Page 12 of Deadly Legacy (The House of Matvei #3)

“ R un it again.”

The screens before him cast his features in a harsh blue light, highlighting the tension in his features. On the center monitor, Wallace Hoyt fidgeted in his seat at the upscale hotel bar, eyes darting around the room between forced smiles.

“Frame by frame after the handshake.”

The technician nodded and stepped back, leaving Nikon alone with the footage. Forty-eight hours without proper sleep the past couple of days had left a dull throb behind his eyes, but the discomfort barely registered.

What mattered was the evidence unfolding before him—Wallace Hoyt, Reuben’s estranged father, meeting with Roman Yevgeni, Dmitrii’s most trusted lieutenant.

The heavy door behind him opened with a hydraulic hiss. Only one person would enter this room unannounced.

“You should have called me sooner.” Grigorii approached the monitors, his reflection appearing in the darkened screens. The door sealed behind him with a pressurized click, security protocols automatically reengaging.

“I wanted to be sure before bringing this to you.” Nikon straightened, shoulders squaring to mirror his brother’s stance —a habit formed in childhood that neither had outgrown. “But there it is. Reuben’s father is definitely working with Dmitrii.”

Grigorii leaned closer to the screen, his broad shoulders blocking the overhead light. His eyes narrowed as Wallace’s fingers compulsively adjusted his tie while accepting a drink from the bartender. Grigorii gestured at the screen. “Look at him. He’s terrified.”

“Yet he still took the meeting, just three hours after seeing Reuben at Vasilisa.” Nikon tapped the edge of the screen where Roman sat, too relaxed for a casual business meeting.

The footage continued, showing Wallace checking his watch repeatedly, glancing over his shoulder toward the entrance. His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he shifted his weight.

“Play the audio.” Grigorii folded his arms, his wedding ring catching the blue light from the monitors.

The technician tapped a command, and Wallace’s voice emerged, pitched higher than normal.

“—I can guarantee the technology works. My team has fully vetted—”

“Your team?” Roman’s accent was thicker than he typically allowed in public. “Don’t bullshit me, Wallace. We both know who’s really behind this. Just get us into that demonstration tomorrow.”

Nikon froze the image on Wallace’s face—fear poorly disguised as business confidence.

“Dmitrii wants Quantize Guard’s surveillance technology.

” Grigorii stepped closer, his Russian accent thickening, as it always did during family discussions.

The system’s hourly scan beeped in the background, a reminder of their own vigilance.

“This isn’t some business rivalry. With that tech, he could monitor any security system in the country. ”

A muscle ticked along Nikon’s temple as he tapped the screen’s corner to advance the footage frame by frame. “That puts everything at risk. Not just the casinos—”

“But also my weapons shipments and Alexei’s money movement.” Grigorii’s palm slammed against the table edge, the sound sharp in the contained space. Grigorii stabbed a finger at the screen. “He’s trying to cut into every revenue stream we have.”

The door opened again, this time with a soft knock preceding it. Alexei entered, tablet in hand, his tailored suit a contrast to Grigorii’s more traditional attire. He nodded to both brothers before sliding the tablet across the table.

“I found something. Three more offshore transfers to Wallace’s investment group in the last week.” The tablet’s screen illuminated Alexei’s face from below. “They’re using the same shell corporations Dmitrii used for that property grab on the Strip last year.”

Nikon scanned the documents, the patterns immediately familiar. The same laundering technique Dmitrii had employed in previous operations against them.

“We should tip off the feds about Wallace’s firm.

” Alexei flicked his wrist, bringing up another document on the secondary screen.

The motion sensor lights brightened in response, highlighting the tight set of his jaw—the only visible sign of his irritation.

“An anonymous report about international money laundering.”

Nikon’s throat constricted, a physical rejection forming before his thoughts could articulate why. Not because the strategy wasn’t sound, but because of what it would mean to Reuben.

“No.” The word surprised Nikon even as it left his mouth.

Alexei’s eyebrows shot up, his hand freezing mid-gesture. “You can’t be serious. This is our cleanest option.”

“Not for Reuben.” Nikon turned away from the screens, the muscles in his neck tight. “It’s still his father.”

“His father had kicked him out and made sure no one would hire him.” Alexei’s voice sharpened. “The same father who’s now in bed with Dmitrii to take us down.”

The ventilation system clicked on, sending a cool draft through the room. Nikon paced along the back wall, his fingers brushing against the textured concrete.

Ten years ago—even two years ago—he wouldn’t have hesitated. A threat was a threat, regardless of its connections.

“We need to consider what this would do to Reuben.” The words felt strange in his mouth, concern for someone else’s feelings an unfamiliar territory. “Their relationship is broken, but he’s still his father.”

Grigorii studied him for a beat with knowing eyes. “You’ve changed, brother,” he observed, not unkindly. “Before you met Reuben, you would have shut this down immediately.”

Nikon’s hand settled on the back of a chair, fingers sinking into the cool leather. “There are different ways to handle a problem.”

A long silence fell between the brothers, broken only by the soft beep of the security system running its hourly scan. Alexei leaned back against the wall with a low sigh, his expression contemplative as he watched Nikon.

“So what’s your plan?” Alexei’s tone had softened. “We can’t just sit back and watch.”

“We track Wallace, find out exactly what he’s promised Dmitrii.

” Nikon returned to the table, pulling up a different file on the secondary screen.

