Chapter Two - The Mafia Princes Diaries

Dimitri's POV

I picked up the frame that sat on my desk; it had three photos in it. The first was of my mother and father on their wedding day, Alexi and Nina Koslov. The second was of my father’s second in command's four sons Adrian, Luka, Nikoli and Mishka. Adrian was the same age as me at 28, and when I took over from my father as the next Don of the Russian Mafia US contingent, Adrian would become my second. His younger brother Luka, who was 24 would be one of my enforcers, and the twins Nikoli and Mishka, both 22, would take over as a couple of my underbosses. The final Picture was when I was 11, sitting on my knee was the prettiest little girl wearing a blue pinafore dress and a white shirt under it, a pair of pink unicorn wellies on her feet, and her white, blonde hair was in pigtails which stuck out of the top of her head. The smile on her face lit up her whole aura and her stunning purple eyes, which she inherited from the Vassilev bloodline, showed how happy the little girl was. I had loved this little girl since the moment she was born, and Uncle Aleksandr placed her in my arms. She had opened her eyes and cooed up at me, I knew then that I would marry this girl. She was the first daughter born to either of our families in six generations, so she was the Russian Mafia's Printzessa (Princess). She was my Pchelka (little bee), and her four brothers and I were besotted by her from day one.

When she turned four, we all went to wake her up to sing happy birthday to her, and when we went into her room, she wasn't there. Her mother had taken her in the middle of the night and disappeared. Uncle Aleksandr was beside himself with grief, my father was raging that the little Pintzessa had been taken. Adrian turned cold and deadly, and even Luka became savage. Nikoli and Mishka became quiet, but they grew into strong men who you didn't mess with. We would be a strong team when we took over. Which was a good thing, but the reason behind why we had all turned so cold was still a nightmare for us. I still went over that night and what I should have done differently. I had had a bad feeling all day, I should have spoken up. I didn't understand what my gut was telling me.

Seventeen years later and we still had no leads on where she was, no matter how hard we looked, and we wouldn't stop until we found her, there seemed to be no trace of her. Not even any sighting of her beautiful eyes had been given to us. It worried us that she wasn’t with the world anymore, but deep down, I knew she was alive. I no longer ignore what my gut tells me.

I continued to look at the photo, running a finger over the face of the beautiful little girl. It was her 21st birthday today. I wondered what she looked like now. Sighing, I put the photo down just as my desk phone in the office of one of the businesses that I was the CEO of, part of the family’s legal side of our businesses began to ring. Picking up the phone, I put it to my ear.

"What?" I demanded, my aura had shifted to anger at myself, and I was taking it out on whoever was disturbing my musings.

“Mr Kozlov, a Mrs Orlov calling from London for you,” Came the voice of my Secretary.

“I don’t have a clue who this woman is. She can make an appointment if she needs to speak with me.” I responded. I wasn't in the mood for people grovelling to me today.

“She is adamant, sir, said something about a dove?” The breath caught in my throat, and I stilled completely at the word Dove. There was only one thing that came to my mind when the word Dove was mentioned.

“Put them through James and get Adrian for me as well,” I said, trying to keep my breathing steady. "Mention dove when you speak to him."

“Yes, sir.” The response came before I heard a click.

“This is Koslov,” I said, my tone aggressive. If this were some trick, heads would roll.

"M...M... Mr K... Kozlov?" Came a timid voice, she sounded older in age, but she was nervous, so I couldn't be sure.

"Speaking," I said calming my tone. My gut was telling me to listen to this woman, and I didn't want my aggressive nature to scare her off.

"I... uh...I think I have found you, Printzessa." She said. I froze. I couldn't have heard her right, even when James said Dove, hope sparked to life in my chest. A hope that had long been buried deep in the depths of my cold heart.

