Chapter 4 Shouldn't Mess With The Dragon Lord

• “What do you want?” Miss Poison’s voice sliced the silence as she stopped in her tracks.
• Ava quickly bowed, her voice polite. “I—I thought I saw someone. Chris. The man near the boss… he looked exactly like him.”
• Miss Poison’s brow twitched. “You were given a job, not a tour. Who told you to approach the boss?” Her tone was firm, almost motherly in its warning.
• Ava bowed lower, swallowing hard. “I apologize, missus. It won’t happen again. I was just… confused.”
• Miss Poison didn’t bother replying. She turned around and headed for the waiting car, heels clicking like gunshots against the concrete. Ava watched her leave, the smile creeping back onto her lips.
• Ava couldn’t believe it—she’d just secured a $3 billion contract with the Dragon Group. That deal would fast-track her promotion at Asstas Group. She could already picture the headlines: Ava Nile, youngest executive to seal billion-dollar deal. Her heart danced in her chest.
• Still, something pulled at her. That face.
• He looked too much like Chris. But Chris was in jail... or… has he been bailed?
• She shook her head.
• “No matter what,” she murmured to herself, “the Prestons are going to flip when they hear about this deal.”
• While Ava floated on the high of her breakthrough, Chris sat inside the Dragon Group’s surveillance chamber, watching everything. His arms were crossed, but his eyes were locked on the screen.
• “How have they been surviving these past five years?” he muttered, jaw tightening.
• He turned to Miss Poison. “Get me everything on Ava and her family. I want full data—now.”
• Without a word, Miss Poison activated the wall-length telecom screen. Within seconds, a digital web of information sprawled before them—photos, timelines, bank records, social connections.
• She pointed with her gloved finger. “Five years ago, after your conviction, Ava graduated top of her class. She joined Asstas Group almost immediately. She’s climbed steadily—today’s deal landed her the role of Regional Manager.”
• Chris remained quiet.
• Miss Poison continued, “Her mother, Mrs. Karen Nile, is celebrating her 40th birthday tonight at Reddit Villa. It’s a massive event—Ava planned it all. Many VIPs, politicians, celebrities. And there’s one more thing.”
• Chris raised a brow.
• “Ava is being matched with a suitor tonight. Apparently, her mother’s choice.”
• Miss Poison paused. “My Lord… would you like to attend the party?”
• Chris leaned back in his seat and gave a slow, dangerous smile. “Of course. I need to be close to Ava. I owe her family a small… compensation.”
• He stood. “And I want to meet the man who thinks he’s good enough for her.”
• ***
• Night came swiftly. Reddit Villa shimmered like a palace under a million lights. Waiters in tuxedos floated across the lawn, balancing champagne glasses on silver trays. The villa’s entrance was lined with red carpet, and paparazzi lights flashed nonstop.
• Inside, birthday songs echoed as Karen Nile stood on stage, basking in the glow of praise. Her husband, Josh Nile, presented her with an ornate box tied with golden ribbon. Ava clapped beside them, whispering birthday wishes into her mother’s ear.
• Karen beamed, then raised a hand to quiet the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, her voice loud and proud, “tonight isn’t just about my birthday.”
• Everyone turned, expecting drama—and Karen delivered.
• “At 40, I believe it’s the perfect age to expect grandchildren!” she said, earning some laughter.
• Ava groaned under her breath. Here we go again.
• Karen continued, “But I didn’t need to look far. God brought the perfect son-in-law to me. Handsome, rich, and full of promise!”
• The crowd stirred. Phones rose into the air.
• “Please welcome—my son-in-law—Mr…”
• A voice interrupted from the doorway.
• “Mr. Chris Loner!”
• Heads whipped around. Murmurs spread like wildfire.
• Standing at the entrance was Chris.
• He wore simple jeans, a plain black shirt, and sneakers. No designer suit. No flashy watch. Just presence.
• Ava’s eyes widened. “Chris…” she whispered, her heart skipping a beat.
