All Chapters of RETURN OF THE LEGENDARY NORTHERN DRAGON: Chapter 41
- Chapter 50
78 chapters
I NEED TO APOLOGIZE
County Jail's holding cells smelled like disinfectant and broken dreams.Gerald Reed sat alone on a concrete bench, head wrapped in bandages from where he'd struck marble at the museum. The wound throbbed in time with his heartbeat, each pulse reminding him of Vanessa shoving him, of federal agents reading Miranda rights, of everything falling apart.Accessory to conspiracy. Aiding criminal enterprises. Obstruction of justice. The charges stacked like monuments to failure.The cell door opened with metallic clang that made him flinch.A guard stepped aside, allowing an unexpected visitor to enter. The man wore military dress uniform—four stars on his shoulder boards, chest covered in ribbons that spoke of wars fought and won. His bearing was command authority refined over decades."Mr. Reed. We need to talk about your son-in-law."Gerald looked up, confusion and bitterness warring across his face. "He's not my son-in-law anymore. Vanessa divorced him. Made sure everyone knew he was wo
MAKS HIM BLEED
Women's Detention Center's maximum security wing was designed to break spirits before bodies.Vanessa Reed sat in her cell staring at concrete walls painted institutional beige, smile gone, designer clothes replaced by orange jumpsuit, eyes hollow with the realization that privilege meant nothing behind bars.Three cells down, Patricia's sobbing echoed through the block—constant, broken, the sound of a woman whose carefully constructed life had shattered completely. Vanessa hadn't spoken to her mother since their arrest. Hadn't even looked at her during processing.Some betrayals couldn't be forgiven. Some confessions destroyed families permanently.Footsteps approached. A guard—middle-aged, professional, expression neutral—stopped at Vanessa's cell. "You have a visitor. Lawyer requesting private consultation."Vanessa stood mechanically. In two days of custody, no lawyer had come. Her previous attorney had dropped her the moment federal charges hit. But hope was dangerous currency in
END IN BLOOD
Matteo Vittore's safe house was a fortified mansion in countryside that looked pastoral until you noticed the security cameras and armed patrols.Ava sat in a leather chair that cost more than she'd earned in years of homelessness, hands still trembling from pulling the trigger. Viktor's face—shock, then nothing—played on repeat behind her eyes."I killed him." Her voice was hollow. "I actually killed a man. Ended a life. Took everything he was and turned it into nothing."Grayson knelt beside her chair, cleaning her hands with warm cloth, gentle despite his own wounds that still bled through bandages. "You saved a child's life. There's a difference between murder and protection.""Is there?" Ava looked at her clean hands like they belonged to someone else. "Viktor's probably got family. A mother who raised him. Friends who'll miss him. People who'll mourn what I took away—""He held a knife to a six-year-old's throat." Grayson's voice was firm. "He was moments from killing Emma on or
THROUGH BLADE AND BLOOD
Grayson was on his phone before the video even finished buffering, voice cutting through emotion with military precision. "James! Location on that warehouse! I need origin trace, signal analysis, anything that tells us where Marcus Wolfe is holding those hostages!"James's voice crackled back, strained with urgency. "Working on it, sir. The video's encrypted with layers we're peeling back. Give me twenty minutes for proper trace. Maybe less if I can crack—""You have ten," Grayson interrupted, already moving to tactical planning mode.Matteo studied the footage with professional assessment, rewinding, examining backgrounds, looking for details that spoke of location. "That's one of Marcus Wolfe's black sites. Warehouses he maintains for exactly this purpose. I know he has seven in the tri-state area. Could be any of them.""Then we hit all seven simultaneously." Grayson's voice carried command that had moved armies. "Coordinated assault. Overwhelming force. Find the hostages before Ma
NOTHING LEFT TO CHOOSE
Marcus Wolfe's private jet cruised at forty thousand feet, luxury cabin transformed into command center.He sat in leather that cost more than most people's cars, watching Ava's challenge video for the fifth time. Each viewing revealed new details—the trembling hands that steadied halfway through, the voice that cracked then strengthened, the eyes that showed fear transforming into determination.Vincent stood nervously beside him, tablet glowing with intelligence reports and organizational updates. "Sir, should we ignore this? She's untrained. A civilian who's spent twelve years homeless. This challenge is beneath your dignity—"Marcus Wolfe replayed the video again, finger hovering over pause as he studied Ava's expression. "She has Margaret's fire. My sister's rage before I broke her spirit and sent her running.""But she's no fighter. You'll kill her in seconds. Perhaps ten if you're feeling generous.""Perhaps." Marcus Wolfe's voice was thoughtful calculation. "Or perhaps she's m
HOW TO KILL
The underground fight club existed in spaces legitimate society pretended didn't exist.Deep in the city's industrial sector, beneath a legitimate boxing gym, down three flights of concrete stairs that smelled like sweat and blood, Grayson and Ava descended into a world where violence was currency and survival was education.The Forge wasn't metaphor. It was literal description of what happened here—humans beaten and reformed like metal under hammer, shaped through brutality until they became weapons or broke entirely.Natasha Volkov waited in the center cage, six feet of scarred muscle and predatory assessment. Former Russian Spetsnaz before that organization disavowed her methods. Former everything, actually, with a resume written in bodies and legends whispered among people who understood real violence.Her eyes were shark's eyes—flat, calculating, measuring Ava like butcher examining meat."This is the girl?" She circled Ava slowly, unimpressed by everything she saw. "She's soft.
