Page 15 of Deadly Hands

Nikon gripped his glass harder, angry at what Gilroy was hinting at. But Reuben kept his face blank and his shoulders straight. “Practice makes perfect, Mr. Gilroy,” Reuben didn’t even bother to look up from his cards.

“Indeed, it does.” Gilroy’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And please, call me Duncan.”

Nikon set his glass down with more force than necessary. The sharp sound made Misha take a step back.

“Sir?”

“The next hand.” Nikon kept his voice steady despite the anger coiling in his gut. “Make sure Reuben gets kings and Gilroy gets Aces.”

“Want me to make the board tempting? Something to get him betting a big pot?”

Nikon nodded once. “Yes. I need to see how Reuben handles it.”

But as Misha left to arrange the setup, Nikon acknowledged the lie in that statement. This wasn’t about testing Reuben’s composure. This was about watching Gilroy, seeing how far the man would push once he thought he had leverage.

The hand played out exactly as arranged. Reuben’s kings fell to Gilroy’s aces, and a substantial pot moved across the tabletowards the art collector. Nikon found his attention fixed not on the money, but on the way Gilroy’s hand lingered on Reuben’s shoulder after the play.

“Bad beat,” Gilroy’s voice carried through the room’s acoustics. “Perhaps I could make it up to you. Over dinner, perhaps?”

Something dark and possessive unfurled in Nikon’s chest. He caught himself moving toward the door before stopping.

This was business. He needed to see how Reuben handled the situation. Needed to maintain that professional distance that had served him so well over the years.

But when Gilroy’s hand slid from Reuben’s shoulder to the nape of his neck, that resolve cracked.

Nikon stalked toward the poker table, aware of how the conversation died in his wake. Players shifted in their seats, sensing the change in atmosphere. Only Gilroy seemed oblivious - or more likely, was choosing to push certain boundaries.

“A hundred thousand dollars,” Gilroy announced as Nikon approached. “For just one night.”

The room went deadly silent.

Nikon stopped behind Reuben’s chair, close enough to feel the tension radiating from the younger man’s shoulders. When he spoke, his voice carried the quiet menace that helped build the Matvei empire.

“Mr. Gilroy.” The words fell like ice chips. “I believe we need to discuss the house rules. In private.”

Gilroy’s smile faltered at the edges, a crack in his mask. “Everything’s negotiable, Mr. Matvei. Business is business, after all.”

“Business.” Nikon let the word hang in the air, heavy with threat. His hand settled on the back of Reuben’s chair, fingers briefly brushing against the back of Reuben’s neck. The slight shiver that ran through Reuben’s body at the contact sent ananswering heat through his veins. “Let me be clear about my business, Mr. Gilroy. What’smineisn’t negotiable.”

A flash of understanding crossed Gilroy’s face, followed quickly by calculation. “My apologies. I wasn’t aware he was already... spoken for.”

Nikon should have been angry when Gilroy talked about Reuben like property. But instead, something wild inside him calmed down. He pressed his fingers harder into Reuben’s neck, letting everyone see who Reuben belonged to.

“A misunderstanding then.” Nikon’s tone suggested it had better remain that way. “Perhaps we should discuss your recent art acquisitions instead. I hear the original owners are quite... concerned about their whereabouts.”

Color drained from Gilroy’s face. He gathered his chips with hands that weren’t quite steady. “Another time, perhaps. I just remembered a prior engagement.”

The room slowly returned to its usual rhythm of conversation and play, but tension lingered in the wake of the confrontation. Reuben remained still, aware of Nikon’s hand on his neck, of the dozens of eyes tracking their every move.

“My office.” The words were for Reuben alone. “Now.”

Reuben gathered his chips with precise movements that betrayed his slight nervousness. Nikon tracked his progress to the cashier’s cage, then followed him up the private stairs to the office suite.

The private staircase stretched before them, its plush red carpet muffling their ascent. Nikon watched as Reuben’s shoulder brushed against the dark wood paneling, automatically moving aside to give him more space than necessary.

Once they were in the privacy of his office, Reuben immediately turned to face him. “‘What’s mine isn’t negotiable’?” Reuben’s voice was quiet, but carried an edge. “Is that how you see me? Something you own?”

Nikon stilled, surprised by the challenge in Reuben’s tone. “No,” his voice came out softer than he’d meant it to. “I see you as...” The words died in his throat, and he looked away, afraid of what might show on his face.

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