Page 13 of Deadly Legacy (The House of Matvei #3)

“ H e still thinks I can’t handle myself.

” Reuben’s voice cut through the whispered conversations and gentle classical music that filled the La Qualité Café.

He hadn’t meant to start with that, had planned on exchanging pleasantries first, but the words burst out the moment Natalia settled into her seat.

She paused, one hand still on the chair’s armrest, studying him with that perceptive gaze that caught everything. “Good morning to you, too.” A hint of amusement curved her lips as she arranged her purse beside her.

“Sorry.” Heat crawled up his neck. “Good morning.”

The waiter appeared at their table, materializing between conversations. Natalia ordered without glancing at the menu. “My usual, please. And he’ll have another of whatever that is.” She gestured to his half-empty cup. “He needs it.”

When the waiter departed, she folded her hands on the table.

The diamond on her wedding band caught the light, throwing prisms across the white tablecloth.

The faint scent of her jasmine perfume mingled with the rich coffee aroma, shrinking their private corner into something more intimate. “So what did Nikon do this time?”

Reuben sighed, slumping against the backrest. “We argued. Not even a real fight, just... he’s being overprotective again. About Wallace, about security... everything.”

“So you had a fight.” Not a question, but a simple acknowledgment of fact. Her fingers traced invisible patterns on the tabletop. “And now you’re wondering if you overreacted or if he’s being impossible.”

“How do you always do that?” His eyes narrowed.

“Do what?”

“Read my mind. I’m supposed to be the mind reader, remember?” Reuben’s mouth quirked up into a grin.

Natalia’s lips quirked into a smile. “Twelve years of being married to Grigorii Matvei teaches you things. You learn to hear what isn’t said.” She leaned forward slightly. “Tell me what happened.”

Reuben stared into his coffee. “We were all reviewing surveillance footage of Wallace.” His stomach twisted at the memory.

“Alexei suggested reporting him to the federal authorities. They said it was the cleanest way to handle the situation. When I opposed it, Nikon said he was trying to protect me. As if I couldn’t handle making decisions about my own father. ”

“And that bothered you.” Her eyes remained fixed on him, not even blinking.

“Wouldn’t it bother you? Wallace might be a terrible father who disowned me, but he’s still my father. I should’ve been the first to know.”

The waiter returned with fresh coffee. Reuben wrapped his hands around the cup, the porcelain hot enough to sting his palms, grounding him.

“When Samuil was born,” Natalia stirred her coffee with deliberate movements, “Grigorii put bulletproof glass in every window of our house. He wouldn’t let anyone hold the baby without being searched for weapons first.”

Natalia stared past him, eyes catching memories only she could see. “I was furious until I realized this was his way of loving. The more Matvei men love, the more they fear losing what matters to them.”

Reuben’s fingers tightened around his cup. “But Nikon doesn’t need to shield me from information.” The words tasted bitter, like the dregs of his coffee.

“Maybe not.” She took a careful sip. “But did you know Nikon once stayed awake for three days when Grigorii was shot during a territory fight? He personally checked every security detail when Alexei was threatened last winter.” Her dark eyes found his, pinning him in place.

“Nikon breathes responsibility like its oxygen. He doesn’t know how to exist without it. ”

Something loosened in Reuben’s chest. The image formed clearly—Nikon hunched over monitors, refusing sleep, cross-checking security—that was the man he knew.

The one who insisted on driving him to meetings despite his own packed schedule. Who texted to make sure he arrived safely, even at legitimate business venues.

“I just want him to see me as capable. As an equal.” His fingers tapped against the table, a rhythm of frustration.

“And he wants to keep you safe. Those things can both exist.” Natalia’s hand briefly covered his, warm against his knuckles. “His love looks like protection. Your love looks like independence. Neither is wrong.”

A lightness replaced the weight he’d carried since last night. Not a solution, but a new perspective. This wasn’t control versus freedom. It was simply two different approaches to keeping each other safe.