KILLED THE WRONG MAN
Matteo Vittore's office at midnight felt like conspiracy made architecture.Heavy curtains blocked windows. Electronic countermeasures hummed softly, defeating surveillance. His captains sat around the mahogany table like war council deciding whether to commit forces to battle they might not survive.They were nervous. Every man showed it differently—Antonio cracking knuckles, Marco adjusting his tie repeatedly, others finding reasons to avoid eye contact. Marcus Wolfe's power was legendary. Opposing him invited destruction that echoed through generations.Marco—the consigliere who'd served three decades—finally voiced what everyone was thinking. "Boss, supporting this girl is suicide. When Marcus Wolfe wins that challenge, he'll turn his attention to everyone who helped her. He'll destroy our family systematically. Is one homeless girl worth that risk?""If Marcus Wolfe wins," Matteo corrected, voice calm but sharp. "I'm betting on chaos. Either Ava survives and we have alliance with
THE PRICE OF REVENGE
The abandoned warehouse smelled like rust and betrayal.Carter and Vanessa stood over a map of the city spread across a folding table, red pins marking locations with clinical precision. Warehouse lighting threw harsh shadows that made everything look diseased."When Ava fights Marcus Wolfe, security will be minimal everywhere else." Carter's finger traced routes between targets. "Every resource focused on the arena. FBI watching the spectacle. Matteo's men protecting the perimeter. That's when we strike."Vanessa studied the targets marked in red, confusion replacing the desperate hope she'd clung to since her prison break. "Strike what? I thought we were going after Grayson directly. Ambush him. Kill him. Get our revenge and disappear.""We are going after him. By taking everyone he cares about." Carter's smile was predatory calculation. "The old man Gerald. The children from that shelter. Sarah Martinez. One by one, we make him watch them die screaming. Break him psychologically be
THE BATTLE ARENA
The federal safe house looked like every other suburban home on the quiet street, which was exactly the point.Gerald Reed sat at a government-issue desk surrounded by file cabinets and computer equipment, working with General Harding to decrypt Reed Industries' classified files. His hands shook slightly—not from fear this time, but from withdrawal. First time in decades without bourbon to dull the edges."These defense contracts..." Gerald's voice was hollow recognition. "Half of them are illegal. Black market weapons sales disguised as legitimate business. How did I not see this?"Harding studied the documents over Gerald's shoulder, face grim with confirmation of suspicions. "Logan and Carter were using your company to arm terrorist cells across three continents. You never knew? Never questioned the unusual shipment schedules?""I was too busy drinking." Gerald's shame was palpable, filling the room like poison gas. "Too weak to ask questions. Too cowardly to look at what was happe
WALKING ALONE INTO DEATH
Grayson's safe house war room looked like conspiracy brought to life through technology.Gerald's intel spread across monitors—family trees that looked like criminal org charts, financial networks spanning continents, weapons trafficking routes marked in red across digital maps. The Castellano family's empire laid bare through documents Gerald had risked everything to preserve."Thomas Castellano wasn't just a diplomat," Gerald explained, pointing to specific files. "He was the Castellano family's money launderer. Moved billions through fake charities, humanitarian organizations, even UN relief funds. Funding terrorist cells while maintaining diplomatic immunity."Grayson studied the files with military precision. "I killed him on orders. Black ops mission five years ago in Singapore. He was financing groups planning attacks on American embassies across Southeast Asia. The mission was sanctioned at highest levels.""His family doesn't care about sanctions or orders." Gerald pulled up