Chapter 15
“ Q uit hovering by the door like a security guard.” Alexei didn’t look up from the documents spread across his desk, his fountain pen gliding across the page. “Either come in or leave us to work.”
Nikon stepped into his younger brother’s office, where towering panes of glass offered an unobstructed view of the financial district already humming with mid-morning activity. He refused to acknowledge being caught watching, though he had been doing exactly that.
For fifteen minutes, Nikon had observed Reuben and Alexei hunched over financial projections, heads bent close together like conspirators. The ease between them stirred a warmth in his chest, and pride mingled with the strange new sensation of loosening his grip.
“I’m not hovering. I’m assessing.”
Reuben glanced up, one eyebrow arched, though a hint of amusement glinted in his eyes. “And what exactly are you assessing?”
The slight challenge in his voice was new. It was a confidence that had been solidifying since their heart-to-heart three weeks ago, the night after they’d dealt with Andrey. Nikon found himself responding to it before he could think better of it.
“Whether my brother has converted you to his tedious financial obsessions or if you’re simply humoring him.”
Alexei snorted. “My tedious obsessions keep us all in custom suits and out of prison.”
“Neither, actually.” Reuben straightened, rolling his shoulders back. His eyes brightened, though his voice remained restrained. It was a reaction Nikon had noticed emerged whenever Reuben was holding back excitement.
“I’m showing Alexei how to reshape his passive holding company into something with real potential.”
“Translation?” Nikon moved closer, drawn by the intensity in Reuben’s expression.
Alexei leaned back in his chair. “I set this up a few years ago as a simple holding company for our cleaned assets. But Reuben sees potential for something much more sophisticated.”
“A legitimate venture capital fund.” Reuben reached for one of the documents, handing it to Nikon. “One that both cleans money and generates substantial returns.”
Nikon scanned the projections, recognizing immediately that this wasn’t merely another shell company or money laundering scheme. The multi-tiered investment structure, the strategic tax positioning, the diversified portfolio allocation—this was ambitious, forward-thinking even. It was the kind of venture that could eventually develop a life independent from their underground enterprises. A safer harbor for Reuben.
“Offshore money flowing through island accounts,” he muttered, finger tracing a flow chart. “Leveraged against European real estate holdings.”
“You developed this?” Nikon looked up, finding Reuben’s eyes on him, waiting for the reaction.
“The basic idea’s there. Getting it all up and running will take a few weeks, though.”
Alexei tapped his pen against the desk. “Plus all the boring stuff—paperwork, lawyers, banking friends...” He broke off as his phone vibrated. The casual expression on his face froze for a microsecond as he glanced at the screen.
Nikon caught the change in Alexei’s posture, recognizing the minute shift in his brother’s shoulders, the fractional narrowing of his eyes as he frowned at his phone.
Alexei stood, his expression betraying nothing more as he straightened his tie. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”
As Alexei stepped away, phone pressed to his ear, Nikon moved closer to Reuben. He hummed thoughtfully, a low contemplative sound in the back of his throat. “He finally got the call.”
“Which call?” Reuben’s voice dropped to match Nikon’s low tone, but his eyes tracked Alexei across the room.
“It’s happening. Dmitrii took the bait.”
Reuben’s eyes narrowed as he processed this new information. “There’s a plan involving Dmitrii that I don’t know about?” His poker face slipped momentarily, revealing surprise before he composed himself again.
Nikon nodded, watching his brother pace at the far end of the office, phone pressed to his ear. Alexei’s responses were clipped, his free hand gesturing as if conducting an invisible orchestra.
“After Andrey’s exile, Alexei and I realized he might still be useful,” Nikon explained. “We set things up so Dmitrii would think he was getting insider information by recruiting a disgraced Matvei.”
Reuben absorbed this, his initial surprise hardening into something more considered. “I’m not surprised by Dmitrii’s move,” Reuben continued, leaning forward and lowering his voice further. “What I don’t understand is why you kept this from me until now.”
The hint of accusation in his words sent a familiar prickle of defensiveness up Nikon’s spine. Old habits die hard. But he suppressed it, reminding himself of their promise in the shower three weeks ago—partnership, not possession.
“I wasn’t certain it would work. Dmitrii isn’t easily manipulated.”
The words felt inadequate even as he spoke them. Andrey had turned on them, but using his youngest brother as bait still left a bitter taste in Nikon’s mouth. Necessary. Practical. But not something he wanted to dwell on.
Alexei returned, placing his phone into his pocket with a studied nonchalance that couldn’t quite conceal his satisfaction.
The corner of his mouth curved upward, a ghost of a smile that soon schooled back into professional composure as he rejoined them at the desk.
“It’s confirmed. Dmitrii’s second-in-command initiated contact yesterday. They’re proceeding cautiously, but they’ve taken the bait.”
“Which means Andrey survived his wounds.” Reuben looked from Nikon to Alexei, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed their exchange. “Does Grigorii know what you’re doing with Andrey?”
Neither brother answered right away. Alexei looked toward Nikon, raising his right eyebrow just enough to be noticed.
“No.” Nikon walked to the window and paused, hands in his pockets. The financial district spread before him, filled with the morning rush of people whose biggest concern was likely being late for meetings. “Grigorii pronounced the exile. So, in his eyes, Andrey is dead to the family.”
“Yet you’re using him.” Reuben stated it plainly, without judgment.
Nikon tensed at Reuben’s straightforward assessment. It was harder to deflect than any accusation would have been.
Alexei leaned back. “Look, we’re not violating exile. We’re not helping Andrey or protecting him. Just... keeping tabs.”