“I need to get to the office.” Reuben checked his watch, surprised at how time had slipped away. “The next Quantize Guard meeting is in an hour. This one’s critical - we need to walk through the technical integration plan before next week’s final presentation.”

Natalia nodded, reaching for her purse. “Go show them why Matthew Capital is their best option. And Reuben?” She caught his eye as he stood. “Remember that partnership means accepting each other’s instincts, even when they’re different from your own.”

The glass-walled conference room of Matthew Capital Ventures offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, the glass towers reflecting against neighboring skyscrapers. Reuben adjusted his tie as he watched the Quantize Guard team settle around the mahogany table.

The gentle hum of the building’s ventilation system created a backdrop of white noise that ensured their conversation wouldn’t carry beyond the room.

“Thanks for meeting with us today,” Reuben began, resting his palms on the cool table surface. “This is just our first step. We’ll need several meetings over the next week, leading up to the final presentation next Friday when you’ll consider all competing offers.”

Stephan Yan, the lead developer, leaned forward. “Your firm’s been around less than a year. Why trust Matthew Capital with something we’ve spent three years building?”

Direct and to the point. Reuben had expected this.

“Because we’re not just investors,” he replied, meeting each founder’s eyes in turn. “We’re building infrastructure around your vision that bigger, slower firms can’t match. And our team knows how to scale Quantize Guard without compromising what makes it special.”

Mia Adebayo, the CFO, made a note, her pen scratching against the paper. “And how would the transition work? We want to keep our development on schedule.”

“We’ve outlined that here.” Reuben slid folders across to each founder. “You keep complete creative control over your technology. We handle scaling, marketing, distribution.”

As they reviewed the materials, movement in the building’s ground floor lobby caught Reuben’s attention through the glass walls.

Three men in dark suits positioned themselves near the public reception desk. Their stance, the way they scanned the space, the slight bulge disrupting their jacket lines—these weren’t regular building security.

They were keeping to the publicly accessible area, but their positioning gave them clear sight lines to the elevator bank and main entrance.

Reuben’s pulse quickened, but his expression remained neutral. Stepan’s training echoed in his mind: Observe without revealing awareness.

One man touched his ear—an earpiece. Another positioned himself to watch the elevators while keeping the conference room in sight. The third kept his hand near his waist, ready to reach inside his jacket.

Professional. Armed. But not Matvei’s people.

Drew Davies asked something about patent protection. The sharp click of his pen punctuated the question. Reuben answered automatically, while assessing his options.

Their current room had only one exit, visible from the lobby. “Actually,” Reuben cut himself off mid-sentence, “let me show you something better. Our secure development lab has the equipment we need for the technical discussion.”

There was no need to worry the founders, but Matthew Capital’s windowless interior conference room would be more prudent than the glass-walled space overlooking the lobby.

Reuben led them to a room requiring his fingerprint for access. Once inside, he discreetly texted Alexei’s security team:

Surveillance team in ground lobby. Three men, armed.

The response came seconds later:

Confirmed. Under observation. Continue as normal. Building security alerted.

Reuben’s breathing steadied as he picked up where he’d left off, explaining Matthew Capital’s approach to intellectual property.

In the quieter room, with only the soft tap of Mia’s stylus against her tablet breaking the silence, the founders’ shoulders lowered, their questions becoming more detailed about market strategy.

Two hours later, the meeting concluded with handshakes and scheduled follow-ups. The security situation had been handled without disruption. And Alexei’s team had tracked the unknown men to their vehicle without engaging.

A quiet satisfaction settled in Reuben’s chest as he walked the founders to the elevator. He’d managed everything independently; no panicked call to Nikon, and no disruption to the meeting. Just evaluation and appropriate response.

This was what partnership should look like—Nikon’s security systems supporting Reuben’s business approach, not competing with it.

As the founders entered the elevator, Mia hung back. Her dark eyes studied him with new interest.

“Just so you know, Wallace Hoyt’s group has also scheduled meetings with us.” Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Their final presentation is set for the same day as yours.”

