White Tiger Awakens
Chapter 1 – Honor and Broken Glass
Over a period of three days, seventeen-year-old Steve Savage watched his romantic dreams shattered and his structured life collapse into chaos. His star-crossed love affair was abruptly ended by interference from both his lover’s father and his own. He was forced to choose between leaving the only real family he had ever known or being disinherited by his biological father. In the end, he left behind the Chinese family who raised him, the people he saw as more of a true family than those related by blood. Steve had grown up among the extended family of Tang Wu, the gūng fū master who trained him alongside his own children. Tang Wu was more father than Cecil Savage, his biological sire, had ever been.
Before forcing him from his familiar home in Singapore, Cecil entrusted Steve with a family heirloom — a book that had been passed from father to son since 1841 — suggesting it would explain the generational connection between Tang and Savage. He had hinted at an upcoming revelation of long-hidden secrets that would explain the oddities of Steve’s upbringing — the total absence of his mother, the emotional distance between a father and his only son. Cecil hinted that Steve’s mother was to blame, that his father had wanted a different relationship, but he refused to explain before talking with Steve’s mother. There were solemn promises involved. It had left Steve more confused than ever.
Cecil reached out to his estranged sister in America, persuading her to take in a nephew she had not even known existed. He hoped she could guide Steve through the transition to western culture. Aunt Missy and her daughter Megan Fox were strangers, but they welcomed him warmly into their home. Steve felt their affection was sincere and unreserved. Megan introduced him to two of her close friends on the first day, hoping the pretty girls would mitigate the trauma of his move.
Deborah and Denise O’Bryant were sixteen-year-old twins — blond, blue-eyed, and exotically beautiful to Steve. Despite his British heritage, his prior interactions with girls had been limited to Chinese. The western twins were outgoing, confident and direct — far different from reserved, Asian girls. Steve felt an instant kinship when he discovered martial arts was also a central aspect of their lives. They insisted on taking him to American Eagle Karate, their family dojo, where he agreed to watch them spar. Martial arts were Steve’s passion. He was happy to observe their skills.
Steve felt an immediate shift in his attention the moment they began sparring, not just as a spectator, but as a practitioner analyzing structure, lineage and intent. Their stances quickly confirmed a style of Americanized Karate, but not without depth. Their movements carried the hallmarks of a hybrid system rooted in Japanese Karate, likely Shotokan-based, but adapted to full-contact competition. Their guards were higher than classical forms, their footwork more fluid. They were not rigid traditionalist fighters, as is often the case in modern sparring.
Steve noted limitations. Linear attacks. Predictable rhythm. Power-driven, but not layered. It seemed effective but incomplete. Steve also noted the extreme sibling rivalry. Denise exploited it, taunting her sister in ways that disrupted Deborah emotionally.
Denise pressed her advantage aggressively, favoring forward momentum and psychological disruption. By contrast, Deborah had cleaner technique and tighter form, but her emotional volatility created openings. When Deborah lost, Steve wasn’t surprised. Their skills were equal, their temperament not.
After sparring, the girls visited the locker room. Steve didn’t mind the wait. He enjoyed the opportunity to watch others train. He would soon need a new teacher of his own. Denise emerged first. Although physically identical, Steve noticed a distinctive perpetual smirk, as if she were privy to some cosmic joke.
“I’m going to burn off, give you and Deb some alone time, sort of a consolation prize for the loser. FYI, she has the hots for you. Play your cards right and you might just get lucky.”
Unaccustomed to girls being so candid, Steve was momentarily speechless. He was uncertain what she meant by getting lucky, as well as what card playing had to do with it. Denise was long gone before he could form a response. Although still reeling from recent heartbreak, he couldn’t deny a lift of his spirit at the thought Deborah liked him. Perhaps romance wasn’t as out-of-reach as he feared.
Steve enjoyed a day spent touring Bay City with Deborah as guide. She flirted constantly, but he hesitated to respond. His unfamiliarity with western culture left him uncertain of her intentions. That changed when the day ended with them parked outside his new home. Steve was surprised when Deborah initiated a tentative kiss, which quickly morphed into the sort of heavy petting that fogged her car windows. He felt a need to step back, to get the space needed to think with a clear head. He felt relief when Megan arriving home interrupted them. He was unable to look his grinning cousin in the eye as he passed. As he made his way up the steps, he could hear the girls whispering and giggling behind him.
The next morning, Steve went to the O’Bryant house, determined to have a serious conversation with Deborah. Clearly, both felt a strong attraction. Before it developed into a relationship, Deborah deserved to know more about his life. Honor demanded it. Unfortunately, when Denise met him at the door, it was to say Deborah was already gone.
