The Dragon King

Blu Water Green Lake was more than just a restaurant nestled in Midwest City-it was a place that had, for better or worse, become the backdrop to Katharine's life. Known for its family-friendly atmosphere and thoughtful touches, like paper and crayons handed out by servers to restless children, it was also fully wheelchair accessible, welcoming a diverse crowd from the community.

She found herself tethered to Blue Water Green Lake, not by ambition but by circumstance. The regulars all knew the stories-how her father, Thomas Smith, had squandered their savings with reckless abandon in the haze of gambling and alcohol. Rumors rippled through the dining room and echoed in back corners, painting vivid tales of his late-night escapades and the mounting debts that gnawed at their family.

Yet Katharine persevered, refusing to allow whispers and pity to define her. She was trapped by the reality that few employers would tolerate the volatile presence of her father. On more than one occasion, he'd shown up at a new job, shouting and causing a scene, forcing managers to let her go. The Blue Water Green Lake was the only place where she could work undisturbed, even as she felt the walls of circumstance closing in.

This evening, as she prepared to close up, the sky outside had grown wild, illuminated by jagged flashes of lightning and shaken by the relentless thunder. The restaurant's windows rattled with each boom, the storm outside echoing the turmoil that churned within. Alone in the dim glow, Katharine moved from table to table, her mind heavy with memories and worries, unwilling to abandon her post until every last chore was done.

She could never shake the anger that simmered after her mother abandoned them, vanishing overseas and marrying a stranger she'd met while visiting a friend in England. When her mother returned, it was only to file for divorce-she left with almost nothing, except the paperwork proving her freedom from Thomas. That final, abrupt departure left Katharine feeling betrayed, forced to pick up the pieces her mother had left behind and shoulder burdens that were never meant to be hers. To make matters worse, all the money in their bank account had vanished. She made the tough decision to forgo college. In order to care for her father and prevent him from getting into any more trouble. With his reckless gambling and the constant calls from the banks about the loan, he had taken it out. Even the loan sharks started showing up at their apartment multiple times. Eventually, the landlord had enough, and they were forced to find a new place to live.

The sound of her ringing cellphone interrupted the silence, and she reluctantly answered, already aware that it could be the bank calling about her payment. She checked her phone, and it was her boss calling.

"Katharine, make sure you clean the bathroom because someone got sick and now there's vomit all over."

"Why not assign that to James before he left for the day?"

"You're aware that James has a weak stomach?"

"Boss, with all due respect... You could have convinced James to stay and assist me with tidying up the mess."

"I trusted you, Katherine, with the restaurant more than James."

She just hangs up on her boss before finishing speaking, she went to check the door to make sure it was locked before going into the back of the restaurant to clean. As she put the bucket and rag back into the kitchen, to see all the dirty dishes in the sink like before. She must clean the kitchen and bathroom so she can leave for the night. Katharine went into the closet to take out the hazard suit to clean up bodily waste in the bathroom, and she hated doing it.

Katherine proceeded to the bathroom. She didn't mind being alone in the restaurant at this hour; silence felt more like a companion than a threat, and the hum of the storm outside only sharpened her focus. This wasn't the first time her boss had given her the worst chores-she remembered her first day, scrubbing the aftermath of some unseen chaos while Jimmy dodged responsibility with a practiced shrug.

She entered the cramped cleaning closet, retrieving the disinfectant and dragging it near the open bathroom door. Flicking on the hot water hose, she sprayed down the wall, toilet, and every patch of tile she suspected might have been contaminated. Protective shoe covers shielded her from any misstep into the mess. Methodically, she doused the toilet, sink, and even the wall with the disinfectant, though the sharp chemical smell reminded her of how ineffective these supplies truly were-her boss always ordered the cheapest products, no match for stubborn viruses or lingering germs.

Katharine refused to use the battered mop that lurked behind the door; she'd seen too many smears, too many stains, and believed it harbored its own ecosystem of bacteria by now. Instead, she relied on a rotation of colored rags-blue for sinks, red for the toilet, yellow for the walls-and a sturdy scrub brush for the floor. The work was slow, and her fingers stung from the chemicals, but it was efficient and thorough, born from necessity and pride. This routine, though thankless, gave her a sense of control in a life otherwise dictated by chaos.

Just look out of the window to see that it's still raining even harder than before, sighing to herself, and rethinking of how she is to be getting home, checking the time. It was getting late as she checked the clock; it was 11:30 pm. She doesn't really want to catch a cab home, so she probably just walked home without an umbrella and hopes that her father is not out there gambling.

About an hour later, everything is completed. She left the trash by the back door as a reminder to take it out.

While charging her phone and listening to music in the office, Katharine noticed a sticky note from her boss.

