Royal reloaded and walked closer, making her way down the long corridor. "Come out!" she screamed, shooting another round with tears in her eyes.
Dmitry moved from behind the door and stood in the hallway. "Royal, it's me. It's Dmitry. Ivan is dead, sweetheart. Just like we discussed last night."
Royal had the gun pointed at him. Even with many feet between them, she could hear something different in his voice, something familiar. She shook her head and grasped the gun with both hands.
"Liar!" she screamed.
"I came home like I promised." Dmitry raised his hands. "Look, no guns, baby." He took off his coat.
"Royal, it's Dmitry!" Davyd shouted. "It's Dmitry! God, can't you see that! You're about to kill your own husband!"
The room was still spinning. Royal wiped the tears and held the gun sturdy. Could it be? She walked closer towards him.
"Don't you fucking move!" she commanded.
"I won't," Dmitry said with his hands in the air.
In a mean sway, Royal advanced towards him. Tears in her eyes, sweating and shaking, she got closer. As she did so, her eyes fluttered. It was Dmitry! The gun began to shake. She looked up at her husband in the eyes.
By now, the floor was surrounded with men with guns, all unsure if they should point it at the mistress of the house or watch their boss die.
Dmitry stood still. Davyd stood only steps behind him, pleading with her and behind him Stepan stood with several other men.
When Royal was only a few feet from Dmitry, she took a deep breath. It was him. She clicked the safety on and dropped the gun in disbelief. Putting her hands over her mouth, she started to cry.
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry," she said in disgust. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know." Tears fell down her cheeks on to her collar bone.
Dmitry put his hands down and sighed. His heart was nearly in his throat. He had never imagined dying at his wife's hands before. He could handle it from anyone except her.
He walked closer to her and saw that she was completely distraught, but something else was wrong. Her pupils were dilated. Her skin was clammy and shaking.
"Baby," he said sympathetically.
As he reached for her, she fainted.
Catching her before she hit the ground, he picked her up and waved off his men. "She's alright," he said, checking her pulse. "Davyd!" he looked behind him. "Call the doctor. Tell him to get over here right now."
The house seemed to move in slow motion as Davyd ran passed Dmitry to find Anya. He and Stepan ran to her room and found it empty. Instinctively, Davyd ran to Anatoly's room, where he heard the young child screaming and beating on the closet door to get out. He didn't have a key, so he told her stand back and kicked it open.
Terrified, the girl stood in the back of the closet, screaming out for her mommy. He picked her up and held her tight as he whispered sweet, calming words into her ear.
Dmitry took his wife into their bedroom and closed the door. Carefully, he laid her on the bed and covered her in the sheets. He smelled vodka all over her. He couldn't understand. She had promised, and Royal would never break her promise.
He sat beside her on the bed with his hands covering his face. He had failed her again. As he looked up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror across he room. All that he could see was Ivan.
Disgusted, he got up from the bed and wiped the tears from his eyes.
Davyd walked in and stopped at the doorway. He looked over at the bed to Royal.
"Anya is back in her room. I had Victoria stay in there with her until she falls back to sleep," he informed his boss.
"I'll be in to check on her in a minute," Dmitry said drained. "Is she physically hurt, Davyd?"
"No. She's just shook up. Is Royal going to be alright?" Davyd asked.
Dmitry looked over at Royal. "I don't know."
"Well to help things, you might want to do something with that hair, eh?"
Dmitry sighed and smirked. "I think it's what set her off. She told me before I left that she felt like he would just show up one day."
"Looks like her worst fears came true. See to your wife. I'll take care of everything else," Davyd said, closing the door behind him."
Dmitry went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He looked in the mirror in sheer disgust. If he had just stayed, none of this would have happened. Royal had finally started to open up and what did he do? He brought it all back to her doorstep.
Reaching into the cupboard, he pulled out a black container and opened it to find a pair of unused clippers.
He plugged them in, leaned over into the sink and pulled the hair back off of his forehead. Running his thumb over the switch, he ran them down the middle of his wavy hair and watched it fall into the water basin.
Chapter 9
Victoria waited with Anya until she fell asleep. She sat quietly in the chair in the corner of the bedroom in the dark wondering how in the hell things had gotten so out of the control. She was supposed to be mounting Dmitry at this very moment in the silence of a quiet mansion.
Now, there were maids and a butler pulling bullets out of the wall. The letter of recommendation was definitely out of the question along with the possibility of a full years pay. All she could hope was that Dmitry wouldn't ask her if she had told Mrs. Medlov about his change or not. She didn't see why changing his hair color was such a big
