Don't Steal From A Dragon

Colette reclined in her office chair, her sharp claws tapping rhythmically against the polished oak desk. The room was dimly lit, the warm glow from a nearby fireplace casting flickering shadows across the walls. Artifacts from the parallel fantasy world lined the shelves, a testament to her empire's reach and power. She was reviewing the day's reports, her irritation already building from the sheer incompetence of some of her men.

Her peaceful moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. Without looking up, she barked, "Enter."

The door creaked open, and Oakley stepped inside, his composed demeanor masking the urgency of his visit. Dressed in his usual sharp suit, the Consigliere adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.

"Boss, we have a situation," he said calmly but firmly.

Colette's eyes flicked up, her icy gaze locking onto him. "What kind of situation?"

Oakley placed a folder on her desk and opened it to reveal surveillance photos and reports. "There's a gang running an illegal gambling operation on our turf. Underground casinos, betting rings, sports wagering—it's extensive."

Colette leaned forward, her interest piqued. Her claws stopped tapping as she picked up one of the photos, her sharp blue eyes narrowing as she studied the faces of the gang members.

"They're stealing from me," she said coldly, her voice low and dangerous.

Oakley nodded. "Yes. From what we've gathered, the gang consists of humans, dryads, and succubi. They've set up shop in a few key locations, and they've been raking in profits that should be flowing into your coffers."

Colette's tail lashed behind her, the tip slamming against the floor with a dull thud. The temperature in the room seemed to drop as her anger simmered. "How long has this been going on?"

"A few months," Oakley admitted, his tone cautious. "We only recently confirmed the scope of their operation."

Colette's eyes flashed with fury, her wings twitching slightly. "Months? And I'm only hearing about this now?"

Oakley held his ground, knowing better than to flinch under her gaze. "We wanted to be sure before bringing it to your attention, boss. Now we have the evidence, and we've pinpointed their main location—a large underground casino in the industrial district."

Colette stood, her towering form casting a long shadow over Oakley. Her kimono, embroidered with thunderbolts, swayed as she moved, and her claws flexed as if itching for action.

"They're bold," she said, her voice venomous. "But they're also stupid. They think they can operate under my nose and get away with it? Let's show them what happens when you steal from me."

Oakley nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I had a feeling you'd want to handle this personally."

Colette smirked, her sharp teeth glinting in the firelight. "Of course. I'll pay them a visit and make it clear who they're dealing with. Ready the men."

Oakley bowed slightly. "As you wish, boss."

As he left the room, Colette turned her gaze to the fireplace, her smirk fading into a cold, calculated expression. Her enemies were about to learn a harsh lesson: you don't mess with the dragon and live to tell the tale.

Colette didn't waste any time after Oakley left her office. She summoned a small contingent of her best men—armed to the teeth and ready for anything—and set off for the underground casino in the industrial district. The sleek black car she rode in cut through the streets like a shadow, her soldiers following close behind in a convoy.

By the time they arrived, night had fallen, and the area was cloaked in darkness. The entrance to the illegal gambling den was tucked behind an abandoned factory, its existence betrayed only by the faint hum of neon lights and the muffled noise of lively activity spilling out onto the street.

Colette stepped out of the car, her towering form immediately commanding attention. Dressed in her dark blue kimono embroidered with thunderbolts, her wings partially unfurled, and her thick tail swishing behind her, she exuded an aura of pure dominance. Her soldiers fanned out behind her, their weapons at the ready, but she didn't need them to make a statement.

With a flick of her tail, she signaled her men to breach the doors. They moved swiftly, kicking them open with a thunderous crack. The sound silenced the chatter and clinking glasses inside, all eyes turning to the imposing figure of Colette as she strode into the room.

The casino was packed with people—humans, dryads, and succubi alike—crowded around card tables, roulette wheels, and dice games. The air reeked of cheap booze and desperation. As Colette entered, the temperature seemed to plummet, the faint frost forming on the walls a testament to her simmering rage.

One of the humans running a table stood up, clearly nervous. "W-who the hell are you?" he stammered.

Colette didn't answer immediately. She let the silence stretch as she slowly surveyed the room, her piercing blue eyes sweeping over the crowd. Her tail flicked once, the sound loud and sharp in the otherwise silent space.

"Who am I?" she finally said, her voice low and dangerous. "I'm the owner of this turf. The one you've been stealing from."

The man paled, stumbling back a step. A succubus, her dark red skin gleaming under the dim lights, stepped forward, her wings flaring defensively. "This is a private business," she said, her tone defiant. "We don't owe you anything."

Colette raised an eyebrow, her smirk icy. "Private business? On my land? You're either very bold or very stupid."

The succubus opened her mouth to respond, but Colette didn't give her the chance. In a blur of motion, she lunged forward, her claws slashing through the air. The succubus screamed as Colette grabbed her by the wing and yanked hard, tearing it clean off. Blood sprayed across the floor as the succubus crumpled, writhing in pain.

The room erupted into chaos, people scrambling to escape, but Colette's men blocked the exits, their guns raised to keep the crowd contained.

Colette turned her attention to one of the humans who had been running the tables, his face pale with terror. "You thought you could steal from me and get away with it?" she hissed, grabbing him by the collar. With a flick of her wrist, she threw him to the ground. Before he could even try to crawl away, she brought her clawed foot down on his leg with a sickening crack. The man howled in pain, clutching his shattered limb.

"This is me being merciful," Colette snarled, her voice carrying over the panicked murmurs of the crowd. "If I were serious, none of you would leave here alive."

She glanced at her men, her sharp blue eyes cold and unyielding. "Round them up. I want them to remember this lesson."

Her soldiers moved swiftly, dragging the gang members into a corner. Those who resisted were met with swift, brutal strikes from rifle butts or boots. Colette's tail swished impatiently as she watched, her presence a constant reminder of who held the power.

She walked up to the gang's leader, a dryad whose bark-like skin was cracked and trembling. The dryad barely held her composure as Colette loomed over her.

"Listen carefully," Colette said, her tone as cold as ice. "You have twenty-four hours to shut this operation down and get off my turf. If I hear so much as a whisper about you staying here or starting up somewhere else, I won't stop at breaking your legs or tearing off wings. I'll make sure no one even remembers your names."

The dryad nodded frantically, her green eyes wide with fear. "Y-yes, ma'am. We'll leave. We'll leave tonight."

Colette leaned in closer, her breath freezing the air between them. "Good. Because if I have to come back, there won't be anything left of you to bury."

Satisfied, she straightened up and signaled to her men. "Make sure they remember this," she ordered.

The soldiers began their work, hauling the injured gang members to a separate room for interrogation and torture. Colette didn't spare them another glance as she turned and walked out of the casino, the temperature returning to normal as she left.

As she stepped outside into the crisp night air, Oakley approached her, his expression unreadable. "Handled to your satisfaction, boss?"

Colette smirked, brushing a speck of blood from her kimono. "For now. They'll think twice before crossing me again."

Oakley nodded, falling into step beside her as they made their way back to the car. "And if they don't?"

Colette's smirk widened, her sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. "Then I'll show them what it means to truly anger a dragon."

With that, she climbed into the car, her men following suit. The convoy disappeared into the night, leaving behind a battered and broken reminder of why no one dared to cross Colette on her turf.