• It had been five years since she last saw him—and now, here he was, alive and standing in front of her like time hadn’t passed.
• Chris walked slowly toward the stage.
• Karen’s smile vanished. Her jaw locked. She hated him from the first day Ava brought him home. And now this criminal had the audacity to crash her birthday?
• When Chris got close enough, he bent slightly, trying to show respect.
• But Karen stepped back and shoved him hard. “How dare you walk into my party uninvited?” she spat. “And who told you to call yourself my son-in-law?”
• Chris raised his hands. “Relax, Aunt. It was a joke.”
• But a deeper voice cut in, sharp as a blade.
• “And who told you to joke with my title?”
• Everyone turned again.
• Benjamin Burton strutted forward, towering over the guests. He had tattoos coiling up his forearms like snakes and a smug grin carved into his face. A luxury suit hugged his frame like armor.
• “I’m Ava’s soon-to-be husband,” he said, his voice filled with spite.
• Chris stared at him. Of course. Benjamin. The same man who once visited him in jail pretending to be a friend—only to send guards in to beat him up like a dog.
• Benjamin stepped closer. “I can’t imagine an ex-convict thinking he still has a place here,” he scoffed.
• Chris’s fists curled. “Call me anything… but don’t you ever call me an ex-convict again.”
• Benjamin laughed. “Or what? You’ll punch me with your parole papers? Let me make this easy—I'm richer, better, and not a disgrace.”
• Karen looped her arm through Benjamin’s. “Mr. Burton, I apologize for this idiot. Please ignore him.”
• Benjamin turned to her, frowning. “I brought gifts for you tonight. But how can I give them when this trash is still here?”
• Karen nodded solemnly. “What do you want me to do?”
• “Throw him out.”
• Guards circled Chris immediately. One reached for his arm.
• Chris didn’t move.
• Then, calmly, he closed his eyes… and flexed his fingers.
• Chairs from across the hall began rattling. Then, as if guided by invisible hands, they flew through the air, striking the guards with a loud bang! and sending them to their knees.
• The room fell into stunned silence.
• Chris opened his eyes. “Before I leave,” he said, “why don’t you show everyone those gifts you prepared? Let’s see what you’ve got.”
• Benjamin smirked. “You want to be humiliated? Fine.”
• He snapped his fingers, and three women entered carrying trays draped in royal cloth.
• Gasps followed them.
• Benjamin opened the first tray. “An ancient Chinese statue—two centuries old. Market value? $300 million.”
• The second. “A box of luxury. Ten diamond necklaces, five custom pendants, one golden wristwatch. Total value? $500.7 million.”
• Finally, the third.
• He lifted the cloth. “The key to the third most expensive villa in Sera—United Villa. Worth $1.5 billion.”
• The guests burst into applause. Karen looked like she might faint from joy.
• Benjamin strutted up to Chris. “Now tell me, what did you bring?”
• Chris gave a lopsided smile. “You want to see it?”
• He marched to the trays. People gasped.
• “What’s he doing?”
• “Wait—no way…”
• Chris picked up the gold watch, inspected it, then smashed it on the floor.
• Crack!
• He crushed the diamond necklaces under his heel. He flung the statue off the tray—it shattered like cheap porcelain. Then he grabbed the key to the villa and snapped it in two.
• Benjamin lunged. “How dare you!”
• Chris tilted his head. “You need me to explain, huh? All of this? They are all Fake.”
• Gasps echoed.
• “Those diamonds?” Chris pointed. “Glass and foil.”
• He held up what remained of the key. “That villa? It’s not even top ten—it’s number thirty on the list. Estimated value? Barely $8 million.”
• He looked directly at Benjamin.
• “And you think I wouldn’t know? I’ve got receipts, screenshots, and satellite coordinates if you want to fact-check me in front of these people.”
• Benjamin was frozen.
• The guests began to murmur again—this time, not in admiration.
• “You brought fakes?”
• “Cheap showoff!”
• Chris stepped closer, voice rising. “Now tell us the truth, Benjamin. Are these gifts real—or fake?”