“When that crazy girl left, she was talking about going to Black Tiger school to pick a fight. I should have stopped her. Those people are brutal. When our brother Daniel gets here, we are heading over. I just hope she’s okay until then.”
“Bloody hell! I need to go sort this out,” was Steve’s uncommon emotional response.
If Deborah was in trouble, he was confident he would be more help than her siblings. With Denise’s help, he summoned an Uber to take him to Black Tiger. When he arrived on the eastern edge of Chinatown, he was concerned by the look and feel of the area. It was reminiscent of the roughest poor sector of Singapore. Despite being uneasy, turning back wasn’t an option.
As Steve entered the building, all activities ceased. Everyone paused to gawk at the out-of-place newcomer. He was the only Caucasian in the room. Everyone else was either Asian, Black, or some combination of the two. He saw no sign of Deborah.
“Where is Deborah O’Bryant?” Steve asked calmly.
“Ain’t our day to keep up with the dumb bitch,” replied a hulking middle-aged Black man with a shaved head. Built like a bull, he wore a martial gi decorated with a military-style jungle camo pattern. “What’s with the outfit boy, you get lost on the way to a Chinese costume party?”
Steve knew he was often blind to many social cues, but things in a martial setting were easy to read. The deference shown the speaker labeled the man as the teacher and leader, along with being the top potential adversary in the room. Steve struggled to maintain his poise while assessing the situation. He was grossly outnumbered in an unfamiliar hostile environment. He wasn’t afraid of a fight, but his prime goal was the rescue of Deborah. No matter how skilled he was, sheer numbers could eventually overpower him. If he were to have any chance of success, he needed to turn the encounter into a one-on-one challenge.
Expecting some response to his taunts, Steve’s confident silence confused the man, even seeming to anger him a bit. He stepped closer, signaling his students to stay back.
“Is the white tiger on your sāam fùh meant to signal challenge to the Black Tiger? Best run along fool, before I smash you.”
“Clothes are just a covering.” Steve glanced down at his black silk sāam fùh, adorned with a large white tiger. His master’s family had called him Baahk Fú, Cantonese for white tiger. It began as childhood teasing, but in time grew into a respected title. “I assume your jungle camo pattern is not intended to conceal you from urban tigers.”
“Okay smart ass, enough of your BS. Time to take out the trash.”
The scarred combat veteran rushed forward with a hand extended like a claw, expecting to overpower the impudent boy easily. When he reached to grab Steve, the man was utterly surprised by the results. Steve caught the man’s wrist, twisting into an arm bar and pivoting to redirect momentum into a powerful throw, sending the man crashing through the storefront glass window onto the sidewalk. Students stared in stunned silence.
“Where is Deborah O’Bryant?” Steve calmly asked again, stepping through the shattered window carefully.
“Now you’ve really pissed me off, boy,” the man growled as he effortlessly regained his feet.
Steve was relieved to see the man was not significantly harmed… It was not his intention to cause serious injury. His failure to maintain awareness of the window’s proximity was annoying. He was better than that, usually. Although outwardly calm, he was compromised by his inner emotional state.
A shift in the man’s eyes warned of an incoming attack. Steve easily redirected the charging student, sending him careening into the path of his teacher. Enraged, the big man seized his student by the throat, lifting him off the ground and shaking him like a dog with a rat in its jaws.
“You dishonor me!” he shouted, before throwing him violently to the ground behind him. “You think I need help with this pup?”
He charged in with a barrage of powerful strikes. Steve focused on defense, studying the man’s style for weakness. The man was highly skilled. It took all Steve had to avoid devastating blows. Slowly, Steve transitioned to controlled offense. They exchanged glancing strikes, enough to bruise but not maim. They were nearly equal, although Steve felt a slight advantage. Recognition of the reason came. Steve had trained against this exact style in the past.
A crowd gathered as the conflict continued without a clear victor. Having seen the young student who interfered limp away, others carefully maintained their distance. Eventually, the combatants paused to assess the situation. That’s when Steve spotted Deborah safely watching alongside her siblings across the street. Not only was she unharmed, but she also seemed newly arrived.
“I must apologize. I acted on misinformation” Steve said, bowing in recognition of his mistake. “You fight well, reminiscent of Master Tang Ba.”
“You know Tang Ba?” the surprised man asked.
“I trained under Master Tang Wu, who insisted I spend a summer with his revered uncle, Tang Ba.”
“Well, small world. We share lineage, different branches of the same tree.”
