Page 42 of Deadly Legacy
“And you believe your father now?” Grigorii’s voice carried doubt.
Reuben shook his head. “I believe his fear.” Reuben crossed to the desk, his fingers brushing Nikon’s arm in passing. The brief touch sent warmth through Nikon’s tense muscles. “He gave me this.” Reuben pulled a black notebook from inside his jacket. “Every transaction Dmitrii forced him into. Dates, amounts, contacts—everything.”
Stepan entered without knocking, his massive frame filling the doorway. “Security sweep complete. Compound is clean. No surveillance devices found.”
“Good.” Nikon’s shoulders relaxed. “The warehouse attacks?”
“Stopped thirty minutes ago. Minimal damage.” Stepan folded his hands behind his back. “Just as we thought. They weren’t trying to get in, just making noise.”
“As Reuben said, a mere distraction.” Alexei held up his tablet, showing them the blueprint of the Grand Ballroom wherethe charity gala would be held. “Matthew Capital has a corporate box overlooking the main floor. Perfect vantage point.”
“For what?” Grigorii turned from the window, his large hands clasping behind his back. “What exactly are you proposing?”
Nikon paced the length of the desk, energy coiling through his muscles despite his exhaustion. “We take him out. Clean. Professional. And end this before it goes any further.”
Grigorii’s hand slammed down on the desk, rattling the crystal decanters. “Not at the gala. I won’t have it.”
“Why not?” Tension rippled across Nikon’s features. “One clean shot and this ends.”
“And starts something worse.” Grigorii’s voice filled the room without raising it. Light glinted off his gold watch as he gestured toward the window. “The mayor, the police commissioner, half the city council—they take our money because we keep our business invisible. But you take out Dmitrii at a charity event filled with high society witnesses? The mayor has no choice but to crack down publicly. Not just on Dmitrii’s people. On everyone.”
The leather of Nikon’s watch band dug into his skin as his fist clenched. His brother was right, but cold logic couldn’t compete with the vivid memory of Reuben’s bruised face after Dmitrii’s men had attacked him. The image flashed behind his eyes, sharpening his resolve despite Grigorii’s warning.
“The gala gives us another option,” Reuben said, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk. “Information instead of bullets.”
Alexei nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. “Matthew Capital’s corporate box.”
“Exactly.” Reuben spread his hands. “I coordinate from above. Wallace moves among the guests.”
Nikon pivoted sharply toward Reuben, shoulders tensing. “Wallace?After everything he’s done, you think he can be trusted?”
“Trust is a strong word.” Reuben’s gaze hardened, the green of his eyes turning flinty. “He’s a self-serving bastard who’d sell anyone out to save himself. But right now, saving himself means helping us. Dmitrii terrifies him.”
“And if he changes his calculation?” Nikon’s throat constricted. The mere thought of Wallace betraying Reuben again made his fingers curl involuntarily into fists.
“Then I’ll have been wrong.” Reuben’s voice was level. “But I don’t think I am. Not about this.”
“He does have connections.” Alexei glanced down at the tablet in his hands. “People who wouldn’t give us the time of day will talk to Wallace Hoyt.”
Nikon paced to the window, jaw working silently. The sunlight hit his face, warming his skin even as the tension in his chest remained cold and hard. From here, he could see the distant skyline where several of their businesses operated, the glass facades glittering like diamonds against the blue sky.
“It’s our best play,” Grigorii said, the words clearly difficult for him. “Wallace in the crowd, feeding information to Reuben in the box, giving us a complete picture of Dmitrii’s setup.”
“And if Dmitrii targets Wallace?” Nikon turned back to the room. “Or decides the corporate box is an easier target than we think?”
“That’s why we’ll have security in place,” Alexei said.
“My security.” The words came out more harshly than Nikon intended. He caught Reuben’s eye, saw the flash of irritation there. Nikon forced his voice to level. “Matthew Capital’s box needs to be locked down.”
“Of course.” Reuben’s tone remained neutral, but Nikon recognized the subtle shift in his posture; the slight squaring of shoulders that signaled defensiveness.
Grigorii moved to the bar cart, the floorboards creaking beneath his heavy tread. He poured vodka into four glasses, the clear liquid catching the morning light. “We’re agreed then? No violence at the gala unless absolutely necessary. Information gathering only.”
“Excuse me, Sir.” Stepan spoke up. His expression, normally unreadable, showed a flicker of something that made Nikon turn to face him fully. “I also received word that Andrey will be working at the event.”
The air in the room changed instantly. Nikon caught Grigorii’s sharp intake of breath and recognized the subtle shift in his oldest brother’s stance—the momentary lapse in the iron control that defined him. Grigorii might speak of Andrey with contempt, but the bond of brotherhood ran deeper than his words admitted.
“Dmitrii’s showing him off?” Nikon’s voice hardened.
