Page 33 of Deadly Hands

“Oh, it gets better.” Alexei shrugged himself off the doorframe. “He specifically mentioned bringing Reuben.” His eyes met his brother’s. “Said, and I quote,‘My future brother-in-law should be there for family discussions.’”

A muscle quirked in Nikon’s brow.

Reuben barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “Right. Because nothing says ‘family discussion’ like inviting the guy you just tried to have killed to dinner.” He glanced at Nikon. “Think he’ll suggest you all share the family borscht recipe, too?”

“And Grigorii?” Nikon’s free hand had moved to rest on Reuben’s lower back - a gesture that wasn’t lost on Alexei.

“Claims ignorance of the bank incident.” Alexei shrugged. “Whether that’s truth, or a lie, remains to be seen.”

Reuben watched the silent communication pass between the brothers. Alexei’s slight head tilt. Nikon’s barely perceptible nod. Years of shared history and unspoken understanding compressed into micro-expressions.

“I’ll handle the arrangements,” Alexei said finally. He paused at the doorway. “Oh, and Nikon? Try not to kill Andrey before dinner. It would be inconvenient for the family business.”

The front door clicked shut behind Alexei, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

Nikon moved to the windows, staring out at the city below, the daylight highlighting the tension in his shoulders. Reuben approached quietly, slipping his arms around Nikon’s waist from behind.

“You’re worried.”

“Always.” Nikon turned in his arms, studying him with an intensity that made Reuben’s breath catch. One hand came up to trace the line of Reuben’s throat. “You understand what you’re choosing? This life, this family—it’s not simple. Not clean.”

“Nothing about us has ever been simple.” Reuben echoed his earlier words. “Or clean. But I’m choosing it, anyway. Choosing you.”

Something dangerous flashed in Nikon’s eyes. He pulled Reuben closer, one hand tangling in his hair. “Say it again.”

“I’m choosing you.” Reuben held his gaze. “All of you. The good parts, the dangerous parts. The parts that make burnt breakfast and the parts that organize hits.”

Nikon’s grip tightened almost painfully. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is simple.” Reuben pressed closer, feeling Nikon’s heartbeat against his chest. “You love me. I’m choosing to stay. Everything else is just details we’ll figure out together.”

The kiss, when it came, was harsh—all teeth and possession and promise. Nikon backed him against the high-rise window, the city below spreading out beneath them like a glittering carpet. Anyone looking up could see them, but somehow, for Reuben, that only made it better.

When they broke apart, both breathing heavily, Reuben straightened, reluctantly putting space between them. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“First, we move your things here.” Nikon’s expression shifted back to business, though his hand remained possessive on Reuben’s side. “Then we prepare for dinner with my brothers.”

“Just another family meal with the brother-in-laws,” Reuben quipped. “Should I bring wine?”

Chapter 12

The cork of a twenty-year-old wine bottle echoed like a gunshot in the private dining room.

Reuben’s fingers stilled against his water glass, catching the subtle shift in the atmosphere as Grigorii Matvei pulled out the chair at the head of the table. Of all the sounds that could herald violence in the Matvei world, Reuben had learned it was often the quietest ones that carried the most weight.

Under the tablecloth, Nikon squeezed his knee. The gesture should have comforted him, but it felt more like a warning. Around them, the restaurant staff moved like a combat unit, their coordination suggesting familiarity with situations that required rapid cleanup.

“Your boy’s nervous.” Alexei settled into the chair beside Nikon, crystal tumbler already in hand. His casual tone carried an edge that Reuben was fast learning to recognize–the twin’s way of testing waters before they turned bloody.

“He’s not a boy.” Nikon’s jaw tightened, the micro-expression visible only because Reuben had cataloged every nuance of his lover’s face over the past weeks.

“No.” Alexei’s lips quirked. “He’s becoming quite the asset. Though some might say too quickly.”

The implied criticism hung in the air until Andrey’s arrival shattered it. The youngest Matvei brother stumbled slightly, catching himself against the door-frame. The gesture would have seemed innocent if not for the way his fingers trembled against the wood, leaving sweat marks on the polished surface.

Reuben leaned close to Nikon, using the intimacy of the movement to mask his words. “I think Andrey’s using. His pupils are blown despite the lighting, and he’s sweating in a perfectly climate-controlled room.” He paused, catching another tell. “And the way he keeps touching his nose–it’s recent. Within the last hour.”

Nikon tensed beside Reuben. What had started as a simple family dinner had all of a sudden become something far more dangerous.

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