“Meanwhile, you make sure Reuben’s bid for Quantize Guard is bulletproof.

Make sure his presentation already outshines anything Wallace’s team can deliver. ”

Grigorii nodded slowly. “And if Wallace becomes more of a problem?”

Grigorii’s question demanded an answer. Nikon’s fingers dug into his palms, leaving crescent marks against the skin. “Then we do what’s necessary.”

The door hissed open again, and Reuben stepped into the room. His throat worked as he swallowed. The animation that usually colored his words had vanished.

Alexei shifted uncomfortably against the wall. “I had to tell him, Nikon. He noticed something was off during our budget meeting.”

Nikon’s eyes narrowed at his brother, but Reuben spoke before he could respond.

“So it’s definitely true.” His voice was flat, hollow.

“Yes.” Nikon gestured for the technician to leave, waiting until the door closed behind him. “Your father met with Roman right after having dinner with you. The money trail leads straight to Dmitrii.”

Reuben approached the table, his fingers hovering over the tablet without touching it. “I want to see it all.”

For the next twenty minutes, Nikon laid out the evidence methodically—surveillance footage, financial records, patterns of communication Alexei had tracked between Wallace’s office and known Dmitrii associates.

Throughout the presentation, Reuben remained silent, a poker player’s mask perfected through necessity. Only the tight line of his mouth and the slight flare of his nostrils betrayed the turmoil beneath.

When Nikon finished, Alexei straightened from his position against the wall. “I think we should tip off the feds about the money laundering. It would kill Wallace’s bid for Quantize Guard without us getting our hands dirty.”

Reuben’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “Absolutely not.”

“It makes the most sense,” Alexei insisted, spreading his hands. “Clean, simple, effective.”

“And it could start investigations that could spread to Matthew Capital’s investors.” Reuben’s voice grew stronger with each word. “We don’t need to go nuclear. Our bid is better, our team is stronger. But bringing in the feds could shine a spotlight on your operations, too.”

Alexei shook his head, frowning. “This isn’t some friendly corporate competition, Reuben.” Alexei gestured toward the screens where Roman’s image remained frozen mid-conversation. “Dmitrii—”

“Is after technology that could expose us all,” Reuben cut him off, standing straighter. “I know. And I get how dangerous this is. But we still have options besides bringing down the whole house.”

Alexei exchanged a glance with Grigorii, who nodded once and pushed away from the table. “We’ll leave you to discuss this. Call if you need us.”

The two brothers left the room, leaving Nikon alone with Reuben. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken tensions.

“Do you trust me?” Reuben finally asked, his voice quiet in the humming room.

“This isn’t about trust.”

“It is exactly about trust.” Reuben stepped closer, challenging Nikon with his proximity. “Do you trust me to know what I’m doing with Quantize Guard?”

Nikon turned back to the screens, Wallace’s frozen image still displayed.

“I trust your business acumen.” Nikon’s shoulders tensed as the ventilation system cycled on again, sending chilled air against his neck.

The sensation reminded him of the warning prickle before an ambush.

“What I don’t trust is Dmitrii playing by your rules. ”

The security room—twenty square feet with reinforced walls and no windows—suddenly felt like a cell. Nikon’s nostrils filled with the metallic scent of electronics and the faint coffee-and-cologne signature that was uniquely Reuben.

Nikon began to pace, his leather soles tapping a deliberate rhythm against the concrete floor. Five steps, turn. Five steps, turn.

Reuben watched him pace, tracking his movements with those perceptive green eyes that missed nothing. “You’ve been wound tight since we discovered my father’s involvement,” he said, stepping directly into Nikon’s path. “But this isn’t just about Dmitrii, is it?”

The direct challenge slipped beneath Nikon’s armor like a blade, finding the gap between ribs. Heat crawled up his neck and spread across his face as he stared down at Reuben.

Their bodies stood inches apart now, close enough that he could see the flecks of amber in Reuben’s green eyes, could feel the warmth radiating between them.

“You’re underestimating the danger.” His voice emerged as a harsh whisper, each word scraping his throat raw. “Dmitrii doesn’t play by corporate rules.”

“And you’re underestimating me.” Reuben didn’t back down, standing his ground with a confidence that had been hard-won over the past eight months.

“We’ve always been strongest when we combine your strategic mind with my analytical skills.

Right now, you’re not letting us use both weapons in our arsenal. ”

The accuracy of that observation left him momentarily speechless, his carefully constructed arguments crumbling. Nikon turned away, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Nikon knew he’d crossed some invisible boundary in his vigilance, transforming defense into confinement.

When had his drive to shield Reuben from his father begun to overshadow the partnership they’d built?

“I won’t let him hurt you again.” The words slipped out, barely audible.

“Then stand with me while I face him.” Reuben’s voice softened, but the determination remained. “Let me handle this my way, with you beside me, not in front of me.”

Nikon turned toward the wall of screens, each displaying a different fragment of the threat encircling them. Wallace’s financial records. Dmitrii’s network map. The schematics for Quantize Guard’s facial recognition algorithms.

His fingers brushed the communications panel. The hum of electronics filled their silence until the perimeter check-in rang once. Three AM.

“I need some air.” Reuben’s voice was tight as he grabbed his jacket. He paused at the door. “We’ll talk at home.”

The lock clicked behind him. And in the blue glow of the monitors, Nikon’s reflection splintered across Wallace Hoyt’s frozen face.