"The delivery will come late. Please put everything away and leave the bill in the office,"

Jimmy

A hot shower is calling her name, but she has to wait for the food truck to arrive before she can go home. Besides that, after tidying up, she went to the door and saw someone standing in the rain. Finding it unsettling, she went back inside to watch videos on her phone until the delivery arrived. The office phone startled her, but she recognized the number - it was her boss calling - so she answered.

"Yes, Jimmy, I am waiting for the truck to come,"

"I tried calling your cellphone to let you know that the delivery truck would arrive in the morning, and I observed you had cleaned the kitchen and washed the dishes."

"Thank you for letting me go. I will see you Wednesday?"

"How about this? You did everything with no problem. I will give you an entire week with pay. I could let James and Emily take on your shifts,"

"Thanks, I will lock up,"

"Okay, I will see you next week,"

"Yes, you will,"

Katharine hangs up the phone, excited to have a week off at the same time as she wants to find another job. She gathers her things, turns off the lights, and leaves through the back door, taking out the trash with her before walking home in the rain despite the risk of getting sick. The apartment is not that far from where she works, just remember her bus goes to her street, and takes out her wallet. She has two dollars left, so she must use it to get home. Why does she feel like someone is following her? There were two people at the bus stop also for it, as the bus pulled up, she paid her way on and took a seat.

The White Diamond Casino shimmered with a ruthless allure, its velvet ropes and polished marble masking the desperation that often haunted its late-night denizens. Among the regulars stalked Thomas, his luck as threadbare as his wallet, yet his hopes undimmed by a string of losses at the VIP poker tables. Week after week, he returned, wagering borrowed chips in vain attempts to flip his fortunes, eyes darting toward every possible advantage. But luck, fickle and merciless, had turned its back on him.

Christopher Miller's office overlooked the main gaming hall-a vantage point that allowed him to witness Thomas's repeated defeats. For two months, Christopher had bankrolled Thomas, tossing him lifelines that vanished into the casino's hungry maw, never seeing a dollar returned. The repeated requests grated on Christopher's patience, especially when Thomas, convinced the next hand would save him, begged for just one more loan.

Tonight, however, the mood was different. A broad-shouldered bodyguard escorted Thomas into the office, not so much leading as hauling, knees scraping the plush carpet. Christopher didn't bother to mask his disdain; the spectacle was familiar, but his leniency was running thin. Thomas, disheveled and desperate, pleaded for another chance, yet Christopher's answer was firm: no more money until the debt was paid.

As Christopher turned around in his chair, he was met with the sight of Thomas, who appeared disheveled, with greasy stains on his attire and uncombed hair.

"Please, Mr. Miller, I need more time. I can pay it back next month," Thomas pleaded.

The fluorescent office lights only sharpened Thomas's haggardness-the gray sag of his cheeks, the quiver of his hands as he clutched his threadbare jacket. His eyes flicked from Christopher's impassive face to the ostentatious safe built into the wall, as if a mere glance could will its contents into his empty pockets. Yet there was something defiant left in him, a stubborn ember of hope that refused to die out.

Christopher exhaled, fingers drumming on his desk, measuring the silence. "You're out of options, Thomas," he said quietly, letting the weight of each word sink in. "This is the end of the line unless you have something new to offer-something real."

Desperation trembled through Thomas's voice as he leaned in, lowering it almost to a whisper. "There's got to be a way. Give me a week. I'll find it. I swear."

But Christopher's patience was worn thin, and the room was thick with the tension of debts unpaid and mercies exhausted. The hum of the casino below seemed a distant echo, a reminder that while fortunes shifted freely for some, the reckoning here was unyielding. Thomas, sensing that the last sliver of compassion was slipping away, shuffled his feet and stared at the carpet, searching for words that might stave off his ruin a little longer.

Christopher leaned back, gaze icy and unmoved. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, drawing stark shadows beneath his eyes. "I need something real, Thomas," he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation, "or this conversation is over."

Thomas swallowed hard. Panic and calculation flickered behind his weary eyes, and after a heavy pause, he straightened, voice trembling with the birth of a desperate idea.

"I've heard that same line too many times from you, Thomas," Christopher said, his voice filled with frustration."

"I am completely broke." "I have another idea," said Thomas. "I can offer you my daughter as repayment for my debt. If I do that, I will finally be able to clear my debt to you." Once I accomplish that, I won't borrow money from you anymore,"

"Let me make sure I understand this correctly - you're proposing to sell your daughter to me in order to settle your debt?"

"Yes, let me call my daughter to come,"

Thomas called her, but initially reached her voicemail. He smiled at Christopher and tried again; this time, she answered.

"Daughter, I need you to come and get me,"

"Dad, I am almost home. I just got off work. I need a shower. Can you just get a cab to take you home?"

