Read The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov: Volume 7 (The Medlov Crime Family Short Stories Series) for Free Online Page B

statement to stand on this matter.  Any additional interviews will be handled by my public relations team, specifically my Chief Information Officer.  Thank you.”
    As Dmitry moved out of the way to let the CIO, Peggy Burrows take over the news conference as discussed, reporters screamed out before he could exit.
    “Where is your CEO?” one reporter demanded.  “Did she quit? Was she in an airplane accident as well?
    Dmitry stopped in his tracks.  Darting his eyes over to the scruffy journalist holding his notepad tightly, pen ready to write, he snarled.
    “Is it true that your entire board is now completely comprised of members of the Vory v Zakone?” another asked.
    “Was the bombing of your skyscraper project in Milan part of a hit put on you by other factions of your mafia organization?” another screamed.
    Peggy picked up on Dmitry’s agitation and spoke quickly. “I’ll be answering any additional questions during the Q&A portion of the press conference. Keep in mind that this is about Hutton Industries and not Mr. Medlov’s personal affairs,” she said, nodding toward the journalists.
    Dmitry knew that he had to get out of there.  Moving toward the back of the small crowd behind him, he saw Davyd waiting with his arms folded across his large chest, nearly shielding Emma from sight.  “Come on, boy, let’s get you out of here before the vultures start to circle,” he said, moving one of the guards out of the way. “Make sure that the cars are ready to escort everyone out of here,” he ordered one of the men as Dmitry’s other guards moved people out of the way to get Dmitry out the back.
    The press conference was basically over as soon as Dmitry finished talking.  The reporters and cameramen immediately started to try to move toward him as he attempted to exit.  They continued to call out at him with allegations and rumors. 
    “Fuck off,” Ivan told one reporter before he shoved him out of the way, causing the man and his recorder to hit the marble floor and slide a few feet away from him.  Ivan grabbed Arie’s hand and pulled her toward the back with Dmitry. 
    Another man trailing closely behind made sure to get the interaction on camera.  “Ivan, do you have any words for the people, any explanation for the true reasons behind Dmitry’s decision?” he asked, shoving the camera in Ivan’s face.
    Ivan stopped and smiled then flipped the man the bird.  “Can you put on your news station, you fucking cunt?” he spat as he walked out with Dmitry and his men.
    They rushed as fast as they could out to the cars without running.  Pushing past the cameras and the onlookers, they loaded into the cars and pulled out into the busy downtown streets of London.
    Sitting in the back of one of the Land Rovers, Dmitry rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked out of the window. He could see reporters literally running beside the car, trying to get their last shots.
    “Pathetic,” he said in disgust.
    “You did fine,” Davyd assured.  “You did what you said you’d do. You didn’t duck and hide and send out a fucking piece of paper to tell people about them losing their jobs.  You told them what happened.  Why what was being done had to be done.”
    Dmitry had to give it to the old man; he only saw the word in black and white, no gray. If only, he could do the same, things might not be so messed up for him.
    Emma sat in silence beside him.  Clutching her purse and hiding under a large had and dark shades, she wiped a tear from her eyes.
    Dmitry looked over at her and offered a quiet hand. Gratefully, she clenched it and tried to smile.  “Mom loved Hutton,” she said softly. 
    “I’ll do whatever it takes to bring it back, stronger than before Emma. I promise,” Dmitry said, feeling guilt overwhelm him.  He was certain that under Emma’s control the business would have done much better. She had spent years under her mother’s tutelage.  She would have done the right thing,