Page 19 of Deadly Offer

“Just thinking about what you said last time.” Reuben pitched his voice, low and intimate. “About freedom and autonomy.”

Dmitrii’s hand returned to his shoulder, squeezing. “And what conclusions have you drawn?”

“That there’s always more to the game than what’s on the table.”

A soft laugh. “Very good. You’re learning.”

Yes, Reuben was learning. Learning that Andrey wasn’t just selling out his family’s weapons shipments—he was using Dmitrii’s poker room to move the profits.

As the night wore on, each hand adding another layer to Reuben’s understanding. Money flowed through the table in predictable patterns; Andrey’s men losing to specific players, who then lost to others in an elaborate dance of seemingly random gambling.

“Another drink?” Dmitrii’s fingers brushed Reuben’s neck, right over Nikon’s hidden bites. It was a deliberate gesture, once again testing Reuben’s personal boundaries.

“I should keep a clear head.” Reuben forced himself not to tense at the touch. “Especially with the stakes this high.”

“Wise choice.” Dmitrii didn’t move away. His voice softened, taking on the warm tone he reserved for his most valued guests. “You play everything so carefully, don’t you? I’d love to see what happens when you finally let loose.”

Reuben allowed himself to glance up, meeting Dmitrii’s gaze for a fraction too long before looking away. Let Dmitrii think his charm was working on him.

Three more hands passed. The first hand: Roman’s fingers drummed against the deck.

The second hand: Williams checked his phone again, the third time in ten minutes.

The next hand: Yuri’s chip-stacking took on a focused urgency.

Each tell, each nervous tic, added another line to the map forming in Reuben’s mind.

They were all nervous. Something bigger than usual was happening.

Roman’s anxiety, in particular, had a different quality tonight. It seemed less about the usual rigged games and more about thewhateverAndrey had entangled him in.

Reuben folded another hand, watching the money move. Each transfer followed the same pattern; Andrey’s cash filtered through multiple players, eventually landing with the New York banker.

Clean money, ready for transfer.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Nikon’s message was brief:“Time to go.”

Perfect timing. He had what he needed.

“Cashing out already?” Dmitrii’s disappointment seemed real. “The evening’s barely started.”

“Early start tomorrow.” Reuben stacked his chips, deliberately letting his fingers brush Dmitrii’s as he handed them over. “But I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

“Have you now?” Dmitrii stepped closer, blocking the view from the table. “And what thoughts have you had?”

“That maybe we should continue this conversation somewhere more private.” Reuben held his gaze. “Another time.”

Dmitrii’s smile was lethal in its charm. “I look forward to it.”

Twenty minutes after cashing in his chips, Reuben stepped outside and took a deep breath, letting the fresh air wash away the stale poker room atmosphere. His head was clearer now. Now, two blocks away from Dmitrii’s carefully crafted deceptions, he was finally able to process what he’d discovered.

He had the proof now. Andrey wasn’t just betraying the family. He was using Dmitrii’s operation to hide the evidence.

Another text lit up his phone:“Car’s waiting.”

Reuben smiled. Time to go home to the devil he knew, the one whose demanding touches didn’t make his skin crawl. The one who, despite everything, he trusted.

The Mercedes idled in the same spot as before, a dark outline against the neon-lit street. As Reuben slid into the passenger seat, Nikon’s hand found his thigh.

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