Page 31 of Deadly Hands

“Eat your breakfast.” Nikon turned away, his expression shuttering closed. He moved to the coffee machine, his movements precise and controlled—too controlled. “We’ll discuss it after.”

Reuben picked up his fork again, studying the way Nikon’s shoulders had gone rigid. “You know, usually when someone makes me breakfast the morning after, they don’t plan their brother’s murder at the same time.”

The coffee machine whirred to life. “Who said anything about murder?”

“Your face did.” Reuben took a bite of French toast. It was annoyingly perfect, like almost everything else about Nikon. Reuben motioned with a finger. “Also, you’re doing that thing with your jaw.”

Nikon’s hand moved to his face before he caught himself. He shot Reuben a look that was half irritation, half something warmer. “Stop reading me.”

“Can’t help it. It’s what you keep me around for, isn’t it?” The words were uttered more bitterly than he’d intended.

In an instant, Nikon was there again, tilting Reuben’s chin up with two fingers. “Is that what you think? That last night was about business?”

Reuben tried to look away, but Nikon’s grip remained firm. “I think nothing about us has ever been simple.”

“No,” Nikon agreed, his thumb brushing Reuben’s lower lip. “But this isn’t business.” His eyes darkened. “Business doesn’t make me want to kill my brother for even thinking about hurting you.”

A shiver ran down Reuben’s spine—fear or arousal? He couldn’t tell anymore. “So now what?” Reuben forced himself to meet Nikon’s eyes. “You ship me off to some safe house until your brother calms down? Lock me away like some fairy-tale princess?”

“Now,” Nikon moved closer, bracketing Reuben between his arms, “we go to my townhouse over in Beacon. It’s secure, private, and close enough to maintain our operations.”

Our operations. Not his. Ours.

“And how many others have you kept ‘secure and private’ in this townhouse?” The question slipped out before Reuben could stop it.

Something flickered in Nikon’s eyes. “Two. Over the years, there have been two others who needed temporary protection.”

Temporary.The word sat like lead in Reuben’s stomach. He pushed the plate away, appetite gone. “Right. Of course. Temporary protection until the threat passes or they outlive their usefulness. Makes sense.” Reuben shrugged as he started to stand. “I should get to packing whatever clothes you’re letting me keep—”

Nikon’s hand shot out, gripping Reuben’s wrist. Not painfully, but firmly enough to hold him in place. “Look at me.”

Reuben kept his eyes fixed on where Nikon’s fingers circled his wrist, counting the scars that marked the older man’s knuckles.

“Reuben.” Softer now, almost gentle. “Lookat me.”

He looked up, and the raw emotion in Nikon’s typically guarded expression stole his breath.

“I love you.”

Three words, delivered with the same quiet certainty Nikon used to order executions or close million-dollar deals. Reuben’s heart stuttered in his chest.

Before he could respond, Nikon pressed two fingers against his lips. “Don’t. Don’t say it back. Not yet.” His thumb traced Reuben’s lower lip. “I want you to be sure. To know your own mind. But I needed you to understand—this isn’t temporary. Youaren’ttemporary.”

Reuben’s chest felt too tight, like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. Nikon’s hand moved to cup his face, and Reuben leaned into the touch before he could stop himself.

Nikon’s voice dropped to just above a whisper, rough at the edges in a way Reuben had never heard before. “My enemies watch me for signs—any crack, any weakness.” His jaw worked. “And now my brother sees what I...” He cut himself off, turning away, but his hand reached back for Reuben’s wrist, gripping it like an anchor.

The sound of Nikon’s phone, buzzing with an incoming text, broke the moment.

“Alexei,” he said, checking the message. “He’s arrived.” Nikon’s expression hardened.

Reuben’s mind raced, still processing Nikon’s declaration as the penthouse’s security system chimed. Heavy footsteps echoed from the foyer. A few moments later, Alexei appeared in the kitchen doorway, impeccably dressed in a grey suit.

“Nikon.” Alexei’s eyes flickered between Reuben’s borrowed clothes and Nikon’s protective stance. “And Reuben. I see I’m interrupting breakfast.”

“You’re interrupting more than breakfast.” Nikon’s hand settled on the small of Reuben’s back.

“As expected.” Alexei propped himself against the kitchen doorframe, hooking one thumb into his suit pocket while straightening an already perfect cuff with his other hand. His gaze flicked to the ceiling, a brief tell of annoyance in his otherwise composed expression. “Andrey’s convinced some of our street crews that the bank hit was just phase one. He’s shuffling territory assignments, making promises.” The corner of his mouth pulled down. “All without a word toanyof us.”

---