Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 209

CHAPTER 156 PART 1

The beer bottle felt perfectly weighted in Marcus’s hand-cold glass, solid construction, just heavy enough to make an impact. His dragon senses had already calculated trajectory, force, and timing before his fingers even closed around it.

The bald enforcer-whose name tag identified him as Nathan-watched Marcus with growing amusement. In his world, intimidation was currency. Fear was respect. And this young man standing calmly with a beer bottle looked about as threatening as a house cat.

“Put that down before you hurt yourself,” Nathan suggested, his smile revealing gold teeth. “This doesn’t have to get messy. We just want the girl. Hand her over, and the rest of you walk out of here with all your teeth intact.”

Ives grabbed Marcus’s other arm, her earlier bravado completely evaporated. “Marcus, don’t. There are too many of them. We should just—”

“Just what?” Marcus’s voice was quiet, conversational. “Let them drag Elize away to whatever Atlas has planned? Let them think they can walk into any room and take whoever they want?”

“It’s not our fight!” Ives hissed, genuine fear in her eyes now. “You saw how they reacted to family names. They don’t care who we’re connected to. If we fight back-”

“We’ll win,” Marcus finished simply.

Nathan laughed outright now. “Kid’s got balls, I’ll give him that. Stupid balls, but balls nonetheless.” He gestured to his men. “Since he wants to play hero, let’s teach him what happens to heroes in the real world. Break his legs first. Then we take the girl.”

Four men moved forward, cracking knuckles and checking weapons. They’d done this countless times before- intimidated, brutalized, collected. Just another Tuesday night in Five-River Province’s darker corners.

Marcus stepped forward to meet them, the beer bottle still in hand.

“Wait,” he said, his tone shifting to something almost friendly. “Before this gets ugly, let me offer you gentlemen a drink. Professional courtesy, you understand. One last toast before the violence starts.”

Nathan hesitated, genuinely confused by the offer. His men stopped mid-advance, looking to their boss for guidance.

“A toast?” Nathan repeated slowly. “You’re offering us a drink?”

“Why not?” Marcus lifted the bottle slightly. “You’re just doing your job, right? Following Atlas Lancaster’s orders. Nothing personal. So let’s be civilized about it. One drink, then we can all get on with our evening.”

The absurdity of the situation created a moment of genuine uncertainty. Nathan’s career had been built on reading situations, predicting violence, staying ahead of danger. But this-a target offering a toast before his own beating -didn’t fit any pattern he recognized.

“You’re out of your mind,” Nathan finally decided, though his tone held less confidence than before.

“Probably,” Marcus agreed cheerfully. He walked forward, closing the distance between himself and Nathan until they were barely three feet apart. “But humor me. One drink. For old times’ sake.”

Nathan looked at the bottle, then at Marcus’s calm expression, then back at the bottle. Something didn’t add up. Nobody stayed this composed when facing overwhelming force. Unless…

Unless they had a plan.

1/2

MARINO PARTY

+25 Bonus

But before Nathan could voice his suspicion, Marcus made his move.

The bottle came up and around in a perfect arc, driven by dragon-enhanced strength that multiplied human force several times over. It connected with Nathan’s skull with a sound like a watermelon hitting pavement-wet, final, absolutely devastating.

Beer exploded outward, mixing with blood as Nathan’s eyes rolled back. He was unconscious before his knees buckled, dropping like a puppet with cut strings.

The room erupted into chaos.

“Nathan!” one of the thugs shouted, reaching for his boss even as Marcus was already moving again.

Elize screamed, pressing herself against the far wall. Her hands fumbled for her phone, fingers shaking so badly she nearly dropped it twice before managing to dial. The call connected, rang once, twice-

“This number is no longer accepting calls from this contact.”

The automated message hit her like a physical blow. She tried again. Same result. Tried her father’s office line. Disconnected. Her mother’s cell. Blocked.

“No,” she whispered, the phone slipping from numb fingers. “No, they wouldn’t—”

“Oh, they would,” Atlas called from his safe position by the door, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Did you really think the Yarrow Family would go to war with the Lancasters over you? After the embarrassment you caused them? Sweetheart, your family sold you out the moment they heard I wanted payback.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify