Page 48 of The Dragon 1
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.”
“Youmust 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 verygenerouspricing 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 toanyonetalking 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,Iam 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 isno onefor 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?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I have not.”
Kazimir took another puff from his cigar and then slowly rose from his chair. “Be sure you never get to hear a lion’s roar. It’s fucking terrifying. Tokyo would be in ruins.”
