Smooth and shapely, pale as jade—a pair of sheer stockings clung to her legs like a second skin, tracing every elegant curve.
Colin's pulse quickened at the fleeting glimpse.
She was tall, strikingly beautiful, and after a brief appraisal of him, she walked straight over.
The woman wore a flowing white gown trimmed with violet and gold thread—sensual yet undeniably regal. Her face was the kind that stopped hearts: delicate, luminous, as if she'd stepped out of some mountain goddess legend. Her eyes shimmered like autumn waters, captivating and impossibly refined.
"You must be Colin Cox. I'm Marjorie Floyd—my grandfather should have mentioned me."
She smiled and extended her hand.
Marjorie Floyd?
Colin blinked. So this was the Floyd family's eldest daughter.
She truly was breathtaking.
"Hello. I'm Colin."
He took her hand. Soft, smooth—like warm jade.
"Mr. Cox, Longtide Group has run into a problem we can't solve on our own. We'd like your help." Marjorie was direct.
"I know. Old Mr. Floyd already told me."
Colin gestured toward the run-down apartment complex nearby. "Wait here. I need to stop by my place first."
Wait?
Marjorie's brow furrowed slightly. With her status, she wasn't used to being kept waiting when she personally came to recruit someone.
But Colin was her grandfather's recommendation. She had no choice but to comply.
Colin headed home with his belongings. This apartment had been his and Iris's marital home—a cramped unit in a decrepit old complex. With his help, Iris's career had flourished, and two years ago she'd moved out.
This shabby place? She'd left it to him.
Back inside, Colin opened his bundle and stared at the colorful little clothes he'd made for his daughter. His chest felt like someone had carved out a piece of his heart.
He sorted through the tiny garments, and before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face.
A man doesn't cry easily—only when his heart is truly broken.
Just then, the door slammed open. Kate Galloway and her son Gerard burst in.
"Colin! Colin—"
They hollered like they owned the place.
"What do you want?" Colin's voice was ice.
"So the loser really is hiding here." Gerard sneered, waving a piece of paper. "Did you write this?"
Spring Pool's Gentle Charm.
Colin glanced at it and gave a slight nod.
Mother and son exchanged looks, eyes lighting up with greed. They stared at Colin like he was a gold mine.
"Not bad handwriting. Since you're so pathetic you can't even find a job, I'll do you a favor. Write for me every day, and I'll pay you two thousand a month. How's that sound?"
Gerard was playing quite the angle.
Colin scoffed. His calligraphy commanded ten thousand dollars a character—and this punk was offering two thousand a month?
"Not interested. Get out."
"What? You piece of trash, you're refusing me?"
Gerard's face contorted with rage.
Kate quickly grabbed his arm, then plastered on a smile and sidled up to Colin. "Colin, you were my son-in-law after all. Writing a few characters—it's such a simple thing. Since Gerard's already asked, just say yes."
"Son-in-law?" Colin laughed coldly. "Iris and I are divorced. I have nothing to do with you people."
Kate's expression hardened instantly. "You ungrateful wretch! Forgetting your mother-in-law the moment it's convenient—are you even human? Today you're writing whether you like it or not!"
"Get out." Colin's eyes flashed with anger.
"Bastard—you want to die?" Gerard grabbed a stool and swung it at Colin's head.
Colin sidestepped easily. Gerard stumbled, nearly falling.
But Kate was quick. She darted to the pile of tiny clothes and smirked. "Colin, if you don't write a thousand characters for us today, I'll burn every last one of your daughter's things."
Gerard was already there with a lighter, snatching up a stuffed bear and dangling it in Colin's face.
"Write, you dog—or else!" The flame flickered closer to the toy.
Soon, an acrid smell filled the room. The bear caught fire.
"You animals!"
Colin's restraint shattered. His palm connected with Gerard's face before the younger man could react.
Crack!
Gerard flew backward, his head slamming into the corner of the wall. Blood streamed down his face.
Colin lunged forward and smothered the flames on the bear—but it was already ruined beyond recognition.
The more he looked at it, the angrier he became. He grabbed Gerard by the collar, hauled him upright, and slapped him across the face again. And again.
A dozen blows later, Gerard's face was a swollen, bloody mess. Two teeth flew out mixed with blood. He looked like a battered pig.
"You dare hit my son? I'll kill you!"
Kate shrieked and kicked off her heels, driving the stiletto point toward Colin's eye.
He caught her wrist and shoved. She landed hard on her backside.
"Get. Out."
Colin's voice was low, dangerous. His bloodshot eyes burned with something that made Kate recoil—like staring into the face of a demon.
"Brock Hale! Get up here—someone's beating me!" Gerard screamed into his phone, blood dripping down his chin.
He'd always been a street punk. Now that he had money, he fancied himself a big shot and had collected a gang of lowlife friends to match.
Minutes later, a tattooed hulk led a dozen thugs up the stairs. They looked ready for murder, weapons in hand.
"Beat him! Beat this bastard to death!" Gerard jabbed a finger at Colin, snarling through broken teeth.
The thugs fanned out, surrounding Colin with their weapons raised.
Colin didn't flinch.
He reached up and unclasped the jade pendant from his chest, then hurled it to the ground.
The outer casing—carved in the shape of a serpent and phoenix—shattered completely.
But inside, something else emerged.
A dragon.
The Dragon-Shaped Jade.
Colin gazed at it, his expression softening with unexpected tenderness.
Old friend... I'm sorry I kept you locked away for three years.
But now?
The serpent shatters. The dragon rises.
I, the Dragon Lord, have returned.
