Page 30 of Deadly Legacy
When the terrace door closed behind his brothers, Nikon finally had a moment alone with Reuben.
Reuben twisted the watch on his wrist. After a long beat, he spoke. “Family complicates everything.” His eyes stayed fixed on the timepiece.
Nikon’s eyes drifted to the tablet, where the image of his youngest brother still displayed. “Yes,” he agreed, his expression troubled. “But it’s also why we fight.”
Those words seemed to ease some of the tension between them. While neither had quite apologized, they’d taken a small step toward understanding each other again.
Nikon stepped closer to Reuben. “The Quantize Guard meetings start tomorrow,” he said, checking his security calendar. “I’ll coordinate with Stepan about rotating thesurveillance teams. We don’t want Dmitrii’s people identifying any patterns.”
Reuben glanced at him. “You’re staying out of the meetings?”
“Do you want me there?”
Reuben’s fingers traced the edge of the table as he thought about it.
“Your business insight would be valuable,” he said. “But I think I need to handle these negotiations my way.”
Nikon nodded once, watching Reuben absently twist the band of his watch. Their ongoing dance between security and independence had come to a head yesterday; not just about protection, but about trusting Reuben’s ability to handle threats as well as opportunities. The training sessions with Stepan had proven that.
Nikon flexed his hand, acknowledging his instinct to control still warred with him trying to recognize Reuben’s independence. Perhaps they’d both been too rigid in their positions.
The terrace door slid open as Grigorii and Alexei returned, their expressions grim.
“Security picked up more activity around Dmitrii’s clubs,” Grigorii reported. “New men, new faces. He’s getting ready for something.”
“Or he simply wants us to think he is,” Alexei added. “Could be a distraction.”
Reuben straightened, adjusting his cuffs. “So, we stick with the plan. I handle the business side—”
“While I work our high-stakes players for information,” Nikon finished. “Grigorii coordinates security, and Alexei traces the money flows.”
The brothers exchanged glances, a silent communication honed through years of working together.
“We may need to watch Andrey more closely.” Alexei picked up the tablet again. “You think he’s putting on an act?” Alexei asked, hope coloring his voice.
“I think he’s trapped,” Reuben answered. “And people make desperate choices when they feel trapped.”
Grigorii crossed his arms, skepticism evident in his stance. “And he chose Dmitrii over blood.”
“He’s certainly paying for it now,” Nikon said quietly, seeing his youngest brother through new eyes.
Grigorii checked his watch, a heavy gold piece. “I need to go. I promised Natalia and Samuil I’d be home for brunch.”
“My ten o’clock is waiting downtown.” Alexei shrugged into his tailored coat and then picked up his tablet. “I’ll share your elevator, brother.”
The brothers moved toward the door, Grigorii pausing to place a heavy hand on Nikon’s shoulder. “Before I forget. Family dinner Sunday. Natalia insists.” His eyes moved briefly to Reuben. “Both of you.”
After they left, and the elevator doors closed behind the two men, Reuben dropped into the nearest chair. He ran a hand through his styled hair until it stood in displaced spikes.
“What are you thinking?” Nikon asked, noticing the thoughtful expression on Reuben’s face as he studied one of the surveillance photos of Andrey.
Reuben looked up, meeting his eyes directly for the first time that day. “That sometimes people make desperate choices when they feel trapped,” he said. “And that maybe Andrey isn’t the only one around Dmitrii who is feeling desperate.”
The insight struck Nikon with unexpected force. “Different strings, same puppeteer.”
Reuben nodded. “My father’s caught just like Andrey is, just in a different way.”
Nikon moved to where Reuben sat. He crouched before him, his hands coming to rest on Reuben’s knees; a gesture intimate enough to bridge the distance their argument had created between them, yet careful enough to respect the lingering tension.
