Page 51 of Deadly Legacy
“Safe. Your team got them out the side entrance.”
As they loaded Wallace into the van, gunfire erupted from somewhere in the building.
“Dmitrii?” Reuben asked.
Stepan nodded grimly. “Making his escape. Our men have him pinned down on the third floor.”
“I’ll ride with him,” Reuben said, his pulse still racing from the gunfire, but Stepan shook his head.
“You look after your mother,” Stepan reminded him. “I’ve got this.”
Reuben hesitated, then nodded, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. These situations had become almost routinein his new life. But he knew Stepan was right—Wallace was in good hands.
When he returned to the SUV, Charlotte had composed herself, though her hands still trembled slightly in her lap.
“Is he...” She swallowed hard, unable to finish.
“He’ll live,” Reuben replied, sliding into the seat across from her, his own hands now steady. “The bullet missed any vital organs.”
Charlotte nodded, her eyes fixed on nothing. “That’s... good.” She fumbled with her purse, movements jerky and uncoordinated. “I need to call my husband’s office. Richard needs to know what happened before it hits the news.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and she pressed her hand to her mouth. For a moment, Reuben saw past her facade to the genuine shock beneath.
“I can have someone take you home first,” he offered.
“No.” She shook her head, already reaching for her phone. “No, I need to manage this now. Richard’s state Senate campaign can’t afford a scandal.”
Reuben watched her struggling to maintain control, her breathing shallow and quick. “Charlotte, you’re in shock.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, then glanced up at him properly for the first time. Her expression shifted, as if truly seeing him. “When did you start moving in these kinds of circles?”
“Things change.” Reuben met her gaze steadily.
“You handle yourself differently now.” Her eyes narrowed, studying him with new awareness and something like accusation.
“I grew up.” Reuben kept his voice neutral.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “Into someone I don’t recognize at all.” She looked him over the way she might assess a new arrival at one of her social gatherings.
The moment passed as quickly as it had come. Charlotte straightened her spine, socialite armor sliding back into place. “I need to go now.” She straightened the hem of her jacket with quick, nervous movements. “Can your driver take me to the Fifth Street campaign office?”
Two hours later, Reuben sat beside Wallace’s hospital bed. The harsh glare of the medical lights emphasized every line on his father’s face. Wallace looked shrunken against the white sheets, the rhythmic beeping of monitors counting out the seconds.
“The contract was signed.” Reuben leaned forward in the uncomfortable visitor’s chair. “Quantize Guard accepted our offer.”
Wallace attempted a nod, the motion barely perceptible. “Dmitrii?”
“Gone. But not for long.” Reuben crossed his arms over his chest, a muscle ticking in his throat. “Apparently, his men are already regrouping.”
“Charlotte?” Wallace’s voice rasped softly.
Reuben turned away, studying the stark lines of medical equipment. “Safe. Concerned mainly about her husband’s campaign.”
A bitter smile ghosted across Wallace’s bloodless lips. “Some things never change.”
“No.” Reuben’s throat constricted around the word. “They don’t.”
He pushed himself up from the chair, taking two steps toward the door before stopping. His fingers wrapped around the doorframe. “Why did you do it? Take the bullet?”
