The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov: Volume 7 (The Medlov Crime Family Short Stories Series) by Latrivia S. Nelson Page A
Authors: Latrivia S. Nelson
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Bending toward the microphone, his baritone voice boomed and echoed throughout the acoustically superior room. “I never set out to acquire the wealth that I have been blessed to have acquired. I actually just wanted to not starve to death, and more than that, I didn’t want my little brother, a man whom I saw more like a son, to starve to death. This is one of those times when the saying the road to hell is paved with good intentions actually fits.”
Dmitry smiled a little, thinking of Ivan when he was yet a boy standing on the pavement outside of their old apartment in Moscow waiting on him to return from prison. A tear started to form in the side of his eye, but he quickly pushed it back. In his older years, he often thought of his brother often and often with painful side effects.
“We were beyond poor, and so alone, but we were determined to take our destiny into our own hands and make something of our futures. When you have that type of determination, nothing is impossible, not even becoming a billionaire. And when you have that type of experience, nothing makes you more human.”
Maxim Medlov was sitting in the front row of the large group with the other colleagues of his class in a pair of tweed slacks, a white button down shirt and a sweater, looking as splendid as a man of his stature should.
More of an academic than any other child of Dmitry’s, Maxim had grown into a handsome, tall, young man with dark striking features and an equally striking thirst for knowledge.
Boasting ink black wavy hair curled at the nape of his neck, wearing silver-rimmed glasses over his bright blue eyes the color of a London topaz and looking so much like Ivan until it made his mother sick, he often was referred to as the “Clark Kent of the Medlov men.”
Only, despite all of his heavenly features, there was nothing adventurous about Maxim. He was a settled man who believed in reasoning and non-violence.
Even as a boy, he had always asked the question why and now in his adulthood, he sought out the reasons as a budding educator, destined to be a professor at this very same institution. In fact, if his future was simply based upon the large endowment that Dmitry had given the school, Maxim’s grandchildren would also be professors here as well.
Watching his father answer the questions so candidly made him shift in his seat in discomfort. Maxim knew this scene would only anger Konstantin, his twin brother, more. He looked over across the room to find Konstantin glaring at him with an angry scowl on his face.
Dutifully standing guard over their beloved father, Konstantin looked around the room covertly, scanning for threats. To say that he did not want to be here was a supreme understatement. He loathed these philosophical types with all their tree hugging and non-violent ideals. He had seen that the world was made up of wolves and sheep, and nothing in between. It was sickening to him that their father had indulged his wimpy, simple-minded brother with this blasphemous request, and he had made sure to tell everyone just that at dinner last night right before he stormed off to be alone and brood.
Konstantin was the polar opposite of Maxim. While both were over 7’ tall, Konstantin was an extremely muscular, pure blonde, blue-eyed, olive-skinned monster of a man with a deep voice, brooding, rugged good looks, and possessing true Vor mentality.
He had quit college in his third year, refusing to further his education. Instead, he took a job under Anya and served as the Head of Security for Medlov Enterprises.
He had been the second of the children to move out of the family home, and was always the one with the shortest temper.
His mother, Royal, was completely against it all, knowing that the company was a front for the Medlov Organized Crime Family’s larger and more criminal global operations. She wanted more for her son than be relegated to the same rules
Bending toward the microphone, his baritone voice boomed and echoed throughout the acoustically superior room. “I never set out to acquire the wealth that I have been blessed to have acquired. I actually just wanted to not starve to death, and more than that, I didn’t want my little brother, a man whom I saw more like a son, to starve to death. This is one of those times when the saying the road to hell is paved with good intentions actually fits.”
Dmitry smiled a little, thinking of Ivan when he was yet a boy standing on the pavement outside of their old apartment in Moscow waiting on him to return from prison. A tear started to form in the side of his eye, but he quickly pushed it back. In his older years, he often thought of his brother often and often with painful side effects.
“We were beyond poor, and so alone, but we were determined to take our destiny into our own hands and make something of our futures. When you have that type of determination, nothing is impossible, not even becoming a billionaire. And when you have that type of experience, nothing makes you more human.”
Maxim Medlov was sitting in the front row of the large group with the other colleagues of his class in a pair of tweed slacks, a white button down shirt and a sweater, looking as splendid as a man of his stature should.
More of an academic than any other child of Dmitry’s, Maxim had grown into a handsome, tall, young man with dark striking features and an equally striking thirst for knowledge.
Boasting ink black wavy hair curled at the nape of his neck, wearing silver-rimmed glasses over his bright blue eyes the color of a London topaz and looking so much like Ivan until it made his mother sick, he often was referred to as the “Clark Kent of the Medlov men.”
Only, despite all of his heavenly features, there was nothing adventurous about Maxim. He was a settled man who believed in reasoning and non-violence.
Even as a boy, he had always asked the question why and now in his adulthood, he sought out the reasons as a budding educator, destined to be a professor at this very same institution. In fact, if his future was simply based upon the large endowment that Dmitry had given the school, Maxim’s grandchildren would also be professors here as well.
Watching his father answer the questions so candidly made him shift in his seat in discomfort. Maxim knew this scene would only anger Konstantin, his twin brother, more. He looked over across the room to find Konstantin glaring at him with an angry scowl on his face.
Dutifully standing guard over their beloved father, Konstantin looked around the room covertly, scanning for threats. To say that he did not want to be here was a supreme understatement. He loathed these philosophical types with all their tree hugging and non-violent ideals. He had seen that the world was made up of wolves and sheep, and nothing in between. It was sickening to him that their father had indulged his wimpy, simple-minded brother with this blasphemous request, and he had made sure to tell everyone just that at dinner last night right before he stormed off to be alone and brood.
Konstantin was the polar opposite of Maxim. While both were over 7’ tall, Konstantin was an extremely muscular, pure blonde, blue-eyed, olive-skinned monster of a man with a deep voice, brooding, rugged good looks, and possessing true Vor mentality.
He had quit college in his third year, refusing to further his education. Instead, he took a job under Anya and served as the Head of Security for Medlov Enterprises.
He had been the second of the children to move out of the family home, and was always the one with the shortest temper.
His mother, Royal, was completely against it all, knowing that the company was a front for the Medlov Organized Crime Family’s larger and more criminal global operations. She wanted more for her son than be relegated to the same rules
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