"I know sweetie, and you know no taxies don't come over here. I would have to walk home, and you don't want that,"

"Alright, Alright. What is the name of this place?"

"The White Diamond Casino,"

"Dad, that's way across town, and it's pouring rain."

"I am going to ask Mr. Miller if he can have someone to pick you up?"

To prevent his daughter from hearing, Thomas concealed the phone with his hand.

"Could you send someone to pick up my daughter, Mr. Miller?

Katharine pushes the button for the bus to stop as she gets off the bus, she went to stay under an umbrella at a restaurant called Burger Restaurant.

"Dad, tell Mr. Miller I am at The Pearl Street on 34th Street, Burger Restaurant,"

"He heard you and he will send someone on the way look out for a 2017 Tesia Model S a blue color,"

"I will be waiting." Katherine hangs up the phone.

Katharine feels cold as the rain continues to fall, searching for Mr. Miller's car and checking the time. She is exhausted and dirty, and now she must meet a man her father owes money to. It seems her father can't stop squandering money, or he will meet a grim fate. Katharine covered her ears and closed her eyes to escape the incredibly loud thunder. While waiting, a drunk man came up to her with a bottle still in his hand, by Katharine just moved out of the way. But he keeps moving toward her until a man pulled her toward to protect her from the drunk man, give him the glared to scare him off.

"Are you Katharine?"

"Yes, that is me,"

"Please follow me to my car, Mr. Miller, and your father are waiting for you,"

Initially, Katharine was reluctant to accompany the man until she confirmed the car's identity, as she was concerned about being abducted and trafficked. Her father instructed her on various cars and even tested her knowledge on which ones were safe to drive. As she got inside, the car look and smelled brand new, like this person to the car off the showcase. At first, she was too afraid of getting inside because of her smell like sweat and didn't want to dirty the seat.

"Sorry, I smell, I just gotten off work. I didn't want your boss to see me like this to pick up my father. I hope he didn't give you any more problems,"

"It's alright miss, he just wants you to come and pick up your father,"

Even as Katharine apologized for her appearance, resentment simmered beneath her words. She was exhausted-not just from the long shift, the soaking rain, or the embarrassment of being collected by strangers, but from the ceaseless weight her father placed upon her. Each time she was pulled into another of his desperate schemes, forced to wait in the dark and cold for meetings with men like Mr. Miller, her anger grew sharper.

She hated what her father was becoming, hated the endless cycle of borrowed money and broken promises. How many times had she cleaned up his messes? How many times had she stood on unfamiliar streets, hoping nobody recognized her, wishing she could simply walk away? Yet still, she waited, duty and frustration knotting in her chest, her patience thinning with every drop of rain that slid down her neck. She was tired of loving someone whose choices only pushed them further apart.

Katharine stared down at her phone, thumbs numb from the string of texts that kept coming. She messaged her father, letting him know she was on her way, the engine humming beneath her, the city blurring past. It was a heavy message with finality-a silent vow that after today, she would never again bail him out, never enable his spiral into gambling and desperation.

Just as she set her phone aside, Mark's name flashed on the screen-a number she thought she'd left behind when she changed it after the breakup. The ache of memory pulsed inside her; she let the call ring through to voicemail, refusing to answer. She guessed-correctly-that it was her father who had passed her new number along, desperate for someone to fix what he'd broken.

A moment later, a new message arrived from Mark. She opened it, lips pressed tight, reading the words that left her colder than before.

"Marry me or paid me back for the money I loan your father,"

"I will never marry you and the money that my father got from you I will pay it, just give me some time,"

"You got until the end of the month to pay it back,"

Katharine just turns off her cellphone, just looks out of the window to see that they are going into the original town where this place that her father is at. Once she repays Mr. Miller and returns the money to her ex-boyfriend, who cheated on her with a co-worker. Katharine was certain that Mark had been cheating on her with a number of women. Every time she walked, people would laugh at her. Like two years ago, women would point at Katherine, then whisper.

"She didn't see that her boyfriend has been cheating on her with every female he sees," said by standard

"I know, right? I wouldn't show my face around town. She thinks he was faithful to her, come on now with these gifts, he just using her,"

She doesn't want to keep remembering that breakup, just wants to go on with her life, so she just sits back. They pulled up to the back of the building as the driver opens the door for her. The bodyguard opened the back door as she entered and didn't know where to go. The man who was in the passenger seat walked upstairs as, waiting for Katharine to follow him, the guard closed the door.

"Miss this way, follow me,"

Katharine just nodded, there are cameras in every corner so anything goes wrong, guards will come running. Why does she feel this weird sense coming from this place? The man opens the door into an office to see her father on his knee begging again for more money. She went up to her father to get him up from the ground just to look at Mr. Miller.

