The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov: Volume 7 (The Medlov Crime Family Short Stories Series) by Latrivia S. Nelson

 
    Prologue
    Oxford University
    Oxfordshire, England
     
    On a classic British autumn Wednesday of metallic gray skies, clean, brisk winds and multi-colored Sycamore trees, an afternoon lecture was taking place on the campus of Oxford University that was causing the masses to converge upon one of its most sacred buildings in record-breaking numbers.
    The Sheldonian Theatre, situated in the city’s center, has long been a ceremonial gem.  The eight-sided, historic fixture adorned with detailed tapestry, awe-striking brick masonry and overall old world opulence, was perfectly fitting for hosting the world’s most, powerful and wealthy crime lord. 
    Dmitry Medlov remembered visiting the campus many years back as a young man, when he attended his former lover Elsa’s graduation.  Even then, after seeing so much in the world, he had been in complete wonder of the stately institution’s beauty. He still remembered feeling small and insignificant on campus and in comparison to the great thinkers who had matriculated here.
    However, never in a million years, did he think that he would be a guest lecturer for its most prominent criminal justice academic community. 
    The appeal had come via FedEx and delivered to the front door of his palatial mansion in Prague.  Royal had delivered it with urgency, thinking that it had something to do with their son.  
    When he had first received the invitation from Oxford, he had understandably dismissed it.  There was no way that he was going to allow himself to be put on display for greenhorns and their ridiculous journals.
    However, his son Maxim – one of those reluctant greenhorns - had begged him profusely to change his mind, arguing that, “Everyone already knows who you are and what you do.  Now the University would like to understand why.  Do this for me, please, Papa?” 
    His boy.  His very own greenhorn. 
    The rest was history.
    Unable to deny his son’s request, he accepted the invitation against his other children’s wishes. It was probably their urging not to do it that made him want to speak. He might have retired but he was by no means…. soft . 
    After all, it wasn’t him who was in charge of the Medlov Crime Family anymore, and it wasn’t as if he was going to give any real specifics about any illegal activities that had taken place over the years.
    In essence, he would just speak on the perception the world had of him throughout the decades, and how wrong they all were.
    Now in front of a lecture hall full of over 1,000 hungry college students, professors, reporters, and curious fans with eyes glued to him and ears opened wide ready to receive his every word, Dmitry stood behind the podium in his signature, tailored black three-piece suit in complete silence.  
    The entire lecture hall was ominously still, waiting on bated breath for an answer to the question just posed by the student standing at that microphone.   
    A woman, whose resemblance to Elsa was uncanny, stood up during the Q&A and posed very specific questions to him.  “Why did you feel the need to acquire so much wealth in your life? And do you feel that that greed has affected your ability to really be human?”
    Dmitry raised a brow at the question.  He could tell that despite the department’s previous assurances, this was not going to be a soft ball interrogation.  With careful thought, he mulled through endless experiences to arrive at an answer appropriate for her delicate mind.
    She deserved an answer and in some way, it was karma-like that he’d be addressed by a woman who reminded him so much of a past that started right here on the campus where Elsa had experienced some of her most exciting and turbulent times. 
    The gray on the sides of his golden blonde hair was accented even more by the gold rimmed glasses angled downward on his perfect nose.  He rubbed his brow and looked down at his hand-scribbled notes under the desk light. Clearing his throat, he balled up the