Page 5 of Deadly Hands

Reuben had always known Corey was an idiot, but stealing from the Russian mafia? That was a very special kind of stupid. He watched his former roommate take another hit and cursed his own cockiness. He’d let himself feel invincible up there in the poker room, reading tells and stacking chips like some kind of prodigy. Now reality had come crashing down, leaving him kneeling on cold concrete while Corey’s pained groans echoed off the walls.

“Did you think I was a fool?” Andrey’s accent thickened with rage. “That I wouldn’t notice?”

Before Corey could answer, another punch turned his words into a wheeze. Blood dripped from his split lip onto his designer shirt—the same shirt he’d been wearing earlier when he’d assured Reuben this was just a friendly game. Just a chance to make some easy money.

Some friendship. Some money.

“Please, boss.” Corey spat blood onto the floor. “I needed the cash. I figured I’d double up, give you back yours right away—”

Andrey’s laugh sliced through the air like broken glass. “You think this is about money?” His fingers flexed, brass knuckles catching the dim light. “You got my money back. That’s true.” Agesture toward the shadows where his brother stood watching. “But Nikon has it now.”

Cold sweat trickled down Reuben’s spine. He’d thought the money was Corey’s—part of whatever success his friend had found after college. Instead, he’d been playing with stolen cash. Mafia cash. Reuben’s stomach lurched at the implication.

“My men told me you happened to be looking for someone.” Andrey paced, each heavy footstep slapping hard against the concrete. “A player. Someone who could handle the big game.” His attention snapped to Reuben. “And, funnily enough, it was right about when your collections came up short.”

The pieces clicked together in Reuben’s mind. Corey hadn’t just been living the high life after graduation. He’d been running drugs. And now...

“Two hundred and fifty thousand light.” Andrey’s voice dropped dangerously low. “The exact amount you needed for tonight’s buy-in.”

“You still got it back!” Corey’s words tumbled out desperate and fast. “Plus what Reuben won—”

The crack of Andrey’s backhand silenced him.

“You think I give afuckabout a few stacks?” Each word precise, measured. “What I care about is respect.”

Reuben’s throat closed as Andrey turned those cold eyes on him. The same eyes as the man in the shadows. But where Nikon’s gaze held calculation, Andrey’s blazed with barely contained violence.

“And you.” Andrey stalked closer to Reuben. “You telling me you didn’t know where the money came from?”

“I swear.” Reuben’s voice came out steadier than he felt. “Corey said it was his stake—”

“Lies.” The word snapped through the air like a whip.

“Actually.” Nikon emerged from the shadows. Despite his terror, Reuben couldn’t help noticing how the harsh fluorescentlight caught the waves of his dark hair, silvered threads at his temples only enhancing his commanding presence. “He’s probably telling the truth.” Those piercing blue eyes met Reuben’s, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. “My security team ran his background while he was playing. He’s clean. A finance graduate who’s been grinding mid-stakes games since his last internship fell through.”

Reuben’s chest tightened. How long had they been watching him? How much did they know?

Andrey’s jaw worked beneath his skin. “Are you defending this piece of—”

“Nyet.” Nikon cut him off with a single word of Russian. “I’m simply helping you focus your anger on where it belongs.” He moved closer, each footfall measured like a dance between predator and prey. “Besides, you know the family rule. We each handle our own domain.” A slight tilt of his head toward Reuben. “He tried to cheat my poker room. That makes himmyproblem.” Nikon’s attention shifted to Corey. “And he stole from your operation. That makes him yours.”

The implication hung in the air like smoke.

Reuben’s world narrowed to the metallic click of Andrey drawing his pistol. Everything seemed to slow down—Corey’s eyes widening, the guards’ grip tightening on Reuben’s arms, the way the fluorescent light caught the gun’s barrel as it swung toward Corey’s leg.

The gunshot cracked through the basement like thunder.

Corey’s scream tore through Reuben’s chest. His former roommate writhed on the floor, blood seeping through his pants where the bullet had torn through flesh and muscle.

Corey collapsed sideways, his body curling around the wound as crimson spread across the concrete. His flashy clothes - the same expensive outfit he’d worn to convince Reuben thiswas just another poker game - now twisted and stained as he clutched his thigh, choking on screams.

Andrey dropped into a crouch beside Corey, his voice turning silken and cruel. He pressed the gun barrel into the fresh wound and twisted, each subtle movement calibrated to draw out maximum agony. “You. Little. Shit.” Each word fell like shards of ice between Corey’s ragged breaths. “I always knew you were a cocky bastard—” the barrel twisted again, drawing a wet gasp, “—thought you could steal from me and get away with it...” Andrey leaned in, his breath hot on Corey’s face. “You thought you were smart, didn’t you? You feeling smart now?”

A whimper bubbled up from Corey’s throat as Andrey dug the barrel in even deeper, the metal grinding against exposed bone. “But you’re not smart, Corey. You’re just a fucking thief. And where I’m from, thieves lose their hands.” Andrey’s eyes gleamed with malice as he pressed the gun barrel against Corey’s trembling hand, the cold steel biting into his flesh. “Maybe I should start with this one. Leave you with nothing but a bloody stump.”

The gunshot cracked through the basement. Corey’s scream tore at something deep in Reuben’s chest as the bullet shattered bone and flesh. Blood sprayed across the concrete in a pattern Reuben’s mind couldn’t help but analyze — like a poker player’s tell, but written in red. The metallic scent filled his nostrils, mixing with the faint acrid smell of gunfire in a way that made his stomach roll.

Through the ringing in his ears, he heard Corey’s voice crack and break into something inhuman. His friend - his stupid, reckless friend - had finally found a game he couldn’t talk his way out of.

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