Page 34 of Deadly Offer

“Scraps.” Andrey spat the word. “You gave me scraps while you three divided everything worthwhile.”

“We trusted you with the street operations.” Alexei gestured to his screen. “All of our product business—”

“The street-level garbage!” Andrey slammed his fists on the table. “Alexei gets the high-rise towers and the clean business. Nikon gets the fancy clients and casino rooms. Grigorii handles the overseas weapons worth hundreds of millions. And what do I get? Dealing with strung-out junkies and street corner pushers.”

Nikon felt Reuben shift beside him, a silent presence taking in every word, every gesture. He’d been quiet throughout the confrontation, watching with the same careful attention he used at poker tables, reading the brothers’ faces like cards being dealt.

“Is that why you did it?” Nikon asked, genuinely curious despite himself. “For a better position?”

Andrey laughed, a brittle sound that held no humor. “I did it because Dmitrii recognized whatnoneof you could see... my potential.”

“Dmitrii recognized a weak link.” Grigorii’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “A way to divide us.”

“I raised you, raised all of you after our parents died.” He gestured around the opulent conference room. “Gave you everything. We have more money than we know what to do with. Whatmorecould you want?”

“Respect!” Andrey exploded, veins standing out in his neck as he shouted. “You’ve always treated me like the little fuck-up of the family, not an equal partner. You shunted me off to run drugs on the streets, out of the way of big clients. The big money.”

The raw pain in his brother’s voice caught Nikon off guard. Behind Andrey’s rage was something more vulnerable—the little brother who had always tried to keep up, but always fell short.

“If we see you as a little fuck-up,” Alexei shot back, abandoning his usual calculated calm, “it’s because youkeep fucking up!”

Nikon caught Reuben’s eye, saw the subtle shake of his head. This was spiraling, emotions overriding logic. Exactly what they couldn’t afford.

“Dmitrii respects no one but himself.” Nikon kept his voice quiet, knowing it would cut through the shouting more effectively than trying to match their volume. “He’s only using you. Look at how he’s come between us all.”

Andrey’s gaze snapped to him, then to Reuben. His lips curled into a sneer. “Reuben came between us well before Dmitrii.”

Nikon felt a cold wave wash through him. “Leave Reuben out of this.”

“Why?” Andrey leaned forward, targeting Reuben now. “He’s the reason you all started treating me like I was radioactive. The moment he caught you looking sideways at him in that casino, I became an afterthought.”

“That’s not true.” But even as Nikon said it, he wondered if there was some truth to Andrey’s words. Had his focus on Reuben created a blind spot where his brother was concerned?

“Isn’t it?” Andrey’s eyes gleamed with malice. “He’s the one who poisoned you all against me. Ever notice how Grigorii only decided I needed rehab after pretty boy here started whispering in your ears? Before him, nobody cared what I did. After him, suddenly I’m shipped off to get‘help.’Do you know what happens to a dealer’s reputation when he goes to drug rehab?”

Nikon saw Reuben’s shoulders tense, though his face remained impassive.

“You were spiraling.” Alexei’s voice had regained some of its composure. “You were using your own product, stumbling into meetings completely high, and leaving us to clean up your mess when you missed shipments. We couldn’t keep covering for you forever.”

“I was managing fine until he came along.” Andrey jerked his chin toward Reuben. “Then suddenly my occasional indulgence became a problem that needed addressing.Do you have any idea what happened to my reputation?” Andrey slammed his tied hands on the table again. “A motherfuckingdrug dealer in rehab?My own suppliers were laughing behind my back. My street captains lost all respect. I became a fucking punchline in our own organization!”

Nikon’s patience was wearing thin. “This isn’t about Reuben. This is about you selling us out and betraying your family.”

“My family?” Andrey laughed again, that same hollow sound. “My family died the moment you three decided I wasn’t good enough. Dmitrii at least sees my value.”

“Enough.” Grigorii stood, buttoning his jacket. “The evidence is clear. The admission is made. Now we decide your punishment.”

A charged silence filled the room. Even the city below seemed to hold its breath, ten floors of gleaming steel and glass separating them from the world that continued unaware of the drama unfolding in this sleek conference room.

One of the guards moved forward to pull Andrey to his feet.

It happened in an instant—Andrey twisted, somehow catching the guard’s wrist, then his gun. The scuffle was brief but violent.

“Nobody move!” Andrey shouted, the stolen weapon now in his grip. “Not one fucking step.”

The vodka bottle tipped, then fell, glass shattering against the floor. The clear liquid spread across the polished wood,soaking into the plush carpet, filling the air with that distinctive sharp scent that had marked every Matvei judgment for years. Their father’s legacy, pooling at their feet as their family fractured. Generations of tradition, dissolving into the fibers beneath them.

In the chaos, Andrey lunged across the table, grabbing Reuben before anyone could react. With surprising strength born of desperation, he yanked Reuben from his chair and positioned him as a shield, pressing the gun against his temple.

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