The Dragonborn of Raymonds High

Racing and the Reason for Betrayal

Unlike the deep, resonant growl of the Ferrari, the Lamborghini’s engine roared with a wild rhythm—like the pounding of war drums. Each burst of ignition sent a pulse of energy through the car, igniting a rush of adrenaline that made the driver’s blood burn with excitement.

The Lamborghini sped down the avenue, coming to a smooth stop in front of the Hermès boutique.

“Jones, this feels… a little too extravagant,” Bob said hesitantly as he looked up at the elegant storefront. “We’ve already spent more today than I’ve seen in my entire life. If we buy clothes now, I’ll start feeling guilty for making you spend so much.”

Jones chuckled. “Relax, brother. This is nothing to me. Remember how we used to run for our lives, beaten and humiliated by those guys? Honestly, it was pathetic. But now? We’ll drive back to Raymonds High in style—decked out in designer clothes and luxury cars. Let’s make them choke on their own regret and fear.”

Before Bob could reply, several enthusiastic clerks had already rushed out to greet them. The Lamborghini had turned every head on the street, and the two men instantly became the center of attention.

The saleswomen, graceful and impeccably dressed, began helping Jones pick out suits that matched his tall, muscular build. When Jones handed over his black-gold card, their smiles grew brighter, their tones even sweeter.

An hour later, Jones and Bob walked out of the boutique like completely different men. Their tailored suits highlighted their broad shoulders and sculpted figures. Confidence radiated off them—raw, magnetic, commanding. Pedestrians stopped to stare; women couldn’t help but gaze at them, captivated.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” a flustered female voice called out as someone bumped into Jones.

“It’s fine,” Jones said, turning—and froze for a second.

It was Sara—the goddess of Raymonds High, the dream girl of countless boys.

Her golden hair shimmered like silk, framing a face so perfect it could make time itself pause. Her tall, graceful figure moved with fluid elegance, her curves bouncing slightly with each breath. She was beauty in its most dangerous form.

“My God, you’re… Jones?” Sara’s eyes widened in disbelief. His transformation stunned her into silence.

“The one and only,” Jones said with an easy smile. But something in the crowd made him frown. His instincts prickled. He scanned the area and noticed several men in black suits approaching—too fast, too deliberate.

Sara saw his reaction and her expression tensed. “Jones, I need your help,” she said urgently. “Someone’s after me. I can’t let them catch me… Listen, I know you were framed by Henry. I overheard something last night. I can help you—but please, get me out of here.”

“So this is a transaction, then?” Jones asked, intrigued, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Of course not. Let’s call it mutual aid between friends,” she replied, blinking playfully.

“Fine. I could deal with them right now if I wanted,” Jones said, rolling his shoulders.

“No—please, I just need to get away,” she said quickly.

“Alright,” Jones said with a sigh, grabbing her hand. “Follow me.”

Sara’s heart skipped a beat the moment his warm hand wrapped around hers. His presence, his scent, his raw masculine energy—it all made her pulse race uncontrollably.

Moments later, the Lamborghini roared to life, its engine snarling like a caged beast set free. With a sharp twist of the wheel and a flick of the clutch, Jones sent the car gliding into traffic, leaving the black-suited pursuers far behind.

But trouble wasn’t over yet—three SUVs suddenly appeared ahead, trying to block their path.

“Miss Sara,” Jones said with an excited grin, “you sure know how to attract chaos. Ever been in a real street race?”

“What?” she gasped, thinking she misheard him.

“Fasten your seatbelt!” Jones barked, eyes blazing.

The Lamborghini surged forward—100 miles, 120, 150, 200!

The street blurred into streaks of light as the car darted between vehicles like a silver blade, cutting through the chaos. Pedestrians turned to watch, mouths open, as the beast roared past like a king commanding his realm.

After a breathtaking chase, they finally escaped the city limits.

“Impressive driving,” Sara said with a sultry smile, her golden hair dancing in the wind.

“So,” Jones asked, intrigued, “about that information—you said you could help me?”

Sara nodded. “Last night, I overheard Henry bragging about how he paid off Katherine. He gave her thirty thousand dollars to set you up. That’s how everything happened at school. His goal was simple—he wanted your admission spot at MIT.”

“Thirty thousand?” Jones let out a bitter laugh, though his eyes had turned to ice. “She betrayed me for that little? Katherine…”

He fell silent for a moment before his tone hardened. “But tell me—how did Henry even know about my MIT recommendation? Only a few people knew that.”

Sara hesitated. “I think… it might be connected to your family. Henry mentioned a name, but I’m not sure if it’s true.”

“My family?” Jones’s voice dropped. He frowned, already suspecting who it might be—his proud yet incapable younger brother, spoiled by their foster mother.

“I hope I’m wrong,” Jones muttered coldly, his golden eyes reflecting the fading city lights. “But if not… then I’ll make sure my past ends with dignity—and my revenge begins in full.”