Page 24 of Deadly Legacy (The House of Matvei #3)

“ L ook at them.” Nikon pointed to the news report showing Dmitrii’s men scrambling away from a failed weapons exchange. Their movements were chaotic and disorganized, nothing like their typical efficiency. “He’s getting sloppy. Leaving witnesses behind.”

Alexei pointed to another screen where a news broadcast silently played.

SHOOTOUT AT LUXURY HOTEL. DIPLOMATIC RECEPTION DISRUPTED.

“You see that?” Nikon tapped the edge of the table. “His political protection is falling apart. Just as we planned.”

But Dmitrii’s desperation hadn’t stopped at the diplomatic fiasco. His retaliation had been swift and personal, targeting what he knew would hurt the Matvei family’s interests.

While the city’s attention had been focused on the hotel shooting, Dmitrii’s men had launched a calculated attack on Nikon’s downtown operations.

Nikon walked the perimeter of the security station, the cool underground air of the bunker raising goosebumps on his forearms. Each monitor displayed a different angle of the destruction at his smaller downtown casino.

“Two million in damages to the east side location.” His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “One of our dealers was wounded. And Senator Greason will need more than the usual campaign contribution to forget what he saw. The man was winning when Dmitrii’s thugs burst in.”

The bunker vibrated with subdued activity as Matvei security personnel coordinated responses.

Two days had passed since the Quantize Guard conference room confrontation.

Two days since Wallace took a bullet meant for Reuben.

Two days of Wallace recovering in a private clinic under Matvei protection while Reuben split his time between Matthew Capital and his father’s bedside.

Meanwhile, Dmitrii had unleashed a storm.

Surveillance feeds showed his men attacking three separate Matvei businesses within the same hour—the fourth coordinated strike since yesterday morning.

After disappearing briefly following the Quantize Guard fiasco, Dmitrii had reemerged with a vengeance, abandoning subtlety for raw destruction.

“He’s completely lost it.” Nikon’s upper lip twitched as he watched footage of police surrounding their warehouse, the time-stamp in the corner showing just forty minutes ago. “Going public. Getting reckless.”

The Matvei brothers had maintained their routines; their clubs remained open, and their shipments continued to move. And Matthew Capital proceeded with the Quantize Guard acquisition.

It was all business as usual on the surface while beneath it all, they deployed countermeasures against each of Dmitrii’s increasingly erratic attacks.

“His edge is gone,” Alexei said, looking up from his laptop, the blue light highlighting the dark circles under his eyes.

“That judge in the Southern District just denied bail for those two lieutenants we tipped off the authorities about. And his allies are getting nervous about all the police attention.”

Stepan appeared at the bunker entrance, the metal door closing with a heavy thud behind him. His expression remained grim. “Sir. We’ve received an unusual message through one of our street runners.”

“What kind of message?” Nikon faced Stepan, fingers drumming against the edge of the console.

“From your brother, sir.” Stepan’s voice dropped. “Andrey.”

The room went silent. The only sound was the soft hum of the ventilation system and the flickering of screens.

“That’s impossible.” Nikon’s muscles tensed beneath his skin. “Andrey belongs to Dmitrii now.”

“Not anymore, it seems.” Stepan continued, his stance remaining formal.

“The runner was approached in the Eastern District. Andrey gave him one of our old family signals. We verified his location and extracted him from an abandoned storage facility. He’s been questioned since arrival.

Scanned for tracking devices. He’s clean. ”

“And what does my traitor brother want?”

“Sanctuary.” Stepan’s face remained impassive. “And to speak with you. Says he has information about Dmitrii’s final plans. Something involving you and Reuben specifically.”

Nikon’s phone vibrated against the table. Reuben’s name appeared on the screen, centering him, reminding him what was truly at stake. For two days, he’d kept Reuben away from the compound, insisting Matthew Capital needed Reuben’s attention more than Dmitrii’s tantrums.

Now Nikon wondered if that had been the right call.

“Bring him in.” Nikon straightened his sleeve. “Let’s hear what desperate story our little brother has constructed this time.”

The two Matvei brothers spent the next half hour reviewing security feeds and making calls while they waited for their estranged brother to be brought to them.

When the bunker door next groaned open, Andrey stumbled into the room, squinting against the harsh lights. His once-proud posture had deteriorated into something hunched and wary. The stench of stale sweat and fear clung to him.

Nikon kept his distance, studying his brother’s transformation.

Where once stood a man with swaggering confidence and a perpetual smirk now hunched a hollow-cheeked stranger.

