Page 2 of Deadly Legacy
Lifting his shirt, Reuben displayed the vivid purple bruise spreading across his ribs. “So, I see we’re going for the complete rainbow collection,” a touch of sarcasm colored his words. “Yesterday was just the warm-up, apparently.”
“You were too slow to react.” Stepan took a swig from his own water bottle. “But today you are better.”
The gym door opened with a whisper of metal hinges. Reuben felt the shift before he heard it; a change in the room’s atmosphere, in the way the security personnel along the wall straightened their spines a fraction taller. His pulse quickened without permission as Nikon’s presence filled the gym, commanding attention without a single word.
“Don’t let me interrupt.” The voice resonated through the space, each word measured and unhurried. Nikon’s slight Russian accent, barely detectable after years in America, colored the edges of his speech.
Heat crawled up Reuben’s neck despite his best efforts to remain composed. Two years since they’d first met, over a year since they’d become an official couple, and still Nikon’s mere presence sent electricity through his body. Reuben kept his eyes on Stepan, refusing to be distracted.
“We were just resuming, Sir.” Stepan nodded toward the center of the mat. “Reuben. Show him the counter we practiced yesterday.”
Reuben squared his shoulders, hyperaware of Nikon leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his broad chest. The weight of those blue eyes on him no longer made him nervous—instead, it sharpened his focus.
Stepan lunged. Reuben sidestepped, caught the arm, but this time he anticipated the counter. When Stepan shifted his weight to reverse the takedown, Reuben was ready. He adjusted his stance, maintained his grip, and completed the throw.
For the second time that day, Stepan hit the mat.
The silence that followed held a different quality than before. Reuben risked a glance toward the door.
Nikon still leaned against the doorframe, but now his blue eyes tracked Reuben’s movements with the intensity of a manwho missed nothing. The subtle curve of his lips paired with an almost imperceptible nod—that private expression of approval reserved only for moments like this—sent warmth cascading through Reuben’s chest as he returned Nikon’s small smile with a grin.
Stepan rose to his feet in one fluid motion. “Your technique improves. But remember—”
“In a real fight, my opponent won’t be cooperative.” Reuben finished the familiar refrain, earning a rare nod from the security chief.
A chime cut through the air, high and insistent. It was Nikon’s phone.
The transformation on Nikon’s face was immediate. The smile vanished from his lips as his hand went to his pocket, his face slipping behind the rigid mask Reuben recognized as his business face.
With a quick nod toward Reuben, Nikon turned and slipped out into the hallway.
Reuben cataloged the shift with the same attention he once gave to poker tells. After all this time, he’d learned to read the subtle language of Nikon’s body. Whatever the call was about, it didn’t seem to be good.
Through the partially open door, Reuben caught fragments of conversation, Nikon’s voice dropping to that low, clipped tone he used only for serious matters. Words like “verify” and “immediately” drifted back into the gym.
“Focus.” Stepan snapped his fingers before Reuben’s face. “Your enemies will use any distraction.”
They resumed training, but Reuben’s attention was split. Even as he blocked Stepan’s strikes, part of him strained to catch fragments of Nikon’s conversation beyond the doorway.
Nikon returned to the gym, his expression now coldly professional; the earlier pride and affection stored away like weapons too dangerous to display.
“You need to finish up for today.” Nikon’s eyes met Reuben’s, conveying what his words didn’t. “Something’s come up at Matthew Capital.”
Stepan nodded without question. “Cool down properly.” He tossed Reuben a towel. “We can continue our training tomorrow.”
The locker room routine was quick and practiced; sweat-soaked clothes discarded, followed by a three-minute shower that rinsed away the gym sweat if not the deep muscle ache.
Nikon was waiting when Reuben emerged from the shower. Dressed in a tailored suit that still seemed pristine despite the summer heat, there was not a wrinkle visible on Nikon’s suit jacket, nor a hair out of place. This was even despite the July heat that had half the city melting onto sidewalks.
Nikon’s gaze swept over Reuben’s half-naked towel-wrapped body, the clinical assessment of injuries softening into something warmer... the look of a man who loved every firm muscled contour he was examining.
“New bruise.” Nikon’s voice softened as he stepped closer, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against Reuben’s shoulder. His fingers traced a pleasant trail up Reuben’s chest, hovering over the discoloration on his ribs. “I should talk to Stepan about holding back.”
Reuben smiled, capturing Nikon’s hand and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “Don’t you dare. I earned this one.” He reached for his shirt off the hanger and slipped it on, his eyes never leaving Nikon’s. “Now tell me what pulled you away from watching me get thrown around the mat.”
“Alexei called. There’s a situation with Quantize Guard.”
Reuben’s hands stilled on his shirt buttons. Quantize Guard was a security tech startup he’d scouted and pursued for months, pouring countless hours into due diligence and relationship building.