Reuben nodded, keeping his expression even despite the small knot forming in his stomach. “Competition is part of the process. We’ll be ready next Friday with our best offer.”

Back in his office, Reuben loosened his tie and dropped into his chair.

The meeting had gone well, better than expected, considering the security complication.

He swiveled to face the window, watching clouds drift between skyscrapers as he replayed the founders’ reactions to Matthew Capital’s proposal.

Stephan Yan had been skeptical at first but warmed to the technical infrastructure plans.

Mia Adebayo had focused on financials, her questions growing more specific as she recognized the strength of their offer.

Even Drew Davies, the most resistant of the three, had nodded with reluctant approval at the intellectual property protections Reuben outlined.

But Wallace’s competing bid complicated everything. His father wouldn’t be pursuing Quantize Guard without Dmitrii Miroslav’s backing. The question was how deeply Wallace understood what he was helping Dmitrii acquire.

Reuben’s phone vibrated on his desk. A text from Jacob, his lead analyst:

Preliminary financials look solid. Valuation report ready for review.

Good. They’d need every advantage for the final presentation. He typed a quick response, scheduling a team meeting for the next morning.

As he set the phone down, another notification appeared. Nikon.

Reuben hesitated, their argument from last night still raw. But Natalia’s words echoed in his mind: His love looks like protection. Your love looks like independence.

Reuben opened the message.

No text, just images. Three surveillance photos showing Wallace Hoyt entering what appeared to be a private club.

In the second photo, Dmitrii’s close lieutenant Roman Yevgeni joined him, placing a proprietary hand on Wallace’s shoulder.

The third showed them seated at a corner table, Wallace’s posture rigid with tension as Roman leaned in to speak.

A second message followed:

Escalation. Dmitrii personally overseeing Wallace operation now. Meeting scheduled at his club tonight.

The implications crystallized instantly. Dmitrii was taking a direct hand rather than working through intermediaries. Whatever he wanted with Quantize Guard warranted his personal attention... which meant the threat was greater than they’d initially assessed.

Despite their recent tension, Reuben felt no hesitation as he typed his response:

We need to talk. Meet at penthouse after my last meeting?

Nikon’s reply came instantly.

I’ll be there at 7.

No mention of their argument. No lingering tension in those brief words.

Just immediate agreement that they needed to strategize together.

Their disagreement about methods didn’t change their fundamental alignment against common enemies.

It was maturity in their relationship that Reuben found himself grateful for.

He returned to the Quantize Guard proposal, making notes for tomorrow’s team meeting.

The security technology that had initially attracted Matthew Capital as a potentially profitable acquisition now represented something far more significant: a battlefield where personal, criminal, and legitimate business interests converged.

Reuben’s phone rang. Alexei.

“Just checking in with an update.” Nikon’s brother’s voice came through crisp and efficient. “The men at your office this morning work for Dmitrii. But it seem’s like it was surveillance only. Our people tracked them back to Dmitrii’s territory.”

“Thanks for the update, Alexei.” Reuben tapped his pen against the desk in a rapid staccato. “Nikon sent me photos earlier of Wallace meeting with one of Dmitrii’s men at his club. Think there’s a connection to these surveillance guys?”

Alexei hummed in agreement. “Likely coordinated. The timing suggests they were gathering intel on your meeting with Quantize Guard to report back.” A pause stretched through the line. “You did good work today.”

Reuben’s screen lit up with another alert. His calendar reminder for the final meeting of the day blinked insistently. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.

“I need to go. Another meeting.”

“Of course. Meetup tonight at Grigorii’s?”

“No, I’ll be at the penthouse. Nikon and I need to talk first.”

After exchanging a quick goodbye, Reuben ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. The surveillance photos of Wallace lingered in his mind as he gathered his things. His father’s tense posture. The way Roman had touched his shoulder.

In his desk drawer, the small panic button Nikon had insisted he carry caught his eye. A year ago, he would have dismissed it as overprotective. Now he understood it as one tool among many.

He pocketed it alongside his phone and headed for the door. Tonight, they would plan their next move.