Chapter 6 The Gift that Keeps on Taking
Chapter six
The Gift that Keeps on Taking
Kenji
Shock slammed in my chest so hard, I was surprised I didn’t lose my balance. Still, I had to seem calm and unaffected. “I am looking for my father.”
I heard subtle movement from my side and realized Reo had stepped back.
Amusement hit Kazimir’s face as he lifted one hand and gestured to his men.
What is this?
A huge Russian man stepped forward. Tall. Broad. Face like carved granite. He was carrying a folder—plain manila, unremarkable—and he handed it to Kazimir with the respect of a priest presenting a holy text.
Kazimir took the folder and held it between us. "Misha found your father’s location, and I must say. . .it is a very clever one. I doubt you will be able to find your father on your own."
I kept my expression neutral, but my pulse spiked, thundering in my ears.
"It’s all in this folder. The precise coordinates in Tokyo. Everything you need to end this war in a few hours. I have men who can assist. There would be no need for you to even get a single scratch on them."
The pyre crackled behind him. Ash drifted through the air, landing on the folder like gray snow. And I stared at it—at the answers I'd been searching for, the information that could end this war, save my people, destroy my father.
My chest tightened.
Calm down. Don’t be too eager. Remember. With these Russians, it is always going to be bigger than just criminal. There are our nations to think about.
Plus, any large business moves I made with the Russians would be scrutinized by not only the Japanese government, but all of Asia. The other criminal organizations on this continent. While I could battle them, there was no need to war with every-fucking-body, if I could easily avoid it.
Additionally, the history between Russia and Japan was written in death, dates, and unfinished business. It went back to 1904, when Russia believed East Asia could be absorbed the same way Siberia had been—slowly, through infrastructure, pressure, and presence rather than outright conquest.
By the late nineteenth century, Russia had been extending its influence across the Asian continent using railways, ports, and “temporary” military protection.
Russian troops moved into Northeast China under the pretense of stabilizing the region and seized control over a weakened Chinese government.
Then, Russia began exerting influence in Korea through political pressure, bullying advisors, and economic leverage.
Japan sat back and watched all of it.
Korea and Northeast China were not distant interests to Japan; they were strategic lifelines. A hostile power like Russia established there would place Japan within striking distance of invasion.
For generations, European empires had dismissed Asian resistance, and Russia saw no reason to treat Japan differently.
That assumption proved fatal.
In 1904, Japan launched a preemptive strike against Russian naval forces, beginning the Russo-Japanese War. What followed was not a brief skirmish but a modern, industrial death match.
Japan outmaneuvered Russian forces on land.
Destroyed its Pacific fleet.
And later annihilated Russia’s Baltic Fleet.
By 1905, Russia was defeated.
The loss humiliated them and forced the world to acknowledge Japan as a global military power. More importantly, it left behind resentment that never fully faded.
And the relationship never reset.
And the Russians never fully recovered from the insult.
Four decades later, during World War II, the fucking Soviets invaded Japanese-held territory as Japan was already collapsing. It was strategically sound, yet politically unforgivable.
The war ended, but peace never truly followed.
Russia seized the Kuril Islands, which Japan still claims. Even now, decades later, no formal peace treaty has ever been signed between them.
That kind of history leaves scars, and that was why. . .Kazimir and I could never be true allies.
Yet, never true enemies either. Just rivals who understood that war between us would be costly, prolonged, and unpredictable.
Kazimir knew all of this.
Which meant his presence here was deliberate. Russians did not cross oceans lightly. They did not stand beside another man’s execution fire for symbolism alone. And they did not recite shared history unless they were laying groundwork.
If the Lion had come to threaten me, he would have brought an army. If he had come to test me, he would have done it from a distance.
Instead, he came in person. Which meant this was not about dominance. It was about leverage.
I didn’t grab the folder as he held it in front of me. “What will this information cost me?"
Kazimir's smile widened, and at least he finally got straight to it. "The price will be a seat at your Asian Coalition table."
You son of a bitch.
The fire crackled.
More ash fell.
Next to me, Reo shifted his weight—a barely perceptible movement, but I caught it anyway.
He was watching.
Listening.
Waiting to see what I would do.
A seat at the table? No. That’s not just it.
I understood now why Kazimir had come. Why he'd dressed for war. Why he'd stood by the pyre discussing philosophy, history, and the transformation of flesh to ash.
Just like any typical Russian. . .he wants all of Asia.
The Lion had conquered Europe, had sunk his claws into the Middle East, into North Africa, and even the Americas.
But Asia had the Asian Coalition—tons of organized criminal families who had controlled these territories for centuries.
Tradition ran deep here.
Outsiders were not welcome. Not even outsiders with armies, with money, with the kind of power that could level cities.
They didn’t care about his nukes. Kazimir couldn't even buy his way into the Coalition. Couldn't fight his way in.
The Asian families would unite against him before they ever let a foreigner take root in their soil.
But if he had a seat at the table. . .if he had the Dragon vouching for him. . .many doors would instantly open and countless introductions would be made. And soon. . .he would have a true foothold in Asia.
A clear way in.
And once the Lion got his claws into something, he would never let go.
I nodded. “I understand.”
“Then, take it.” He held the folder higher. “Take your victory.”
“Unfortunately, I cannot.”
All amusement left his face. “Why not?”
"If only the Coalition’s table was long enough." I met his gaze and held it. "But at this time, there is no space for a chair."
Kazimir didn't waver. "Perhaps space could be made."
"Perhaps. But not by me."
“Your father and you made that table that you talk about. Put those chairs around it and invited different nations.”
“You honor me, but that is not what happened. My authority over the Coalition is merely an illusion.”
"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?”
He smiled, and even though he was younger than me. . .he seemed older. . .wiser. . .but that was what death did. “What grows best in ash? Hmmm.”
I raised my eyebrows.
"Everything. Forest. Empires." The line of his jaw twitched. "Enemies.”
I swallowed.
"If you survive your father in this war. . .I'll be watching to see what grows in yours."
I bet you will.
He walked off without another word.
His men fell into formation behind him, a wall of dark suits and cold eyes. Together they headed in the direction of the helicopter waiting on the other side of the island.
Fucking Lion.
I put my gaze back on the fire, still watching the area in the pyre where the folder had been.
Reo appeared at my shoulder. His jaw was tight. I knew that look—he'd wanted to kill the Lion too. Yet, he didn't speak. Just stood there, watching the pyre with me.
Soon, I heard helicopters starting up. The sound grew louder, then began to fade as Kazimir and his men lifted off.
I stared at the fire.
At the ash.
At everything I'd just let burn.
And then Reo spoke, "You did the right thing."
I wanted to believe him.
I wasn't sure I did.
But it didn’t matter anymore. The folder was now ash. My father was still breathing. And somewhere on this island, my Tiger was in a kitchen, holding together a world she didn't yet understand she'd already started to rule.
I thought of what the Lion had said about soft places having soft places. “Put more men on Nyomi’s grandmother.”
“Yes. I caught that. It’s already done.”
“Good. Nothing can happen to her grandmother.”
“Agreed.” Reo pulled out his phone. “We have other things that need to be done today.”
“Yes. But all of that can wait. I need to check on my Tiger.”
Reo smirked. “Your Heart.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “My Heart.”
“I’ll make sure she’s still in the kitchen.” He began to press on the phone’s screen.
“Hold on.” I thought of how rough this morning had been for my Tiger and me. “I need to do more than check on her.”
“Alright.”
“Call Hiroko first.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I want to do this right.”