Page 39 of Deadly Legacy
“I told you, I thought they were legitimate investors. By the time I figured out who Dmitrii really was...” Wallace ran a handthrough his silver hair, the perfectly coiffed strands falling out of place just like his life had. “I was already in too deep.”
The sound of bottles clinking made them both freeze. Footsteps moved slowly through the adjacent aisle.
Reuben signaled silently, pointing to himself and then toward the sound. Wallace shook his head frantically, eyes wide with alarm.
Ignoring him, Reuben moved—positioning exactly as Stepan had drilled into him. He rounded the corner and struck in one fluid motion. The man collapsed without a sound.
Wallace gaped at his son. “Where the hell did you learn that?”
“I’ve had a good teacher.” Reuben grabbed the fallen man’s weapon and checked the safety. “Keep talking. What’s Dmitrii’s angle with Quantize Guard?”
“The surveillance system.” Wallace’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Their facial recognition software blows everything else away. With that technology, Dmitrii could track anyone in the city.”
“Including Nikon and his brothers,” Reuben concluded.
“Listen to me—stay away from Nikon Matvei.” Wallace grabbed Reuben’s sleeve. “That man’s dangerous. His whole family is nothing but criminals.”
Reuben rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks for the heads-up. Hadn’t noticed.”
Wallace’s face darkened. “You’re playing with fire, Reuben. These people aren’t like us.”
“These people?” Reuben’s laugh came out harsh and brittle. “You mean unlike the father who kicked me out when I came out? Who made sure no financial firm in the city would touch me?”
A crash echoed from the far end of the wine cellar, cutting their argument short. The sound of heavy boots stomping on broken glass carried through the stillness.
Wallace gripped Reuben’s arm. “There’s another exit through the kitchen storage. We need to move.”
They crept between the racks, the rich scent of aged oak and cork filling Reuben’s nostrils as they moved deeper into the cellar. Something shifted to their left—a shadow where there shouldn’t be one.
“Down,” he hissed, pulling Wallace behind a stack of crates as a flashlight beam cut through the darkness where they’d been standing seconds before.
Wallace’s breathing came too fast and too shallow. Reuben pressed a hand against his father’s chest, a steadying gesture that felt strange after years of distance. The rapid heartbeat beneath his palm reminded him that beneath the polished exterior, his father was just a man.
“Dmitrii’s been planning this for months,” Wallace whispered, his voice barely audible over the drip of condensation from the ceiling pipes. “The charity gala next week is his big move. Half the city’s power players will be there.”
“And you’re on the guest list?”
“Me and Charlotte both.” Wallace’s voice broke slightly. “He collects people and their connections. That’s his strength.”
“Like how you used yours to make sure I couldn’t get hired?” Reuben couldn’t keep the edge from his voice.
Wallace winced. “I thought I was protecting our reputation.”
“You were punishing me for not being the son you wanted.”
The beam of light swept closer. Reuben held up a hand for silence and weighed their options. The exit Wallace mentioned stood twenty feet away, but with no cover between here and there. They needed a diversion.
“When I count three, run for that door,” Reuben whispered, nodding toward the kitchen entrance. “Don’t stop, no matter what happens.”
Before Wallace could protest, Reuben grabbed a bottle and hurled it toward the opposite end of the cellar. Glass shattered against stone with a spectacular crash.
“One, two, three.”
They sprinted for the door as shouts erupted behind them. Reuben pushed at Wallace’s back, propelling him forward as heavy footsteps thundered in pursuit.
The kitchen door gave way under their combined weight. They stumbled into the bright space, the sudden light stinging Reuben’s eyes after the cellar’s darkness. A chef turned, knife in hand, eyebrows shooting upward.
“Private wine selection,” Wallace announced with sudden composure, his voice steady despite his disheveled appearance. “Sorry for the interruption.”
