Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 66993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“Perhaps, you’re correct. . .Dragon.” Kazimir reached into his coat with slow precision, pulled out a thick cigar, and rolled it between his fingers like a loaded weapon.
“I have many ears and eyes in Tokyo,” he said, not looking at me yet. “They hear things. They see things. They run back to me like good little dogs and give a report.”
He placed the cigar between his lips.
Yuri tilted forward without being asked, struck a matte black lighter, and held the flame steady.
Kazimir leaned into the fire, his eyes finally locking with mine over the flickering flame. And then he did a single drag of the cigar until the tip glowed. He leaned back and smoke curled around his face like a serpent. “Lately. . .the news from my good little dogs has been smelling like rot. It is the stench of decay. Putrid.”
My brow furrowed slightly.
Hiro caught it.
I would need my brother to find the Lion’s spies in Tokyo, those fucking rats slipping through the cracks of my empire. And when Hiro did? I would cut out those rats’ eyes and ears.
“For example,” Kazimir blew out cigar smoke. “I’ve been told that the Dragon does not like my new shipment prices. Especially the security fee.”
He is truly insane.
Reo had been right on his guesses. The Lion hadn’t flown to Tokyo just to eat sushi off a naked woman. He came here because he’d heard whispers about that measly twenty percent. A small fraction of drug shipments we’d quietly rerouted through the French.
Just twenty fucking percent.
A little test.
A safety net.
But also, apparently, a huge slap to the Lion’s pride.
For Kazimir Solonik, twenty percent might as well have been treason because he’d crossed the damned ocean to sit in my city and bitch about it.
Now what?
I’d tried to slide one past him but he’d sniffed it out, like a fucking lion drawn to the scent of betrayal.
I should’ve known better with this pyscho.
So now I had to fix this.
If it was one thing I knew about him, it was that Kazimir appreciated a lot of things—violence, theater, his damned metaphors—but what he respected most was the truth.
I uncrossed my arms and leaned forward. There was no apology in my voice—only clarity. “Your numbers are bloated. Too high. And the security fee? An extra cost for the same dirt and danger that others would easily deal with for free to get the product to me.”
Reo stirred next to me.
Kazimir smiled like I’d told a joke. “My prices are too high?”
“Yes.”
“You must make peace with that fact.”
Rage rose within me.
“What else can I tell you, my friend?” Kazimir flicked cigar ash on the table. It landed an inch from the woman’s thigh. “Light a candle. Make an offering. Fucking pray if necessary. But unless your gods are willing to bleed for you, the price remains the same.”
The line of my jaw twitched.
Kazimir exhaled smoke and the wisps coiled upward.
“Make peace with my very generous pricing because if you don’t. . .” He pointed the glowing cigar’s tip at me. “. . .the price will go up.”
Behind me, I felt it, my Claws and Fangs bristling with rage, barely contained behind their tailored suits and tactical restraint. Their bodies were still but their energy wasn’t. They damn sure weren’t used to anyone talking to me that way.
And with that, a crackle moved through the room, a collective readiness to pounce.
Across from us, Kazimir’s men shifted too—thirty Bratva soldiers flexing fingers near triggers, their weight shifting onto the balls of their feet.
It was a room full of violent soldiers on the brink of an all-out battle.
I steadied my voice, even as more rage needled just beneath the surface. “When your uncle Igor sat on the throne, he understood that holding onto power wasn’t just about who bleeds. It’s about who stands beside you when blood is being spilled. Allies in this game aren’t ornaments, Kazimir. They’re treasure and they’re to be respected.”
For a second, silence.
Then Kazimir chuckled, low and cold. “Compromise? Diplomacy? Allies? I know these words but I have no need to study them. Even more important, in this moment, I am not the student.”
He flicked ash again. It fell on the edge of a fine silk napkin. The embers sizzled faintly, biting into the fabric like acid.
I spoke through clenched teeth. “Igor also knew the power of respect.”
“Yet I am in power now. And there is no one for me to respect.” Kazimir studied me across the table and his cold expression dared me to lunge, to start a war that neither of us could stop.
Then, with that same condescension, he looked up again at the ceiling. “Lions and Dragons.”
He lowered his view and this time, his focus landed squarely on Reo. “The Dragon’s Roar.”
Reo didn’t flinch.
Kazimir chuckled, then turned his full gaze toward me. “A dragon’s roar is very loud. But tell me. . .have you ever heard a lion roar?”