"Excuse me?" I said with a growl to the tone as there was a knock at my door. I looked up to see Adrian through the glass of my office. I motioned for him to come in, which he did. I put the phone on loudspeaker so he could hear. He sat down silently, his usual blank look on his face, giving away nothing.

"I...I... Th... There is a g... girl who... who...who w....works." The woman stammered, and I was getting impatient.

"Spit it out," Adrien growled; I could literally see the jump she probably did at his tone. Suddenly, there was some rustling, and the phone must have been passed to someone else as the next voice was a steady, deep male voice.

"Mr Kozlov, my name is Vitaly Orlov. I own a little cafe in London. We have a girl who works for us who came in this morning with one blue eye and one deep purple eye." I saw Adrian tense; it was a fraction of a movement and if you didn't know what to look for, you would have missed it. "Normally, she had two blue eyes, which leads me to suspect she has blue contacts to hide her eyes. We only know of one family with that eye colour, and we know you have been looking for the missing Princess for many years; we think it might be her."

I could feel my breathing start to speed up. I looked at Adrian whose face had paled, but his expression hadn't changed.

“How old is the girl?” Adrian asked. His tone had the usual deadness to it, but I felt more than heard the infliction in it at the words we were hearing.

“She turned 21 today,” The man told us. I saw Adrian's eyes widen, and he looked to me. My heart was beating so rapidly, I’m surprised he couldn’t hear it.

"Send me your address, and we will be there as soon as we can." I barked, trying to settle my breathing. Seventeen years, and this was the first sighting of her ever. Even if it wasn’t her, we couldn’t ignore it. We had to check and make sure. I gave the man my direct mobile number, something only the closest of people to me had.

"You need to get here soon. We think her stepfather is going to do something to her tonight. We know he beats her, but we can't do anything about it because of who he is. She said he wants her home at a specific time, normally he doesn’t care where she is, so the fact he wants her home by five doesn’t sit well with us.”

"Who is he?" I asked through gritted teeth. If this was our little Vi, then he was a dead man.

"Judge Julian Granger the third." The woman’s voice came over next. "He is in the pocket of a lot of the Italian Mafia around here. And he is the son of the Duke of Shrewsbury. He’s pretty untouchable."

"I appreciate you informing us of this," I said as Adrian pulled his phone out and called to make sure the jet was ready to leave as soon as we got to the private airport. I hung up and looked at my friend as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket with the address.

"Do you think it is her?" I asked him, my voice low, even I could hear the hope that filled it.

"I don’t want to get my hopes up." He muttered. "But there are too many similarities. Purple eyes, white hair, her birthday, she's 21."

"Are you going to tell your father and brothers?" I asked him.

"Not yet. Let's see her first, again, hopes and all that shit." He said. I nodded. 

"I need to tell my father." He nodded, and I picked up my phone and hit a speed dial number.

"Dimitri." My father growled down the phone.

"Dad, we have a lead on the White Dove." The phone line was silent. For a moment, I was certain he had hung up "Dad?"

"Where is she?" He asked, his voice now a whisper.

"London, we think," I said. "Adrian and I are going to take the Jet and check her out. Keep it to the three of us for now in case it’s another dead end."

"It's her." He said. "I feel it in my gut. let me know as soon as you know."

"I will, Father," I said. “Also, whilst I’m on the plane, can you get me all the information on a British Judge called Julian Granger the Third, apparently he is a dukes son.”

“Who is he?” My father asked. His tone suggested he didn't understand how this was more important than the white dove.

“If it’s the White Dove, he needs to disappear,” I said, my voice full of disdain. My father knew what that meant when my tone changed like this, and he knew I meant business.

“You will have all the information when you land. Now go.” He responded. I hung up and grabbed my coat, leaving the office with Adrien.

“James, cancel all my meeting for the next week, I have somewhere important to be,” I shouted as I walked past my assistant.

“Yes sir.” He shouted after my retreating figure; you could hear the confusion in his tone.

Our White dove would be home before the end of the day if I had my way.