Page 22 of Deadly Offer

“There isn’t.” The certainty in Nikon’s voice surprised even him. Deep down, he already knew the truth. Had known it since they’d found the first discrepancies. He just hadn’t wanted to face it.

Nikon’s thoughts drifted to childhood summers, when he and Andrey would sneak away from Grigorii’s watchful eye to swim in the lake near their dacha. Andrey had always been the daring one, jumping from higher rocks, swimming to the far shore without stopping.

Once, Andrey had gotten caught in a sudden undertow. Nikon had dived in without hesitation, dragging his thrashing brother to safety. After they’d lain on the shore, gasping and laughing, Andrey punched his shoulder in thanks. “Always so serious, Niki,” he’d said. “Always saving me.”

Nikon’s throat tightened. He’d saved Andrey from the water that day. From their father’s belt countless times after. From overdose twice in the last five years. But this? Could he save his brother from this?

When had that changed? When had his brother’s recklessness turned from boyish adventure to treachery?

“You know,” Reuben broke the silence, “when all this is over, we should consider a vacation. Somewhere with better scenery than abandoned warehouses and poker rooms.”

“Is now really the time for travel plans?” Nikon arched an eyebrow, though something in his chest loosened at Reuben’s casual tone.

“Just trying to give you something to look forward to.” Reuben tapped his fingers against the windowsill, eyes never leaving the loading dock. “Better than watching you brood over there like some caped Russian avenger.”

Despite everything, a smile tugged at Nikon’s lips. This ridiculous American with his pop culture references at the most inappropriate moments. “If anyone would be wearing a cape in this relationship, it wouldn’t be me.”

The smile felt foreign on his face, yet necessary. A moment of lightness in the dark frustration Andrey had created. Leave it to Reuben to know exactly when to offer it.

“Movement.” Stepan’s sharp word cut through their banter. “Southeast approach road.”

Nikon snapped back to focus, checking the time. Forty-seven minutes since they’d taken position. Right on schedule.

A black SUV approached slowly along the access road, headlights off despite the gathering dusk. It pulled to a stop near the stacks of pallets, partially hidden from the main road.

“That’s Vasily.” Nikon recognized Dmitrii’s lieutenant immediately as the man stepped from the SUV. “And the other one—”

“Daniil.” Reuben’s voice was flat. “One of Andrey’s men who played in those poker games.”

Nikon’s camera clicked quietly as he documented the meeting. Each photo was another nail in his brother’s coffin.

The men moved with purpose, Daniil leading Vasily toward a side entrance of the warehouse—exactly where the fabricated documents had indicated the shipment would be stored.

“They’re expecting to find weapons that don’t exist.” Nikon watched as Daniil tried the door, found it locked, then beganexamining the other entrances. “A shipment that was only mentioned in documents I made sure only Andrey would see.”

“What more proof do you need?” Reuben’s question was soft, almost gentle.

“None.” The word felt like a weight dropping through his chest, settling somewhere near his stomach.

They watched in silence as the men circled the warehouse, growing increasingly agitated as they found no way in, no sign of the promised weapons. Eventually, Vasily made a call, gesturing emphatically as he spoke. Even from a distance, his anger was evident.

“They’re leaving.” Stepan observed as the men returned to their vehicle. “Want me to follow?”

“No.” Nikon lowered his camera. “We have what we need.”

After the SUV disappeared down the access road, the three men remained in the observation room for another fifteen minutes, ensuring no one else would arrive. Finally, Nikon nodded to Stepan.

“Take a different route back. I don’t want anyone connecting you to this location.”

Stepan nodded once, a soldier receiving orders. “And you, boss?”

“We’ll follow shortly.” Nikon’s tone dismissed further questions.

When Stepan had gone, Nikon turned to Reuben, allowing his carefully maintained facade to crack slightly. The weight of what they’d witnessed pressed down on him, making each breath an effort.

“Andrey is working with Dmitrii.” Saying it aloud made it real in a way the evidence hadn’t. Nikon’s hand pressed against the wall, not for support, but as if containing the force of his anger within the concrete beneath his palm. “My brother is betraying the family.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. His own fleshand blood was now jeopardizing everything their family had built.

“What will you do?” Reuben stepped closer, close enough that Nikon could feel his warmth in the chilly room.

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