1 Early release. A reward for good behavior, they said. As the gates swung open, the first thought that truly solidified in my mind wasn't freedom, but Ivy's upcoming birthday. My little sister. I needed to find her the perfect gift. So, hiding my true identity, I slipped into a high-stakes charity auction, a glittering facade for the city's elite. But the very first item on display, plastered across the massive screen, was a collection of hundreds of intimate photos of my sister. Her eyes, hazy with a vulnerability I'd never seen, her body contorted into a dizzying array of poses—all of it paraded as a grotesque exhibit for sale. My jaw clenched, a knot tightening in my stomach. Then, from the crowd below, I heard my brother-in-law, Brandon, his voice dripping with venomous mockery: "Ivy Anderson, you loved being in the spotlight, didn't you? Well, these hundreds of photos should give you all the illumination you could ever want." "If you're so bothered, buy them all back. After being 'illuminated' hundreds of times, why pretend to be pure?" Ivy's face was chalk-white. She stood rigid, her fists clenched at her sides. My eyes locked onto Brandon, his arm wrapped possessively around a young college girl. So, this is what they’d done in my absence. They’d dared to push my sister to this breaking point. I looked at the leering, depraved faces around me, the hunger in their eyes. Tonight, I would make them remember my name. Tonight, they would remember who I was. "Ugh, this chick's got fire!" "What a body. Wonder what the starting bid is?" Below, Brandon's arrogant voice sliced through the murmuring crowd, each word a fresh wound to my ears. He had a young college girl draped over his arm, a triumphant smirk plastered across his face. "Heard you loved being in the spotlight, Ivy, back when your brother was around? These hundreds of photos—enough light for you now?" A wave of raucous laughter erupted from the crowd, a chorus of crude jeers echoing through the hall. "Brandon's really showing off! Sharing a prime piece like this!" "Damn, that figure, that expression… looks like a wild ride!" My sister, Ivy, stood a short distance from the raucous crowd. Her face was ashen, her body trembling, her hands clamped tight onto the fabric of her dress. She wanted to explode, to lash out, but she held it all in, tears brimming in her eyes. The humiliation threatened to drown her. My heart twisted with a pain sharper than any blade. This was my little sister, the one I had raised with tenderness, cherished like a fragile porcelain doll. Before I went away, she was a carefree princess, a ray of sunshine. Now, she stood exposed, enduring this public, exquisite torment. Brandon continued his performance. "If you're so ashamed, go ahead and buy them back yourself!" He paused, his voice rising, laced with deliberate insult. "Oh, right, you probably don't have the cash, do you? Your company? That's mine now!" "After being in the spotlight hundreds of times, what's with the innocent act, sweetie?" Ivy’s body convulsed, her legs threatening to give out. I forced myself to remain calm. Rushing out now would only tip my hand, accomplish nothing. My gaze swept over Brandon and his new trophy, then to the pompous auctioneer, and finally, to every leering face in the audience, every one of them reveling in her pain. Good. All of you. Very good. The auctioneer picked up his gavel, his voice booming. "Ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Ivy Anderson's precious private collection! Starting bid, one million dollars! Minimum increment, one hundred thousand!" "One point one million!" A bidder's paddle shot up instantly. "One point two million!" "I bid one point five million!" The room ignited. These so-called philanthropists and esteemed socialites, their true, ugly faces now laid bare. Ivy closed her eyes, a gesture of utter despair. Silently, I pressed the earpiece hidden beneath my hair. "Move. Dig up everything on Brandon from the past few years. And the dirt on this auction house. Leave no stone unturned." I squeezed out the words, my voice tight, devoid of any discernible emotion. But I knew, in the core of my being, that my rage was about to burn through the very heavens. Brandon. And all you other pieces of trash. I would make you understand the true meaning of regret. I would make you remember: I, The Dragon, am back. And this? This is just the beginning. 2 The auction roared on, prices climbing relentlessly. "Two million!" "I bid two point one million!" Ivy suddenly opened her eyes, and with a trembling hand, she raised her bid paddle. "I… I bid two point two million." Her voice was choked with tears, filled with utter helplessness. Brandon, seeing this, a cruel smirk twisted his lips. He signaled to a slick, greasy-haired man beside him. The man immediately raised his paddle. "Three million!" Ivy's face instantly drained of all color. She looked at Brandon, despair in her eyes, her body swaying precariously. Brandon tightened his arm around the college girl, kissing her cheek triumphantly. "See, babe? That's what happens when you don't know your place." "Back when her brother, The Dragon, was around, I used to give him some respect." "Now? The Dragon's just a broken man, fresh out of prison! He can barely protect himself, let alone his sister!" He turned to Ivy, his voice cold. "Ivy Anderson, do you honestly think you're still that high-and-mighty princess?" "Truth be told, these past few years your brother was locked up? I systematically dismantled your company, piece by piece." "And these photos? I made you take them. If you didn't obey, I had plenty of ways to make you comply!" Ivy's voice rose in a heartbroken accusation. "Brandon! You ungrateful animal!" "If it wasn't for my brother, his