Page 43 of Deadly Offer

How far were they willing to go with family, even with the one who had turned against them?

Four weeks later, Nikon stood at the back of Alexei’s conference room, arms crossed, watching Reuben wrap up a meeting with a group of international investors. The clock on the wall read 3:29 PM—the third such meeting this week.

The change in Reuben was remarkable. Gone was the hesitant poker player Nikon had first brought into his world.

In his place stood a confident financial strategist, fielding questions from skeptical wealth managers. Reuben’s ivy league education was no longer buried beneath his poker persona, but instead honed into a sharp weapon designed for corporate warfare.

“The initial seed round will close next Friday,” Reuben explained, gesturing toward the projection screen where the fund’s structure was displayed. “We’re capping externalinvestment at sixty percent to maintain operational control while still providing the growth potential you’re looking for.”

The silver-haired investor from Geneva exchanged a glance with his colleague before turning back to Reuben. “And the regulatory framework?”

“Fully compliant with EU, UK, and US standards.” Reuben’s response came without hesitation, backed by the quiet authority of someone who had studied every angle. “The legal documentation is included in your packets, but I’m happy to arrange a call with our compliance team to address any specific concerns.”

Twenty minutes later, after handshakes and promises of follow-up meetings, Nikon and Reuben were alone in the conference room.

“Impressive.” Nikon settled into one of the vacated chairs, swiveling slightly as he regarded Reuben. “A month ago, this was just an idea on paper.”

“It took several sleepless nights.” Reuben loosened his tie, the formal posture he’d maintained throughout the meeting softening now that they were alone. “But it’s working out better than I expected. The Swiss group is likely to commit eight million, possibly more.”

“Legitimate money mixing with ours.” Nikon shook his head with a half-smile. “My father would have laughed us out of the room for even suggesting it.”

“Your father didn’t have to deal with blockchain and digital forensics,” Reuben said, rolling his shoulders to release tension as he collected the presentation materials. “Different times, different problems.”

The door opened, and Alexei entered, outwardly composed save for the subtle energy in his steps and the keen alertness in his gaze that reminded Nikon of a chess player who’d just spotted an unexpected advantage. “They’re gone?”

“Just left.” Nikon studied his brother’s face. “You have updates?”

“About our exiled brother, yes.” Alexei closed the door firmly behind him. “He’s been treated for his shoulder wound. Dmitrii rejected him initially—made him beg before taking him in.”

Reuben grimaced, and Nikon felt a sharp pang in his chest. He pictured Andrey kneeling before Dmitrii, shoulder bandaged, broken. The little brother who’d trailed behind him as a kid, begging to join the older boys, was now just a pawn.

“They watching him?” Nikon asked.

“Every second,” Alexei said, dropping into a chair. “He’s feeding Dmitrii everything he can get his hands on. Trying to prove he’s worth keeping alive.”

“And our planted intel?”

“He’s sharing it all right,” Alexei said, his mouth curving into a small, satisfied smile. “Last week, Dmitrii’s guys staked out our old Southport warehouse, even though we haven’t used it since spring. And yesterday, they tried to use a set of entry codes we dumped after kicking Andrey out.”

Nikon exhaled slowly, his furrowed brow smoothing as he settled deeper into his chair. A ghost of a smile played across his lips as he rolled his neck. “Good.”

Epilogue

Three Months Later

The muted chatter of wealth and influence filled the East Lincoln Hotel’s Grand Ballroom, where the city’s financial elite had gathered around white-clothed tables for Matthew Capital Ventures’ first formal presentation.

Fresh orchids adorned each centerpiece, their subtle fragrance hanging in the air as waiters glided between clusters of prospective investors, balancing silver trays of champagne flutes and carefully refilling water glasses.

Reuben stood at the podium in the front of the room, adjusting his platinum cufflinks—a gift from Nikon that now felt like a lucky charm, rather than a mark of ownership. The same fingers that once dealt cards at Matvei poker tables now manipulated spreadsheets and investor portfolios.

Three months of eighteen-hour days, transforming Alexei’s dormant holding company into a venture capital fund, had led to this moment.

“Our competitive advantage lies in our structure,” Reuben explained, indicating the complex diagram on screen. “Unlike traditional venture funds that collect management fees regardless of performance, Matthew Capital Ventures operates on a modified carried interest model. We only profit whenyouprofit, with tiered returns that incentivize exceptional performance.”

He clicked to the next slide, displaying a timeline. “In our first ninety days, Matthew Capital Ventures has secured a hundred million in soft commitments, built relationshipswith twenty-seven founder teams, and established proprietary sourcing channels across four industries. While it’s too early for returns, our model has attracted attention from family offices seeking alternatives to conventional investment vehicles.”

Reuben gestured toward detailed prospectuses on each table. “You’ll find our complete investment thesis, management biographies, and partnership terms in the materials provided. So I very much welcome your questions during lunch about how Matthew Capital Ventures offers a distinct approach to early-stage investing.”

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