I want to write you a letter of recommendation."
"Really," Victoria was speechless.
"Yes, for your next assignment. You see, when you came here, we had unresolved issues that you had nothing to do with. Since you have come here, we have resolved those issues and in the process have realized that we are no longer in need of your services."
Victoria was silent.
"So, we are going to pay you in full for your entire contract, provide you with a letter of recommendation and send you on your way… tomorrow."
"I see."
Royal waited for a response.
"If I may ask, when was this decision made?"
Royal did not see the relevance but chose to answer. "I made the decision today, and I will discuss it with Dmitry tonight when he returns, but trust me the decision is final."
"I understand." Victoria smiled. "Well thank you for the opportunity, Mrs. Medlov. It has been my pleasure. Since I'll be leaving tomorrow, do you mind if we spend a while talking about my progress with Anya?"
Royal was relieved that there was no opposition. "Sure. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, what type of stronger drink would you like?"
"Umm… scotch sounds nice. Do you have any?"
"Of course. I'll be right back."
Royal left the room quietly and walked down the hall to the great room to grab a bottle of scotch. Victoria listened carefully for the click of her stilettos then reached into her purse and pulled out a vile of cocaine. Dropping a little more than a gram into Royal's tea, she swished around the contents to make sure it could not be detected and slipped the vile back in her purse. Soon after, Royal returned with a crystal vase of scotch and poured Victoria a glass.
"Sorry it took so long. Davyd must have put it away."
Royal sat back down and sighed. This hadn't been so bad. Originally, she thought that because of the short notice, there might be a conflict, but alas it had not. She smiled at Victoria, and then noticed her eyes were dilated.
"Are you alright, Victoria?" Royal asked curiously. "You look… high."
Victoria laughed. "No. I had a few drinks earlier, a lot earlier, but I'm fine."
"You didn't drink and drive, did you?"
"Honestly, Mrs. Medlov, I only had two drinks earlier, and I waited a couple of hours to drive. I just haven't had anything to drink since I've been here considering my position. Now that I'm leaving, I figured I might as well have another."
"I guess you're right," Royal relaxed. "What's a few drinks, huh?"
* * *
The dark waters on the Black Sea were heavy with waves passing by in silent melodic symphony as the large yacht navigated on the coastline under the cover of night. Dmitry stood on the deck looking over at the water as the other men talked cheerfully among themselves.
In his own torture, he continued to think of Royal. Some strange force was pulling him back home to her, so much in fact, it was impossible for him to concentrate. It had been agony to get dressed and come out here with men he had vowed to the only person who had truly loved him to never see again.
His mind was twisted around a collage of thoughts of Royal, of what she had been through, of what they had both sacrificed to walk away from this life, and yet here he was again being what he denied he was for almost three years… a Vor.
For the others at the meeting, it was a pleasure to have the great Dmitry Medlov back in their midst, and a pleasure to know that the name would be carried on by his trusted son, Anatoly. The group had received them both happily and was not surprised to know that largest international gunrunners in the business were interested in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Once they were escorted with their entourage of men on to the yacht, there was no question in most of their minds that if the Medlov's wanted this business, they would get it.
Anatoly was the center of attention. The men swarmed around him, quizzing him on his knowledge of global interaction among the Vory and his position on new business like cybercrime and old business like human trafficking.
For Anatoly, this was a coming out party of sorts. While he had been the big fish in the little pond of the United States, there was evidently a lot more business outside of the secure borders of the free world.
As the crowd dissipated, Anatoly found his way over to his father. He was tower of silence tonight only nodding and smiling at the men in his normal gentle fashion but much more introverted than usual.
Dmitry stood with a glass of vodka in a black suit that only made him look taller and more regal. His dark hair gleamed with luster and his eyes pierced through all that he bothered to notice.
"Papa, what is the matter?" Anatoly asked, sitting in the chair by where his father stood.
"Nothing. I am here to support you. You are the guest of honor tonight. There is no need for me to make show."
"They all are excited to see you. I've heard a hundred stories since I got here about all that you've done as boss.
