Jason followed Summer's father down a dimly lit corridor, the restaurant's ambient noise fading behind them. Mr. Chen's shoulders were tense, his normally confident stride hesitant as he pushed open the door to a private dining room."Please, sit," he said, gesturing to one of the lacquered chairs.Jason settled in, noting the fine tea set arranged between them, untouched. Mr. Chen remained standing, pacing slightly before finally dropping into his seat with a heavy sigh."I don't know how to begin thanking you," Mr. Chen said, his eyes fixed on his folded hands. "What you've accomplished for our business in just months... it's remarkable."The air conditioning hummed softly overhead. Jason waited, sensing there was more."But I'm afraid our problems aren't over." Mr. Chen's voice dropped. "They may have just begun.""What's happened?" Jason asked.Mr. Chen reached for the teapot but didn't pour. His fingers tapped against the ceramic surface. "My family—my birth family—they've contac

Thomas closed his laptop with a decisive click. The decision had been forming in his mind all afternoon, crystallizing with each passing hour. After witnessing Jason's handling of the Summer situation, Thomas knew what needed to be done."Diane," he called to his assistant through the open door. "Can you ask Jason to come in?"A few minutes later, Jason appeared, notepad in hand as always. "You needed me, sir?"Thomas gestured to the chair across from him. "The Westbrook proposal. I'm assigning you as lead."Jason's usually composed expression faltered for just a moment. "Sir? That's a multi-million dollar account.""I'm aware." Thomas slid the folder across his desk. "And I've seen how you work. You've got instincts that people twice your age don't have.""I appreciate the confidence, but—""This isn't charity, Jason. It's strategy." Thomas leaned forward, fixing the young man with a serious gaze. "The Westbrook people respond to competence, not titles. You demonstrated that competen

The last attacker struggled to his knees, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes, wide with disbelief, fixed on Jason as if seeing him for the first time."What the hell are you?" he mumbled, swaying slightly as he pressed a hand against the wall for support.Jason stood in the center of the wreckage, chest rising and falling steadily, his expression unnervingly calm. Around him, the other men writhed on the floor—a collection of groans, curses, and labored breathing filling the air where the pleasant chatter of diners had been just minutes before."A kid," another one sputtered, cradling his shattered wrist. "We got taken down by a goddamn kid."The largest of the group, the one who had charged Jason like a bull, rolled onto his side, face contorted in pain. "That's no kid," he growled. "That's not possible."Jason said nothing, watching them with the detached focus of a predator assessing whether its prey still posed a threat. Only when he was certain none of them we

The tension was cut by the sound of the door swinging open. A reverent hush fell over the room as a figure stepped through the threshold, his presence commanding immediate attention.It was him. The boss.His tailored suit hung on his frame with perfect precision, not a wrinkle in sight. Gold cufflinks caught the light as he surveyed the scene before him, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to barely contained fury.Jason's eyes narrowed, studying the man who wielded such power that even his name seemed to inspire fear. He looked... ordinary. Dangerous, yes, but human.The boss's gaze swept across the destruction—the overturned furniture, the shattered glass, his men in various states of disarray—before settling on the confrontation at the center of the room. Something cold and calculating flickered behind his eyes."What," he said, his voice deceptively soft, "is the meaning of this?"The man who had been threatening Jason immediately released his grip and took a step back, s

The phone barely rang once before a gruff voice answered, the sound so clear in the silent room that it seemed to hover in the air between them."Boss." Not a question. A statement."Dragon, I need your presence immediately." The boss's voice had lost its theatrical quality, replaced by sharp urgency. His eyes never left Jason's face as he spoke, searching for any flicker of recognition, any hint of fear. "The noodle shop across from Sullivan's. Now."A beat of silence from the other end. Then: "Details.""Some punk named Jason thinks he runs things now." The boss's knuckles whitened around the phone. "He needs to be taught the kind of lesson only you can deliver. Make sure he pays. For everything."Another pause, shorter this time. "Twenty minutes.""Not good enough. Now." The boss's voice cracked slightly on the last word. A heavy sigh crackled through the connection. "Ten."The call ended abruptly. The boss slowly lowered the phone, his lips curling into something between a grimac