“Who the hell is this fine thing? Looks like a branch I would enjoy climbing,” said a sultry teen stepping through the broken window. The interrupter was a provocatively dressed teen girl who seemed a mix of Black and Chinese. The big man snorted in irritation.
“I’m leaving my daughter Patty here to see you fix this mess. You’re responsible. Fix it and I will let you make it. See it done Patty, then climb on whatever you want.”
Steve bowed in acceptance. He was in the wrong. Honor demanded he make it right. The parting demand was rudely phrased, but Steve accepted the affront as earned, permitting the wronged teacher to save face with his students. The three O’Bryants rushed over the moment the teacher was inside.
“Wow Dude, that fight was fricking amazing!” exclaimed a male lookalike of the twins. “I’m Daniel O’Bryant, big brother of these two chuckleheads. Sorry about all this. Deb lost a bet and had to play kissy face with the new guy. Denise sent you here as a prank, not knowing the real danger.” He seemed on the verge of saying more, but held back after noting Patty’s presence.
“I see,” Steve said softly. The explanation stung. He turned to Deborah, hurt and confused. “So, I was just part of a wager?”
“NO! I mean, yes at first, but…” Deborah faltered, reddening from anger and frustration. “Damn you, Daniel! You make this impossible! I’m out of here. Don’t make me wait too long or you two are walking.”
Deborah huffed off to her car. Steve didn’t see what she had to be angry about. He was the one duped. Denise’s wide smirk indicated she was amused by the whole situation and felt no remorse for her role in the pranks. Daniel continued, unconcerned with his sister’s threat to leave.
“In fairness to Denise, she didn’t grasp the real danger in sending you here. She didn’t know the things I do about Lincoln Drake. He has underworld ties, might even be an assassin. Plus, my Dad rates Drake to be just as good as him. The man’s just been barred from competition due to excessive brutality.”
“Raymond O’Bryant, their dad, has won the most prestigious international martial arts tournament in the world a record three times,” Patty Drake added, stepping forward and casually linking arms with Steve, as if they were old acquaintances, rather than newly met. “I would love to see our Dads fight, but it ain’t happening. Glad I was here to see you fight Dad. Never seen anyone go toe-to-toe with him without getting bones broke.”
“I’m sure watching Steve handle your Daddy got you hot slut, but just back the hell off. My sister has first claim on him,” Denise said.
It surprised Steve, both the speaking up for her sister and the idea she had some claim on him. To send a message, he put an arm around Patty, pulling her closer. Patty molded her curvaceous body to him like a second skin. Denise shot her a venomous glare before storming off to the car. Daniel laughed.
“I should jet before they really do leave me. Things seem good here now. We should talk soon.”
Daniel joined his sisters. As the car passed, Patty made a show of snuggling while waving playfully. She burst into laughter when Deborah punched the gas.
“Tootles bitches,” Patty voiced toward the departing vehicle.
“There seems strong enmity between you and the O’Bryants,” Steve observed, gently extracting himself from her overly familiar embrace.
“Nope. Known them for years. We attend the same private school. You might call us frenemies. Lots of rivalry between the various martial schools, but mostly harmless. I even dated Daniel a couple times. Not really my type. I like bad boys like you.”
“I will disappoint. I’m not a bad boy. I try avoiding trouble.”
“Yeah, see that,” Patty said, pointedly scanning the broken window and glass-littered sidewalk. “You got ideas for dealing with this mess?”
“I suppose. I can ring someone who might help sort it out.” Steve took out the phone his aunt provided when they met, using speed dial to ring one of the only three numbers stored.
“You have reached the priority line for Mr Darren Danvers. Whom shall I say is calling?” asked a chipper woman with a British accent.
“Steve Savage. He should expect my call.”
Steve was impressed with how quickly the executive came online. Either he had little to do or a call from the son of Cecil Savage took precedence. He suspected the latter.
“Good day, Young Mr. Savage. I hope you can find time today for our initial business. Would you prefer a visit to my office, or would it be more convenient if I come to you?”
“I’ve run into a bit of trouble. Accidentally broke a large store front window. Entirely my fault. Could you be so kind as to dispatch some tradesmen to handle repairs? Perhaps we could meet here, discuss business in your vehicle. I feel obliged to remain until I see this matter resolved.”
“Quite right, Young Sir. Give me the location and I shall arrive shortly.”
Steve provided the address, along with a more detailed description of the damage, before ending the call. When he turned back to Patty, she was gawking at him with wide-eyed astonishment. Steve couldn’t guess the cause.
