Page 36 of Deadly Offer

Reuben let his knees buckle, adrenaline sharpening every sense as he dropped his weight while twisting left. His stomach lurched with the violent movement, and the sour taste of fear flooded his mouth.

The movement caught Andrey off-guard, his grip slipping just enough for Reuben to wrench free. The gun discharged once, the sound exploding near Reuben’s ear, then twice, asbullets embedded themselves in the wall. The acrid smell of gun fire burned Reuben’s nostrils as dust from the impacted wall floated in the surrounding air.

A solid mass slammed into Reuben from the side. It was Nikon tackling him to safety, just as a final single, precise shot rang out. It was quickly followed by a cry of pain and the clatter of Andrey’s gun hitting the floor.

Reuben looked up to see Grigorii standing with his weapon extended, smoke still curling from the barrel. Andrey clutched his shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers, shock etched across his face.

Grigorii’s perpetual stone mask cracked for the first time in Reuben’s memory. The fissure started at the corners of his eyes—a tightness that spoke of decades of contained emotion—then spread to his jaw, his lips, until the facade shattered. His voice, always so controlled, broke open like a wound.

“Why?!”

The question hung suspended, raw and primal. It was not the demand of a Matvei enforcer. Instead, it was the plea of an older brother who had carried the family since childhood. Reuben had never witnessed anything so frightening as this glimpse of humanity beneath Grigorii’s armor.

Andrey staggered backward until he hit the wall, sliding down to a seated position. His eyes, wide with shock, darted between his three brothers.

“They weren’t supposed to be there,” he mumbled, his voice small, almost childlike. Blood seeped through his fingers where they pressed against his wound, each pulse pushing out more crimson. His skin had gone pale, the color of surrender. “Nikon and Alexei. At the south casino.” His eyes darted between his brothers, searching for some fragment of understanding. “You weren’t supposed to be hurt.” Not an apology, Reuben noted,but a justification. The distinction spoke volumes about the man bleeding on the floor.

Nikon’s weight lifted from Reuben’s body, though his hand remained gripped around Reuben’s arm, helping him to his feet while keeping him partially shielded behind his broader frame.

“So you admit it.” Nikon’s words landed like ice against steel, brittle and cutting. He positioned himself in front of Reuben, one hand still maintaining contact. “You helped orchestrate the attack with Dmitrii.”

Alexei stepped forward, his usual reserve thinning as he dropped down beside Andrey. “Our own peoplediedin that attack, Andrey.” The twin bond that had once connected them seemed to stretch and warp between them.

Grigorii remained silent, his rage having transmuted into something darker. The weapon in his hand had become an extension of his will.

Reuben observed the tableau before him—three brothers surrounding the fallen fourth—and recognized the ancient pattern of it. Cain and Abel multiplied, playing out in this conference room.

Andrey’s fingers danced against the floor beside him, tapping the floor even as blood continued to seep through his jacket. “I said not to kill anyone. Not family. It was just supposed to be business.”

“Business?” Grigorii advanced, gun still trained on Andrey, his footsteps leaving impressions in the clear vodka on the floor as he approached. “You call betraying your own blood business?”

Alexei pressed a hand against his twin’s uninjured shoulder. “We need to stop the bleeding before we decide what happens next.”

Grigorii’s expression hardened further. “I knowexactlywhat happens next.” He pressed the barrel of his gun against Andrey’s forehead.

Reuben caught the internal battle raging behind Grigorii’s eyes, the duty to family honor clashing with sibling bonds. The eldest Matvei’s brother’s trigger finger tensed.

“No.” Nikon stepped forward, placing his hand over Grigorii’s that held the gun. “Not like this.”

“It’s our way.” Grigorii didn’t lower his weapon. “He knew what would happen when he chose to sell us out.”

Nikon shook his head once, a sharp, decisive motion. “We exile him.”

Reuben watched the subtle shift in the room’s energy. It was the moment when execution transformed into something else. Something that, from Andrey’s widening eyes, might be worse.

“Exile?” Grigorii’s brow furrowed. “After what he’s done?”

“Nikon’s right.” Alexei moved to stand beside his older brother. “This way, he serves as a message. A living reminder of what happens to those who betray the Matvei name.”

A strange sound escaped Andrey’s throat—half laugh, half sob. “Just do it, Grinch.” He used Grigorii’s childhood nickname for the first time in Reuben’s presence. “Finish it. Pull the trigger.”

Blood continued to pool beneath Andrey, mixing with the spilled vodka in a grotesque communion. The towering glass walls of the conference room reflected the grim scene: four brothers at a crossroads, with Reuben as the unwilling catalyst for their fracture.

Grigorii lowered his weapon slowly, deliberately. Each centimeter it dropped seemed to add years to his face, carving deeper lines into his forehead and around his mouth. He holstered the gun, then straightened his jacket.

“Andrey Matvei.” His voice took on a formal cadence that raised the hairs on the back of Reuben’s neck. The words seemed to emanate not just from Grigorii, but from generations of Matvei patriarchs. “From now on, you no longer have the protection of the Matvei’s.”

The atmosphere in the room crystallized into something cold and absolute. Even in Alexei’s ultramodern executive tower—with its sleek furniture and digital displays lining the walls—they were enacting a scene as old as organized crime itself: the severing of a family member. “Your territory is forfeit.” Grigorii continued, each syllable heavy with finality. “Your protection withdrawn.” He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, his posture embodying the authority of his position. “Anyone who offers you shelter, resources, or aid will face the full consequence of Matvei retribution.”

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