Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 191

CHAPTER 147 PART 1

The knife pressed harder against Cesar Pendleton’s neck, forcing him down. Even now, with hundreds of black- suited men surrounding him and his own forces completely subdued, his pride refused to break completely.

“You think this is over?” Cesar spat, his voice hoarse but defiant. “You think humiliating me here changes anything? I’ve survived worse than you, Steel. I’ve crawled through hell and back. This is nothing-NOTHING!”

Marcus stood a few feet away, hands still casually in his pockets, his dragon eyes watching with clinical detachment. “Still talking. That’s your problem, Pendleton. You never knew when to shut up.”

“Make me lick my own shoes?” Cesar’s face twisted with rage even as tears of humiliation streaked down his cheeks. “I’d rather die than-”

His hand moved with desperate speed, pulling a hidden dart from inside his jacket sleeve. The black-suited man restraining him was his target-one quick strike to the throat, grab his gun, then put a bullet in Marcus Steel’s smug face. It was a desperate plan, but desperation was all he had left.

The dart flew from his fingers.

It never reached its target.

A flash of white cut through the air with a sound like tearing silk. Cesar screamed, his hand jerking back as his thumb separated from his hand, blood spraying across the concrete. The dart clattered harmlessly to the ground.

Marcus lowered his hand, a playing card held between two fingers, its edge now stained red with blood. “Did you really think I’d let you try something that pathetic?”

Cesar clutched his mutilated hand, shock and agony warring on his face. “My… my thumb… you… you…”

“A playing card,” Marcus said conversationally, examining the edge. “That’s all it took. Dragon energy can make even paper deadlier than steel. But I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about real power, would you?”

The leader of the black-suited men grabbed Cesar by the hair, forcing his head down toward his shoes. “Enough games. Do it now, or lose the other thumb.”

“No… please…” Cesar’s resistance finally shattered completely. “I can’t… don’t make me…”

“You were so eager earlier,” Marcus observed, his voice devoid of sympathy. “So confident. So sure of yourself. Where’s that energy now, Pendleton? Where’s that big mouth?”

Another black-suited fighter kicked Cesar’s knees, forcing him lower. His face was now inches from his own expensive leather shoes, the same ones he’d demanded Marcus lick just minutes ago.

“I’ll kill you,” Cesar sobbed. “I swear to God, I’ll-”

The knife pressed deeper, drawing a thin line of blood. The message was clear: comply or die.

Cesar’s tongue touched the leather.

The sound of his broken sobs filled the construction site as he was forced to thoroughly lick every inch of his own shoes, his blood mixing with dirt and humiliation. His men, those still conscious, looked away in shame-not for him, but for themselves, for ever following such a broken man.

When it was finally over, Cesar collapsed onto his side, retching and weeping uncontrollably.

Marcus turned to the leader of his forces. “Strip him. Beat him until he can’t stand. Then dump him at the park entrance for everyone to see.”

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Miguel Abbott, watching from a distance, stepped forward hesitantly. “Boss… shouldn’t we just finish him? A man like this-leaving him alive is dangerous. He’ll seek revenge.”

Marcus’s smile was cold. “Death would be mercy. No, Pendleton deserves to live with this. Let him crawl back to whatever hole he came from, knowing that everyone saw him broken, humiliated, and utterly defeated. That’s a punishment worse than any bullet.”

“Please…” Cesar reached out with his remaining hand. “Just kill me… please…”

“No,” Marcus said simply. “You don’t get that relief.”

Twenty minutes later, Cesar Pendleton was dragged to the park entrance-naked, beaten black and blue, barely conscious. His reputation in Five-River Province, built over decades of violence and intimidation, died in a single night. The Dragon King had spoken.

The evening sky had turned deep purple by the time Marcus returned to the main city district. His phone buzzed with a message from Miguel-Elize Yarrow was awake and asking for him. He sighed, already anticipating the headache that conversation would bring.

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