Page 14 of Deadly Legacy
“Several things,” Nikon replied, his foot finding Reuben’s under the table. “The steak is justoneof them.”
Reuben cut into his meat, the knife slicing through with minimal resistance. “Focus on your dinner, Nikon. You’ll need the energy for later.”
“Is that a promise?” Nikon’s hand found Reuben’s thigh under the table, his touch light but intentional.
“It might be.” Reuben’s voice remained steady, but Nikon caught the slight dilation of his pupils. “But only if you behave yourself in public.”
Nikon’s fingers inched higher up Reuben’s leg. “No one can see under the tablecloth.”
“We’re in a five-star restaurant,” Reuben protested, though he made no move to remove Nikon’s hand.
“Which makes it more exciting.” Nikon leaned forward, the spicy notes of his cologne mingling with the savory aroma of their meal. “Don’t you think?”
Reuben’s breath caught as Nikon’s hand slid higher. “You’re impossible.”
“You love it.” Nikon’s thumb traced circles on the inside of Reuben’s thigh, nearing his groin.
“Maybe I do.” Reuben shifted slightly, granting better access. His voice lowered. “But if you make me cause a scene...”
“I’ll be very discreet,” Nikon promised, his fingers reaching for the zipper of Reuben’s trousers.
Just as he was about to go further, Nikon noticed Reuben’s hand pause midway to his wineglass. Nothing obvious—just a momentary hesitation anyone else would miss. Then Reuben reached across the table, taking Nikon’s other hand in a gesture that looked affectionate but felt deliberate.
“Don’t react,” Reuben said softly, his voice steady but his eyes communicating something entirely different. “Two men, different tables. One at your four o’clock, one at my seven. They’ve been watching us since the appetizers.”
Nikon squeezed Reuben’s hand, acknowledging the message while resisting the urge to turn and look. “Perhaps they’re enjoying the show,” he suggested, his thumb brushing Reuben’s wrist where he could feel the pulse beating slightly faster than normal.
“Maybe,” Reuben smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. “Except the man at the bar just touched his ear. Classic sign of an earpiece.”
Pride surged through Nikon. A year ago, Reuben wouldn’t have noticed these details. Now he spotted them without effort. “What’s your assessment?”
“Three men, coordinated, professional positioning. Not random, they’re too disciplined.” Reuben released Nikon’s hand and casually picked up his fork. “I’m thinking they could be Dmitrii’s men?”
“Agreed.” Nikon took a sip of wine, using the motion to scan the room. “Options?”
“Main exit is by the hostess stand. One of them has positioned himself near it.” Reuben deliberately dropped his napkin, bending to retrieve it. “No visible weapons, but that doesn’t mean they’re not armed.”
“Kitchen exit?”
“Too obvious.” Reuben cut into his steak, the knife slicing cleanly through. “But the terrace has a service entrance. And isn’t that one of Alexei’s security people working the bar?”
Nikon glanced over, recognizing Bronislav’s profile. “Good eye. Alexei must have added extra coverage without telling me.”
They maintained their conversation, voices normal, expressions relaxed, while planning their exit through subtle signals developed during Reuben’s training. Nikon shifted his chair, angling his body to shield Reuben from the nearest watcher.
The situation escalated when one of the men stood, moving casually toward their primary exit route. Nikon tensed, hand instinctively moving toward his concealed weapon.
“Not here,” Reuben murmured. “Let’s try the terrace entrance. I noticed it earlier. I know that it’s staffed by one of Alexei’s men.”
Nikon signaled for the check. “Lead the way.”
With practiced coordination, they navigated between tables toward the terrace doors. Bronislav at the bar caught Nikon’s eye, a nearly imperceptible nod confirming he’d noticed the situation. As they slipped through the kitchen—Reuben smoothly explaining to a startled chef that they were just admiring the operation—Nikon heard a commotion behind them.
Minutes later, they were in their waiting armored vehicle, pulling away from the restaurant.
“That was close,” Reuben said, his voice finally showing a hint of the tension he’d concealed so well.
Nikon’s phone buzzed with a text from Alexei confirming that Bronislav and his team had detained some men in the restaurant for “questioning.”
