Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
"I'm offering you your father's location." His voice hardened slightly. "The Fox’s exact position. You could end this war by sunset."
"And in exchange, I hand you the keys to a continent that isn't mine to give."
"It could be yours." He stepped closer, close enough that I could see the firelight dancing in his cruel eyes.
And he didn't stop there.
He took another step.
Then another.
Until his chest was inches from mine, until I had to tilt my chin to hold his gaze.
Until his shadow swallowed me whole.
This close, I could see the hint of a scar beneath his left eye. A very pale crescent one. Old and faded. Someone had gotten close enough to cut him once.
I wondered if they were still breathing.
Probably not.
"Kenji. . .when your father is dead, when the yakuza is fully yours, when you've proven yourself the strongest dragon in Asia. Who would deny you? Who would refuse your putting another seat at the table to the man who could burn them all?"
He's good at this.
The offer was tempting.
Desperately tempting.
My father's location—the information I'd been hunting for days, the key to ending this war—sitting right there in that folder.
All I had to do was take it.
Make a promise.
Open a door.
But I knew what would happen if I did. Like all the Russians before him, Kazimir would try to push his way through that door and never leave. He'd use me to establish himself, then discard me the moment I was no longer useful.
And the Coalition families who trusted me, would see me as the traitor who sold them all to a foreign predator.
Currently, Kazimir had dealings in Japan and even small token territories. He did small business with other countries, but only with me present. The other Asian organizations feared him too much to deal with him on their own.
I want that folder, but I can’t take it. What would be the point of winning the war, if everything I’ve won goes to the Lion.
The dragon rose in my chest.
Not in rage.
In certainty.
I had fought too long, bled too much, and buried too many of my own to hand my legacy to a foreign predator wearing a smile. "The answer is no."
Kazimir’s men shifted around us, clearly not used to anyone telling their leader no. A few even moved their hands toward their weapons.
Are you sure you want to do that? You’re outnumbered by hundreds. You’ll be next to go into the pyre.
Frowning, Kazimir raised one finger and the men moved their hands and then stilled.
Exactly.
Kazimir glared at me. "I'm offering you victory."
"You're offering me a leash." I held his gaze. "A gilded one, but a leash, nonetheless. And dragons don't wear collars."
“We’ll see about that.”
Careful. . .
Kazimir studied me for a moment more, his eyes as sharp as his smile. Then, with an oddly casual shrug, he tossed the folder into the heart of the pyre.
It caught instantly, the flames hungrily consuming the precious contents. The information I'd coveted reduced to ashes in mere seconds.
One of his men let out a grunt, but Kazimir didn't bat an eyelid. He stood there, watching the fire consume his offering, looking almost. . .satisfied. "Dragons and their pride."
My hands clenched so hard my knuckles ached.
I watched the folder wrinkle and curve within the flames.
Watched the edges curl and blacken.
My father's location, the end of the war, everything I needed. . .consumed by the inferno. My nails bit into my palms hard enough to draw blood. I didn't feel it.
Anger surged through me, hot and wild, but I kept it down, refusing to let the Lion see how his action affected me.
But deep within, the dragon roared, its fury echoing inside my chest.
But that was the game, wasn't it?
To provoke.
To test.
To see how far one could push before the other finally snapped.
And Kazimir had just played his hand. It was a bold move. Wickedly strategic. Brutish. But undeniably effective. For all his civility, beneath that veneer of sophistication, Kazimir was a beast. "Your father would have taken the deal."
"I know."
"He would have grabbed that folder, promised me anything, and then tried to betray me later."
"I know that too."
"But you. . ." Kazimir tilted his head. "You'd rather fight a war you might lose than win one with strings attached."
"I'd rather earn my victory than have it handed to me by a man who'll demand payment for the rest of my life."
And with that the Lion laughed.
Low.
Genuine.
Almost delighted.
"You're not your father." He nodded slowly. "You're worse. And I mean that as a compliment."
I looked back at where he’d thrown that folder. It was now nothing but ash. And my father was still out there, still hiding, still planning whatever brutal counterattack would come next.
Kazimir shook his head. "Do you know what grows best in ash, Kenji?"
I stared at him. At the pyre behind him. At the gray flakes drifting through the air like snow. “What?”