“Just who the hell ARE you? Got servants on speed dial. You’re way more than just a good fighter and hottie.”
“I’m not important. My father is. It’s not a source of pride. His achievements aren’t mine; they just provide a few unearned perks.”
“So, whose Daddy?”
“Cecil Savage, chief owner of a shipping corporation, cargo container ships, planes, trucks, and whatnot.”
“Damn. You’re heir to an empire! I see the Savage Logistics logo nearly every day.”
“Not a big deal. I’m likely to take a pass on the inheritance.”
“Are you insane! Who passes up on hundreds of billions?”
“It’s complicated. Can’t discuss it without divulging secrets that aren’t entirely mine. It’s money not honorably earned. I’d rather not deal with it.”
“Screw that! Get your paws on the money, then put it to good use. There’s such a thing as being too idealistic.”
“I’m not. I make allowances. Father supports me. I agreed to accept a trust fund when I turn twenty-one. The corporation as a whole has too many entanglements. We should talk about something else.”
“Sure. No problem. You can clearly afford private school. Will you be joining me for my senior year?”
“No. I completed requirements for college. Will probably look into that soon.”
“What a shame. Would have been fun to hang together, driving other girls green with envy. I would need to fight them off you. You could still take me to prom.”
“Perhaps. What’s prom?” Steve asked, unfamiliar with American high school life.
“Priceless. I have so much to teach you. Prom is a formal school dance. But there’s something more important I should lace you up on right now. Don’t share your background so quick. Once people know, you can’t tell real friends from people after your money. Don’t trust anyone.”
“Should that include you?” Steve asked, curious how she would react.
“Yeah, even me. Every girl has fantasies of meeting Prince Charming and becoming a Princess. Just remember, I wanted to jump your bones even before I knew your monetary potential. My attraction is to an exceptional fighter and to hot bod.”
“Jump my bones? Does that mean what I think?” He decided not to bother asking about Prince Charming.
“Got no idea what you think, stud. Take me to prom and I just might show you.”
“Enough about me. Tell me more about the beautiful Patty Drake.”
Steve guided her into talking about herself during the next half hour. When he discovered she trained in tiger style gūng fū, he offered to help. They discussed her ambitions and education plans. He made a mental list of her likes and dislikes. She was refreshingly open, except when it came to questions about Lincoln Drake, her dad. That topic was taboo.
Surprisingly, after just half an hour, a window repair truck arrived behind a chauffeur-driven luxury town car. Patty borrowed Steve’s phone to input her digits. Steve promised to ring soon, and they parted so he could confer with Danvers. After a brief talk with the workers, the two of them entered the vehicle to conduct business.
“I need a signature acknowledging receipt of this debit card. This gives you access to the allowance provided by your father. It has soft limits, governed by me, following guidelines of Mr. Savage senior. He wants to see how you handle it. Budget to stay under half a million a year. There is a $3000 daily limit on the card, that I can override when appropriate. Naturally, significant initial expenditures are expected, such as for a vehicle and new wardrobe.”
“I’ve never driven but understand it’s important here. Perhaps I can rely on you to select a high-performance vehicle that isn’t too flashy. I need driving instruction as well. As to clothing, that isn’t important. “
“I shall arrange a selection of vehicle samples for your consideration and a suitable driving instructor.” Danvers paused, looking distinctly apprehensive. “Senior was quite adamant concerning the acquisition of a western wardrobe. He believes your usual samfu will draw excessive and dangerous attention in Bay City. I agree. If possible, Young Sir, I prefer reporting success in completing the tasks set for me. I have already taken the liberty to alert an exclusive haberdashery to expect you today. I hope the staff are not preparing in vain.”
“Fair enough. The window repair seems well in hand. I’m surprised and grateful it could be arranged so quickly. I suppose we can go shopping.”
“You may be surprised by how quickly many things in America are accomplished when price isn’t an object.”
Danvers gave instructions to his driver. As they pulled away, Steve looked back wistfully for Patty. He would rather spend more time with her but saw a duty to Danvers. Patty incorrectly referred to the man as a servant. Steve didn’t see it that way. Yes, he fulfilled needs efficiently, but he was also a minder placed by Father.
Besides, they shared something in common. Both depended upon Cecil Savage for livelihood and were subject to his whims. Steve felt indebted to Danvers for rapid resolution of the window issue. The man could easily have taken his time without consequence. The least Steve should do would be to take time to shop, to keep the boss off his back. It wasn’t as if anyone would force him to wear all they purchased. Besides, he needed to acquire the proper uniform for a prom.