The fresh scar along his jawline looked puckered and angry against his pallid skin.

And his hands trembled slightly as he stood before his brothers, eyes darting between them, none of his former arrogance remaining.

“So the traitor returns.” Nikon’s voice cut through the room, flat and cold as winter ice.

The door opened again as Grigorii entered, still wearing his leather shooting gloves from the weapons inspection. He’d been overseeing a weapons shipment in the east wing of the compound when security alerted him to Andrey’s arrival.

The eldest Matvei’s expression remained granite-hard as he approached Andrey, the room seeming to shrink around his imposing presence.

“Sit,” Grigorii ordered, his command sending Andrey scrambling to a metal chair in the center of the room.

Alexei hovered nearby, his gaze shifting between his twin and his older brothers. The tension in the room was visible, like heat waves distorting the air.

“You look terrible,” Alexei said, breaking the silence.

“Dmitrii doesn’t treat his partners well,” Andrey replied, voice hoarse. He touched the scar on his jaw. “Only his servants.”

“What did you expect?” Nikon’s voice cut like ice. “That Dmitrii would treat you better than your own brothers?”

Andrey’s shoulders hunched further. “I thought—” He swallowed hard. “I never thought I’d be used as human furniture at his parties.”

Alexei slid a bottle of water across the table. Andrey grabbed it desperately, the plastic crinkling as he gulped it down.

“Why should we listen to anything you have to say?” Grigorii demanded, crossing his arms. “Give me one reason not to throw you back out on the street.”

“I’m not asking you to trust me,” Andrey said, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Just listen.”

Alexei leaned forward. “Let him speak, Grigorii. What harm can it do?”

Nikon exchanged a skeptical glance with Grigorii, but nodded for Andrey to continue.

“Dmitrii’s lost everything,” Andrey said. “The casino attack was his last play with his political connections. The senator has already contacted his people to distance himself.”

Nikon walked a slow circuit around the room, keeping Andrey in his sightline. “Tell us something we don’t already know.”

“He’s down to twelve men,” Andrey said. “His core loyalists. The rest have either been arrested or disappeared.”

“Twelve?” Nikon’s eyebrow arched upward. “And where are they operating from?”

“Three safe houses.” Andrey leaned forward, eyes bloodshot but earnest. “I can give you locations, entry points. Everything I know.”

“And we should believe you why?” Grigorii’s voice rumbled with skepticism.

“Because he’ll kill me regardless,” Andrey said, looking directly at Nikon, his gaze steady for the first time since entering the room. “Just like he plans to kill Reuben.”

The fluorescent lights hummed in the sudden silence. Nikon’s expression stayed neutral, but blood rushed in his ears, his heartbeat suddenly loud in his chest.

“He’s obsessed,” Andrey continued. “Won’t stop talking about Reuben. Says taking him will destroy you. Then he’ll finish you both.”

Alexei pulled up a digital map on the screen. “Show us these safe houses.”

Andrey stood unsteadily, pointing to three locations across the city. “His main base is here now. Five men. The warehouse district location has four, including Roman. The apartment downtown houses three, mostly running surveillance.”

“Surveillance of what?” Nikon asked.

“Everything.” Andrey traced routes on the map with an unsteady finger. “He’s been watching Matthew Capital. Your penthouse. Tracking Reuben’s movements.”

“How long?” Nikon demanded.

“Weeks.” Andrey wouldn’t meet his eyes. “That’s how he knew to approach Wallace.”

Grigorii snorted. “Why should we believe any of this?”

“Because I brought proof.” Andrey pulled a phone from his pocket and slid it across the table. “His personal device. Unlocked. Every plan, every contact. I took it when he...” His voice faltered, eyes dropping to the floor. “When he passed out after beating me.”

Nikon noticed the tremor in Andrey’s hands, the way his shoulders curved inward. Alexei picked up the phone without comment, his fingers moving across the screen. His eyebrows rose. “It’s real. There’s a lot here.”

“What do you want, Andrey?” Nikon asked.

Andrey’s shoulders slumped. “A chance. Not forgiveness. Just... a ticket back to Moscow. Uncle Leonid’s family will still take me in.” He exhaled shakily. “And a chance to help end this mess I helped create.”

Alexei examined Dmitrii’s phone carefully, his fingers moving methodically across its small screen.

“This needs to be scanned for malware before we connect it to our system,” Alexei said, gesturing to one of their tech specialists before passing over the phone. “Run a full security protocol.” He checked his watch. “Five minutes.”