money and his efforts, you wouldn't be where you are today!" " My brother treated you like good friend, and I treated you like family! Is this how you repay us?" Every word she uttered was steeped in blood-soaked grief. Brandon scoffed, a sneer twisting his lips. "Brother? Family? Don't make me laugh!" "Business is war. There's only eternal profit, no eternal brothers." "Your brother, The Dragon, was big stuff back then. But what is he now? Just a common prisoner!" "Ivy Anderson, I advise you to face reality. Right now, no one can save you." With every word he spoke, Ivy's face grew paler. My subordinate's voice crackled through my discreet earpiece. "Dragon, we've got some intel on Brandon. He's hooked up with an offshore outfit these past few years. Nasty reputation." "The auction house owner's name is Big Mike. He's in deep with Brandon, running all sorts of dirty deals. We've got some key evidence coming in." I stated flatly, "Keep digging. I want every single piece of dirt they have." Ivy was backed against the wall by Brandon, tears blurring her vision, on the verge of collapsing. But she gritted her teeth, holding on, refusing to fall. I knew she was waiting. Waiting for me. An indescribable ache twisted in my chest. Brandon continued to babble, boasting about his "victories," and the crowd around him egged him on. "Brandon's right! Smart people know when to give in!" "Miss Anderson, just agree to Brandon's terms. You'll live a life of luxury. Isn't that better than this?" The sheer ugliness of these people's faces made me sick to my stomach. I looked at Brandon's smug, self-satisfied face, and murderous intent boiled in my chest. The auction price had already soared to five million. Ivy was utterly defeated. She lowered her paddle, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Brandon grew even more triumphant, his arm around his new girl, as if she were a trophy. "Ivy Anderson, see that? That's what happens when you defy me." "Don't worry, these photos are just an appetizer. If you keep acting up, I've got even more 'exciting' videos." Ivy's body began to tremble violently. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. Brandon, you have successfully infuriated me. Now, it's my turn. I whispered into the earpiece. "Prepare for action. Seal all exits." "Tonight, no one leaves this place." 3 Inside the venue, some of Brandon's usual associates, or those who feared the power behind him, began to openly chime in. "Miss Anderson, Brandon's doing this for your own good. Don't be stubborn." "That's right. Just cooperate. Everyone saves face, and you'll suffer less." These words were like dull knives, slicing into Ivy's heart, and into mine. Big Mike, the auction house manager, stepped forward. He sported a beer belly, a forced smile plastered on his face, and spoke with feigned concern. "Brandon, Miss Anderson, let's keep the peace here." "Auctions are about fairness and integrity. Since Miss Anderson has withdrawn her bid, then these photos go to…" He hadn't even finished his sentence when Ivy suddenly exploded with emotion. She shrieked, "Those are my things! You can't do this!" She lunged, like a wild woman, attempting to rush the auction stage, desperate to reclaim those photos. Two burly security guards immediately stepped forward, roughly restraining her. One even gripped her arm so hard that angry red marks appeared on her fair skin. My eyes widened in terror. I could barely suppress the violent surge within me. "Let her go!" The words almost escaped my lips. Brandon, seeing this, smiled even more cruelly. He stepped forward, shoved the security guard aside, and grabbed Ivy by the hair, forcing her to look up at him. "Ivy Anderson, looks like you haven't learned your lesson." He lowered his voice, speaking just loud enough for only the two of them to hear. "I'll warn you one more time: behave yourself." "Otherwise, after these photos, there are even more 'exciting' videos. When that time comes, I'll invite 'friends' to my private party to 'enjoy' them." Ivy's body stiffened, her eyes filled with terror and despair. "Private party." Those two words coiled like venomous snakes around my heart. The intent to kill, in that moment, solidified into a tangible presence. Just then, my trusted subordinate's voice crackled through my earpiece. "Dragon, we've got it! Brandon's linked to a notorious offshore organization called 'Black Scorpion.' Big Mike's auction house has been laundering a lot of their dirty money. We've got some crucial evidence." A cold smirk touched my lips. Good. You had a path to heaven, but you chose to storm the gates of hell. Brandon, and Big Mike, your time is up. I subtly signaled to my men. Several of my brothers, already infiltrated in the venue, nodded imperceptibly, moving discreetly towards the key exits and the surveillance room. The atmosphere in the hall grew increasingly oppressive. Ivy, terrified by Brandon's threats, slumped weakly to the floor, muffled sobs escaping her lips. The people watching this scene, some showed expressions of discomfort, but most reveled in schadenfreude. Some even began to whisper, discussing how "exciting" Brandon's "private party" would be. The ugliness of humanity was laid bare. Brandon seemed quite pleased with the chilling effect he had created. He released Ivy's hair, straightened his collar, and nodded towards the auctioneer. "Continue." The auctioneer snapped out of his trance, quickly picking up his gavel. "Ahem. Since there are no further bids, then this valuable collection of photographs shall go to…" The storm was about to break. Silently, I put on the mask I had prepared. Tonight, I would make this city remember the name "The Dragon" once more.
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