Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 100

CHAPTER 100 PART 1

Marcus and Quinn’s Mansion – 10:23 PM

The grand foyer had barely stopped echoing with the sound of the door closing behind Karen and Brandon when Karen’s voice rose from outside, shrill and theatrical.

“ASSAULT! I’ve been ASSAULTED! In my own daughter’s home!” Karen’s shrieking carried through the mansion’s thick walls with practiced volume-the kind of performance honed through years of manipulating situations to her advantage. “I’m calling the police! I’m suing! I demand compensation!”

Marcus walked to the window, his dragon senses mapping the scene outside with perfect clarity. Karen stood on the circular driveway, clutching her reddened cheek with one hand while the other pointed accusingly at the mansion. Brandon hovered nearby, looking uncomfortable but saying nothing as usual.

“She’s not actually hurt,” Sophia Chen observed calmly from her position near the door. “The slap was controlled -enough to shock but not injure. She’s performing for attention.”

“And money,” David Park added with professional detachment. “Classic shakedown technique. Create a scene, threaten legal action, wait for the settlement offer to make her go away.”

Quinn stood frozen in the living room, her Saintess aura flickering between embarrassment and cold fury. “I’m sorry. My mother has always been… difficult.”

“Difficult is having opinions about dinner,” Marcus said quietly. “What your mother is doing is extortion.”

Outside, Karen’s performance reached fever pitch. She stumbled dramatically, one hand pressed to her forehead. I’m dizzy! I’m seeing spots! That violent woman gave me a concussion! I need an ambulance! And a lawyer! This is worth at least a hundred thousand dollars in damages!”

Sophia exchanged a glance with David, then walked outside with the fluid grace of someone who’d ended lives in at least seven countries. Karen, mid-swoon, froze when she saw the Willson Pavilion operative approaching.

“Mrs. Ridge,” Sophia said conversationally, pulling a tactical knife from her belt, “shall we discuss your ‘injuries’ more thoroughly?”

The blade gleamed in the mansion’s exterior lighting-six inches of specialized steel designed for maximum efficiency.

Karen’s theatrical performance evaporated instantly. Her hand dropped from her forehead. Her “dizziness” vanished. She backed away from Sophia with genuine terror replacing her fake distress.

“What-what are you doing with that?” Karen’s voice climbed an octave, all pretense of injury gone.

“Demonstrating the difference between a controlled slap and actual violence,” Sophia replied, her tone utterly pleasant despite the weapon in her hand. “You claimed assault. You threatened legal action. So let me be very clear about what assault actually looks like.”

She took one step forward. Karen took three steps back.

“You see, Mrs. Ridge,” Sophia continued, “my mandate is to protect the Sacred Saintess. That includes protecting her from emotional manipulation, financial extortion, and theatrical performances designed to generate guilt and compliance.”

Another step forward. Karen actually whimpered.

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” Sophia said. “You’re going to get in your car. You’re going to drive away. And

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you’re going to forget about lawsuits, compensation, and police reports. Because if you pursue any of those options-”

She let the blade catch the light again, the implicit threat hanging in the air like smoke.

“Please!” Karen’s voice cracked, all her earlier arrogance completely shattered. She dropped to her knees on the driveway, hands clasped in supplication. “Please, I’m sorry! I won’t sue! I won’t call anyone! Just-just don’t hurt me!”

Brandon finally found his spine enough to help his wife to her feet, practically dragging her toward their Mercedes. “We’re leaving! Right now! No trouble!”

Sophia watched them scramble into their car with clinical detachment, only sheathing her knife once their taillights disappeared down the long driveway.

When she returned inside, Marcus nodded his approval. “Thank you. For handling that.”

“The Sacred Saintess deserves protection from all threats,” Sophia replied. “Including family members who weaponize guilt and obligation.”

Quinn stood in the center of her living room, her cold indifference firmly back in place despite the turmoil underneath. “My mother will retaliate somehow. She always does. She’ll spread rumors, turn other family members against us-”

“Let her,” Marcus interrupted gently, taking Quinn’s hands in his. “We’re not playing their games anymore. You’re a Sacred Saintess, Quinn. You deserve better than parents who treat you like property.”

Quinn’s Saintess aura pulsed with conflicting emotions-relief, guilt, gratitude, fear. “I just wanted them to see me. To value me for once instead of always comparing me to impossible standards.”

“Their blindness isn’t your failure,” Marcus said quietly. “Some people are incapable of recognizing worth when it stands right in front of them.”

He kissed her forehead, his dragon aura wrapping protectively around her divine energy. “Get some rest. It’s been a long night.”

Quinn nodded, heading upstairs to their master suite while Marcus remained in the living room, his mind already shifting from family drama to more lethal concerns.

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CHAPTER 100 PART 2

Master Suite Study – 11:47 PM

Marcus sat at his desk, scrolling through encrypted messages on his secure laptop. Aaron had forwarded intelligence reports throughout the evening-updates on Cameron Brand’s movements, potential threats from the Potter family, security assessments for Hartford Group.

Then one message made Marcus go absolutely still.

DARK WEB BULLETIN – PRIORITY ALERT

Open Bounty: Marcus Steel and Aaron Jackson

Amount: $50 million each

Sponsor: Anonymous (traced to Swiss accounts linked to Brand family holdings)

Status: ACTIVE – 13 Shadow Warrior operatives confirmed en route to Grayson City

Threat Level: EXTREME

Marcus read the details twice, his dragon senses processing implications with cold efficiency. Thirteen Shadow Warriors-elite assassins, each one capable of taking down master cultivators. Fifty million per target meant serious resources, serious commitment.

Cameron Brand wasn’t just seeking revenge. He was funding a systematic extermination.

The list of operatives read like a who’s who of the assassination world: Phantom Blade, Silent Death, Viper’s Kiss, Ghost Walker-codenames that made even hardened criminals nervous. These weren’t thugs or mercenaries. These were artists of death, each one worth their exorbitant fees.

And all thirteen were coming to Grayson City.

For three years, Marcus had hidden his true nature. Three years of pretending to be powerless, of enduring insults and humiliation, of watching his wife suffer without revealing the ancient power that could end threats with a thought.

Part of him-the dragon part that predated human civilization-whispered that hiding was weakness. That revealing his true nature and obliterating his enemies completely would solve everything.

But another part-the part that had grown over three years of marriage to Quinn Hartford-understood that some things were worth protecting through restraint rather than overwhelming force.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number that didn’t appear in any contact list, that existed only in his perfect

memory.

The call connected after a single ring. No greeting, just silence waiting for him to speak.

“Thirteen Shadow Warriors inbound,” Marcus said quietly. “Bounty of fifty million each on me and Aaron. Traced to Cameron Brand through Swiss accounts.”

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