Before Derek Davis could give the order to attack, another vehicle screeched to a halt behind the convoy. A sleek black Mercedes with tinted windows that screamed money and power. The door opened, and a young man in an expensive tailored suit stepped out, flanked by four bodyguards."Derek!" The newcomer's voice carried authority despite his youth. "Hold up a second."Derek turned, his expression shifting from predatory to respectful. "Carl. Didn't know you were in the area."Carl Davis—Derek's cousin and Amos's older brother—strode forward with the confidence of someone who'd never been told no in his entire life. At twenty-six, he'd already made a name for himself in Five-River Province's underground, rising quickly under Cesar Pendleton's organization. His reputation preceded him: ruthless, ambitious, and utterly without mercy.His eyes swept the scene, landing on Amos still cradling his broken hand. "What the hell happened to you?""That bastard," Amos pointed at Marcus with his g

Carl Davis barely had time to process Marcus's words before the Dragon King's grip shifted. What had been merely painful became excruciating.The twist was surgical, precise, and absolutely devastating.The sound of Carl's elbow dislocating echoed across the street like a gunshot. His scream was immediate and primal, the kind of sound that made even hardened criminals wince. He dropped to his knees, his arm hanging at an unnatural angle, sweat pouring down his face."You... you broke it..." Carl gasped between sobs of agony. "You actually broke it...""Dislocated," Marcus corrected clinically. "Breaking would take more force. Though I can arrange that if you'd prefer.""Boss!" One of Carl's bodyguards finally overcame his shock and reached for his weapon. "Let him go or I'll—"Derek Davis grabbed the man's arm. "Don't. Just... don't."The bodyguard stared at Derek in disbelief. "But the boss—""Is finished," Derek said quietly, his eyes never leaving Marcus. "Can't you see? This guy i

The emergency medical suite at Pearl on the Water had been transformed into an impromptu operating room. Three of Five-River Province's most skilled trauma surgeons worked frantically over the woman on the table, their faces tight with concentration and concern.Red Widow lay unconscious, her legendary red dress now soaked through with blood, her skin pale as death. Monitors beeped urgently as the medical team extracted dart after poisoned dart from her body.Miguel Abbott stood by the observation window, his face ashen. "Seventeen darts. Seventeen! Two of them less than an inch from her heart." He turned to Marcus, who sat calmly in a chair nearby. "How is she even alive?""Because she's Red Widow," Marcus replied, his dragon eyes watching the surgeons work with clinical detachment. "She's survived worse.""Worse than this?" Miguel gestured at the bloody scene. "Boss, I've seen combat veterans who didn't take this much damage. What the hell did she do?""What she does best." Marcus's

The Willson Building stood like a sleeping giant in Five-River Province's financial district. Twenty-three stories of art deco architecture, its windows dark and empty, its facade weathered by years of neglect. Yet even in abandonment, it commanded respect—a monument to ambition waiting to be awakened.Marcus stood across the street, hands in his pockets, his dragon eyes cataloging every detail. The structural integrity was solid despite appearances. The location was perfect. The potential was limitless."It looks like a graveyard," Miguel Abbott commented beside him, squinting up at the building. "Are you sure about this?""Completely." Marcus's voice held no doubt. "Give it six months. You won't recognize it.""Six months?" Miguel laughed nervously. "Boss, a project this size takes years. The permits alone—""Will be fast-tracked," Marcus interrupted. "I have people handling that. By this time next year, the Willson Building will be the most powerful address in Five-River Province."

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the financial district as Marcus Steel's vehicle pulled to a stop two blocks from the Willson Building. He didn't exit immediately, his dragon eyes studying the structure through the tinted window with calculated precision.Twenty-three stories of forgotten potential. Prime location. Solid bones beneath the decay."You're not going inside?" Miguel Abbott asked from the driver's seat."Not yet." Marcus's voice was thoughtful. "Sometimes you learn more from watching than touching. The building's been here twenty years. It can wait another day."His dragon senses swept the area—measuring foot traffic patterns, assessing neighboring properties, calculating sight lines and access points. The Willson Building wasn't just real estate. It was a statement waiting to be made.After five silent minutes, Marcus leaned back. "I've seen enough. Take me back to Pearl on the Water."Miguel pulled away from the curb, curiosity burning in his eyes but wis