Page 3 of Deadly Legacy
As the crown jewel in Matthew Capital’s portfolio—a venture fund he’d help build alongside Alexei—this investment represented far more than money. It was validation of Reuben’s financial instincts and business acumen. “What kind of situation?”
“Better discussed in the car.” Nikon glanced at his watch. “How quickly can you be ready?”
“Five minutes.” Reuben resumed dressing, mind already transitioning from training-room tactics to boardroom strategy. From physical combat to corporate chess.
Nikon nodded once. “I’ll have the car brought around.”
Alone in the locker room, Reuben studied his reflection as he slipped on his tie. The man who stared back bore little resemblance to the desperate academic poker player who’d stumbled into Nikon’s world two years ago.
His green eyes had changed. Where they once held uncertainty, now they assessed and scrutinized, missing nothing. The softness had melted from his face, leaving behind sharp angles and an even sharper jawline. Two years of bruises and battles had carved away everything weak, everything hesitant.
Reuben was no longer the man who needed constant protection. No longer helpless.
Four minutes later, his transformation complete from fighter to finance executive, Reuben emerged from the locker room to find Nikon waiting in the compound’s marble-floored foyer.
“Ready?”
When Reuben nodded, Nikon placed his hand on the small of Reuben’s back and guided him toward the exit.
Outside, a sleek black Mercedes idled in the compound’s circular driveway. The driver opened the door as they approached, nodding deferentially to Nikon.
Reuben settled into the leather seat, relishing the cool embrace of the car’s interior after two hours in the gym’s stifling atmosphere. As the car pulled away from the compound, Nikon’s hand came to rest on his thigh, fingers splayed in that instinctive, affectionate gesture that had become as natural as breathing between them.
“Stepan’s training is paying off.” Nikon’s eyes wandered over Reuben’s body with undisguised desire as his gaze lingered on the places where the tailored suit hugged Reuben’s newly defined physique. “And that takedown was impressive.”
“Are you talking about my fighting technique or just admiring the view?” Reuben raised an eyebrow, lips quirking into the half-smile that always seemed to draw Nikon’s attention to his mouth.
“Both.” Nikon’s fingers traced an intricate pattern high on Reuben’s thigh, inching towards his groin. His voice dropped an octave, that private tone reserved for moments when they were alone. “Though I prefer when it’s me who gets you on your back.”
Desire pooled low in Reuben’s abdomen, his body responding to Nikon’s words. “And if we didn’t have a potential crisis to handle, I might take you up on that.”
Nikon’s smile faded. “Quantize Guard.”
“Okay, tell me what happened.” Reuben placed his hand over Nikon’s, their fingers intertwining.
“Someone’s made a competing offer.” Nikon’s thumb traced the ridge of Reuben’s knuckles. “And Alexei says it’s substantial.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. Our proposal is solid, and we’ve built a relationship with the founders.” Reuben’s mindcycled through the negotiations of the past months. “Unless there’s more you’re not telling me.”
A flicker crossed Nikon’s expression. It was gone in an instant, but not before Reuben caught it.
“Alexei has the details.” Nikon’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “He thought it best we discuss this in person.”
“Since when does Alexei get cryptic? That’syourspecialty.”
Nikon squeezed his thigh gently. “You’ve built something real with Matthew Capital. No matter what happens today, remember that.”
The comment sent a chill through Reuben’s body. “You make it sound like we’re facing a catastrophe.”
“No, not a catastrophe.” Nikon’s thumb brushed over his knuckles again. “But... a potential complication.”
As they drove through the city’s financial district, Reuben watched the skyline shift from residential neighborhoods to commercial sky-rises, concrete and glass reaching toward the clouds.
Matthew Capital occupied the top three floors of one of those gleaming towers—twenty employees and a diverse portfolio of above-board investments housed in what had started as a simple money laundering front.
The change from poker player to venture capitalist still felt surreal some days. The finance degree Reuben’s father had dismissed as wasted now served as the foundation for something neither of them could have expected. Not that his father would ever acknowledge it.
The car slowed as they approached their building. And through the windshield, Reuben spotted Alexei waiting at the entrance, tall and elegant in his tailored suit, but with an uncharacteristic tension in his posture.
