Page 7 of Deadly Hands

The words slipped out before he could stop them. Stupid. So stupid to show defiance now.

But instead of anger, appreciation flickered in Nikon’s eyes.

“Clever and brave.” He reached down, fingers ghosting along Reuben’s cheek. “Or perhaps just desperate enough to be reckless.”

Behind them, Andrey muttered something that sounded distinctly unimpressed.

“The proposition is simple.” Nikon’s hand dropped to his side. “You work for me. Play in my games. Help ensure the house always wins big—but subtly. Skillfully.” His eyes gleamed. “The way you played tonight, before we knew about the stolen stake.”

Work for him.The words seemed to echo in Reuben’s head, bouncing off memories of rejection emails and dwindling bank accounts.

“And if I refuse?”

“Then you can work off your debt...” Nikon’s gaze traveled down Reuben’s body with particular slowness. “In other ways.”

Heat flooded Reuben’s face. The implication was clear—and horrifyingly tempting in a way he refused to examine.

“You’re blushing.” Nikon’s voice dropped lower, meant only for Reuben’s ears. “Interesting.”

“I’ll take the poker.” The words rushed out too fast, too desperate.

“Are you sure?” Nikon leaned closer, his cologne overwhelming Reuben’s senses. “The other option could be... mutually beneficial.”

Reuben’s heart hammered against his ribs. This close, he could see the flecks of darker blue in Nikon’s eyes. In another life, another situation...

“The poker,” he repeated, firmer this time. “Please.”

“As you wish.” Nikon straightened, adjusting his cuffs. “For now.”

The added words sent another shiver through Reuben’s body—fear or anticipation. He couldn’t tell anymore.

“Disappointing.” Andrey’s voice dripped with mock sadness. “I was hoping to see how far your... expensive tastes... went, brother.”

“Now, now.” Nikon’s smile carried an edge sharp enough to cut. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Reuben’s knees ached against the concrete as Nikon circled behind him. The guards still held Reuben’s arms, but their grip had loosened slightly—as if they too understood that physical restraints were now the least of Reuben’s bonds.

“Let him go.” Nikon’s command carried quiet authority.

The moment the guards’ hands left his arms, Reuben nearly collapsed. Only pride kept him upright, kneeling on the cold floor.

“Stand up.”

Reuben’s legs shook as he obeyed, his body protesting after what felt like hours on the concrete. He forced himself not to look at Corey, who had gone suspiciously quiet.

“Your first game is tomorrow night.” Nikon moved back into view, producing a business card from his jacket pocket. “This address. Nine PM sharp.” He held out the card, waiting until Reuben’s trembling fingers took it. “Dress appropriately.”

The card was thick, expensive stock. Just two lines of elegant text—an address in the city’s financial district, and a phone number.

“What...” Reuben cleared his throat, tried again. “What stakes?”

“Concerned about the buy-in?” Nikon’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t be. The house will stake you.” A pause heavy with meaning. “After all, you’re playing with our money now. Officially.”

More debt. More obligation. But what choice did he have?

“And Corey?” The words slipped out before Reuben could stop them.

Andrey’s laugh held no humor. “Worried about your friend?” He nudged Corey with his shoe, earning a weak groan. “Don’t be. We’ll takeverygood care of him.”

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