Page 22 of Deadly Hands

Two weeks. The timeline wasn’t arbitrary - Grigorii had weapons coming into the port next month. Before those weapons arrived, they needed to know if they could trust Reuben’s information.

“I’ll oversee it personally.” Nikon kept his voice steady, professional. Not revealing how his heart hammered against his ribs at the thought of what failure would mean.

Andrey’s hand drifted to his gun, a gesture that wasn’t lost on anyone. “And if the pretty boy fails?”

“Then I’ll handle it.” The words tasted like ash in Nikon’s mouth. “Personally.”

Grigorii studied him for a long moment, scarred hands still wrapped around his vodka glass. Testing, measuring, the way he had when Nikon was seventeen and had just made his first kill for the family.

“Your heart’s involved.” Not a question. Never a question with Grigorii. “That makes you dangerous. Makes him dangerous.”

“My loyalty isn’t in question.” Nikon met his oldest brother’s gaze steadily.

“No.” Grigorii’s lips flattened into a grimace. “But your judgment might be.”

The truth of it stung. Nikon had always been the controlled one, the strategic one. The brother who could separate business from pleasure, who could bed men and discard them by morning without a second thought.

But Reuben... Reuben was different. Had been different from that first night in the poker room, reading people like books, and moving through their world with intelligence that was both fascinating and dangerous.

Alexei rose smoothly, refilling each of their glasses with practiced grace. “To family.” He raised his glass in their traditional toast. “And to successful tests.”

The others stood, a ritual as old as their empire. Crystal tapped against crystal as the four men clinked their glasses.

Nikon’s mind, however, was already racing through contingencies, mapping out ways to protect Reuben while proving his loyalty.

The brothers ended their meeting quickly, each moving in their own way. Grigorii walked to the stairs first, his steps calm and steady. Andrey followed, strutting with his usual tough-guy walk. But Alexei stayed back, fixing his tie, though it didn’t need it.

“You know this is necessary.” Alexei’s voice softened, losing its boardroom polish as he leaned closer. “Not just for the family, but for you.”

Nikon’s jaw worked. “I know.”

“Do you?” Alexei studied him with the same face that had closed million-dollar deals.

“He’s different.” The words came out rougher than intended.

“That’s what worries us.” Alexei’s fingers drummed against his platinum watch, a rare crack in his usual composure. “Different is dangerous in our world, Nikon. Different gets people killed.”

The truth of it settled like lead in Nikon’s stomach. He’d spent years building walls around his heart, using men and discarding them before anything really could develop. Safer that way. Cleaner.

But Reuben had slipped past those defenses somehow, with his sharp mind and sharper observations. With the way he could read a room like Nikon read ledgers, finding weak points and pressure spots with ease.

“The test will work.” Alexei’s hand settled briefly on his shoulder. “One way or another.”

Then Alexei was gone too, his footsteps fading away down the concrete stairwell, leaving Nikon alone with empty glasses and his father’s vodka.

Two weeks. Two weeks to either secure Reuben’s place in their world or sign his death warrant.

Nikon wondered which would be harder - proving Reuben’s loyalty to his family, or proving to himself that his heart wasn’t already compromised.

Chapter 9

Reuben’s back hit the wall of Nikon’s office as their kiss deepened, raw hunger crackling between them like a live wire.

The crime boss devoured him, his tongue a silken invasion that tasted of aged whiskey and sin. Those dangerous hands slid beneath Reuben’s suit jacket, fingertips tracing fire along his ribs through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Nikon kissed like he ran his empire–with devastating skill and absolute dominance. His teeth caught Reuben’s lower lip, the sharp sting soothed immediately by a hot sweep of tongue that drew a desperate groan from deep in Reuben’s throat. The sound of it seemed to break something in Nikon’s control. He pressed closer, the hard planes of his body pinning Reuben with delicious pressure.

“Damn,” Reuben gasped as Nikon’s mouth blazed a trail of heat down his neck. Those clever fingers had worked their way under his shirt now, calloused thumbs stroking bare skin in ways that made his knees almost buckle. Each touch was a claim, a promise, a threat of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

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