“And using him to feed Dmitrii bullshit,” Nikon added, turning back from the window. “It was this or put a bullet in him, Reuben. At least this way he’s still useful to the family.”
Reuben rolled a pen between his thumb and forefinger, the motion deliberate and measured as his mind worked through the implications. Processing. “So what happens now?”
“Now we speed things up.” Alexei leaned forward with a slight smile. “Dmitrii thinks Andrey is his golden ticket. Which means we can feed him exactly what we want him to see.”
“How exactly are we getting the information to Andrey?” Reuben asked, his expression settling into the thoughtful calm that Nikon recognized from high-stakes poker games.
“Remember Kaz? One of Andrey’s key men from the North street operations?” Nikon exchanged a look with Alexei. “We caught him trying to flee after Andrey’s exile. Gave him a simple choice—work for us or have a private meeting with Grigorii.”
Alexei smirked. “Andrey still thinks Kaz is loyal to him. He has no idea his trusted man is feeding him exactly what we want Dmitrii to hear.”
“Does Grigorii know about this arrangement?” Reuben’s question hung in the air.
Nikon’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “Grigorii made it clear he considers Andrey dead the moment he pronounced exile. He doesn’t want reports, doesn’t ask questions.” His fingers drummed once on the desk. “But he knows. He misses nothing.”
“And chooses to look the other way,” Alexei added, his tone lighter but eyes serious. “Plausible deniability. If Andrey’s information ever traces back to us...”
“It can’t be tied to Grigorii,” Nikon finished. “Family tradition maintained, practical advantage gained.”
“So we need to get the balance right with what we feed through Kaz,” Reuben said, catching on. “Too obvious and Dmitrii smells a trap. Too accurate and we’re just handing him our playbook. We need to mix good intel with carefully chosen lies.”
“That’s why I’ve been thinking small inconsistencies,” Nikon said, placing his hands flat on Alexei’s desk. “Ship manifests missing an item or two. Security protocols we quietly changed last week. Client lists with a few strategic names removed.”
Nikon watched Reuben absorb this information, a slight narrowing of his eyes the only indication as the pieces fell into place.
“So that’s why you’ve been checking your phone every five minutes for weeks now,” Reuben’s gaze lingered on Nikon for a moment longer than necessary, asking the question neither of them wanted to voice aloud.
How far were they willing to go with family, even with the one who had turned against them?
Four weeks later, Nikon stood at the back of Alexei’s conference room, arms crossed, watching Reuben wrap up a meeting with a group of international investors. The clock on the wall read 3:29 PM—the third such meeting this week.
The change in Reuben was remarkable. Gone was the hesitant poker player Nikon had first brought into his world.
In his place stood a confident financial strategist, fielding questions from skeptical wealth managers. Reuben’s ivy league education was no longer buried beneath his poker persona, but instead honed into a sharp weapon designed for corporate warfare.
“The initial seed round will close next Friday,” Reuben explained, gesturing toward the projection screen where the fund’s structure was displayed. “We’re capping external investment at sixty percent to maintain operational control while still providing the growth potential you’re looking for.”
The silver-haired investor from Geneva exchanged a glance with his colleague before turning back to Reuben. “And the regulatory framework?”
“Fully compliant with EU, UK, and US standards.” Reuben’s response came without hesitation, backed by the quiet authority of someone who had studied every angle. “The legal documentation is included in your packets, but I’m happy to arrange a call with our compliance team to address any specific concerns.”
Twenty minutes later, after handshakes and promises of follow-up meetings, Nikon and Reuben were alone in the conference room.
“Impressive.” Nikon settled into one of the vacated chairs, swiveling slightly as he regarded Reuben. “A month ago, this was just an idea on paper.”
“It took several sleepless nights.” Reuben loosened his tie, the formal posture he’d maintained throughout the meeting softening now that they were alone. “But it’s working out better than I expected. The Swiss group is likely to commit eight million, possibly more.”
“Legitimate money mixing with ours.” Nikon shook his head with a half-smile. “My father would have laughed us out of the room for even suggesting it.”
“Your father didn’t have to deal with blockchain and digital forensics,” Reuben said, rolling his shoulders to release tension as he collected the presentation materials. “Different times, different problems.”
The door opened, and Alexei entered, outwardly composed save for the subtle energy in his steps and the keen alertness in his gaze that reminded Nikon of a chess player who’d just spotted an unexpected advantage. “They’re gone?”
“Just left.” Nikon studied his brother’s face. “You have updates?”
“About our exiled brother, yes.” Alexei closed the door firmly behind him. “He’s been treated for his shoulder wound. Dmitrii rejected him initially—made him beg before taking him in.”
Reuben grimaced, and Nikon felt a sharp pang in his chest. He pictured Andrey kneeling before Dmitrii, shoulder bandaged, broken. The little brother who’d trailed behind him as a kid, begging to join the older boys, was now just a pawn.
“They watching him?” Nikon asked.
“Every second,” Alexei said, dropping into a chair. “He’s feeding Dmitrii everything he can get his hands on. Trying to prove he’s worth keeping alive.”
“And our planted intel?”
“He’s sharing it all right,” Alexei said, his mouth curving into a small, satisfied smile. “Last week, Dmitrii’s guys staked out our old Southport warehouse, even though we haven’t used it since spring. And yesterday, they tried to use a set of entry codes we dumped after kicking Andrey out.”
Nikon exhaled slowly, his furrowed brow smoothing as he settled deeper into his chair. A ghost of a smile played across his lips as he rolled his neck. “Good.”