"Dad, I told you many times to stop this act. Do you really want to end up dead somewhere? I can't always save you,"

"I know sweety I had it in my hand, but I got too greedy,"

Mr. Miller has this look on his face as he watches Katharine talking to her father, it brings a small smile to the corner of his mouth. Mr. Miller just stared at Katharine with long brown hair, for a small woman she knows how to take a single gambling and alcoholic parent. However, she must take care of her father with all his troubles.

Mr. Miller, please accept my apologies for the trouble my father has caused you. How much money does he owe you?" asked Katharine.

"He owes me 20,000 dollars. Thomas, tell your daughter what you told me that you were going to be sell her to me to clear any debt you have," smile Mr. Miller.

Katharine's eyes widened, a storm of disbelief flickering across her face as Mr. Miller uttered words she never imagined hearing. She turned toward her father, whose gaze avoided hers, heavy with shame and regret. For a moment, she simply stared, searching for something in him that could explain the unthinkable suggestion. With a slow, steady breath, she shook her head-once, decisive-and reached down to unzip her faded backpack.

Inside, neatly stacked and counted, was every dollar she'd scraped together over months of tireless work. Without hesitation, she pulled out the entire sum-twenty thousand dollars, crisp bills and worn notes all the same-and placed them on Mr. Miller's desk with a quiet finality. Her hand lingered for a fraction of a second atop the money, as if imprinting her determination into the transaction.

She straightened, her voice unwavering, "This is everything you asked for. My father's debt is paid, and I will not be sold off like property." For the first time in the cramped office, Katharine's presence seemed to fill the space, her resolve radiating outward, silencing the moment with dignity.

Mr. Miller regarded her, intrigued and perhaps a touch amused, while her father finally managed to look up at his daughter, respect mingling with remorse in his eyes. She turned to him, silent but firm, ready to lead him out from the shadow of his mistakes.

"If my father indeed said that I would never work for you, here's your money. I'll ensure he never finds himself in a situation like this again. I've been shouldering my father's debt for years to prevent him from getting into trouble. I realize I should have let him be and moved on with my life, such as getting married and having children by now."

Katharine doesn't look worried, showing off her crystal blue eyes.

As she zips up her backpack, then helps her father out of the office until Mr. Miller says something that catches her attention.

"If I catch your father at any of my casinos, he will be throw out,"

Katharine said nothing just left his office once the door closed behind them. Mr. Miller closed his eyes to breathe in her mint chocolate that makes his mouth water. His right-hand man, Lucas, passed him a file about Katharine and her father; he opened it at once. Mr. Miller was surprised by her youth; she looked even younger than her 21 years. Forgoing her education, she's been working since she was fifteen to help her parents pay the bills. Katharine's excellent grades, combined with her restaurant job and extra credit, allowed her to graduate early and attend college. It shows that her mother ran off with another man, that when Thomas lost his job because of his drinking, which it led into gambling all the money that his daughter has been saving. She was getting her father out of trouble like paying for his bail, tapping at bars all over the town.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"My mate is going to be a handful, I want you to have one of the men watch over her when she works late,"

"Yes, sir. Do you want to mate with a human?"

"Don't question me. She is special. Just do what I say,"

Lucas did as he was told and bowed to leave. Katharine and her father stand outside in the rain, thinking to herself it's going to be expensive to get home if they catch a cab. Katherine was about to call a cab, holding her father's hand to keep him from wandering off. The familiar car approached, and the driver wound down the window.

"Mr. Miller told me to take you two homes,"

"Thank you, come on father,"

Thomas and Katharine got into the car, the driver closed the door with him getting wet in the rain; he got into the driver's seat, closed the door to take them home. In the backseat, Thomas couldn't help but stare at her backpack. Thomas was curious about how his daughter came to possess such a large sum of money. Katharine hears her father's stomach growling; she knows that he didn't eat anything just drink liquor all day. You could smell alcohol coming out of Thomas' pores that fulling up the car, because she also didn't eat anything while working at the restaurant.

"Dad, why did you give Mark my number, which I told you not to?"

"I borrowed money from him, baby girl. I acknowledge my obligation to reimburse him. I asked him to give me a little while; I play a couple of card games."

"Stop borrowed money from him, I don't want to see or talk to him,"

When Katharine glanced at her father, she could tell he had no response to her question. She must convince him to stay home and install a security system. She pulled out her phone it's 2:00 am. Lucky her boss gives her a week off so she can rest away from that place. The coworker will resent the identical workload. The driver pulled up to their place, but she didn't give the driver the address. How did this driver know where they lived? Maybe her father wrote down his personal information related to the games he played. The rain drumming on the car is the only sound, then silence fills the car.