Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Jaxon Brand entered the Imperial Hall like a conquering emperor-designer coat draped over his shoulders without bothering to put his arms through the sleeves, expensive cigarette dangling from his lips, every movement calculated to display maximum arrogance. Behind him flooded a small army of intoxicated young men, their designer clothes wrinkled, their eyes glazed with alcohol and entitlement.

The Hartford Group employees froze in absolute terror.

These weren’t street thugs like Silas Cooper’s crew. These were the children of Grayson City’s elite- politicians’ sons, business heirs, old money brats who could destroy careers and lives with a single phone call to daddy. The kind of people who’d never faced consequences for anything in their pampered

existences.

“What the hell happened here?” Jaxon demanded, his voice carrying theatrical outrage. His eyes scanned the destruction-broken furniture, blood stains, the lingering smell of violence. “This is my building. My birthday. And someone turned it into a war zone?”

His gaze landed on Silas Cooper, still being supported by his remaining conscious thugs near the exit. Blood covered the enforcer’s face, glass embedded in his skin, his breathing shallow and pained.

“Silas?” Jaxon’s voice sharpened with genuine surprise. “Silas fucking Cooper? What happened to your

face?”

Every eye in the room turned to Marcus, waiting for Silas to point his finger, to identify his attacker, to unleash whatever hell Jaxon Brand could summon.

But Silas’s eyes found Marcus standing calmly in the center of the hall, found those dragon eyes glowing with barely suppressed power, and felt pure terror spike through his broken body.

“I… I fell,” Silas gasped.

Silence crashed over the Imperial Hall.

“You fell?” Jaxon repeated, disbelief evident. “Silas Cooper, the man who’s put half of Grayson City’s criminals in the hospital, fell on his own?”

“Slipped,” Silas added weakly, blood dripping from his chin. “Hit my face on a table. My fault. Just… clumsy tonight.”

His thugs stared at their boss with shocked expressions, but none of them contradicted him. They’d seen what Marcus Steel could do. They’d heard about Bruno King and the Soul-Chasing Token. They knew better than to speak.

Jaxon studied Silas for a long moment, his arrogant sneer faltering into genuine confusion. Silas Cooper was known throughout the city as one of the hardest men alive-feared, ruthless, someone who’d never backed down from anything.

And now he was lying to cover for whoever had destroyed him.

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“Unbelievable,” Jaxon muttered, shaking his head. “Silas Cooper’s gone soft.” He waved dismissively Get out of here. Go cry about your fall somewhere else.”

Silas didn’t need to be told twice. His thugs practically dragged him toward the exit, leaving trails of blood, their departure almost pathetically eager.

Jaxon turned back to the Imperial Hall, his cigarette smoke curling in the chandelier light. His eyes swept across the Hartford Group employees huddled at their tables, then landed on Marcus and Quinn standing together near the head table.

“Someone here knows what really happened,” Jaxon announced, his voice carrying casual menace. Someone beat Silas Cooper into lying to my face. And I don’t appreciate liars in my building.”

“Your building?” Quinn’s voice cut through the tension, her Saintess aura flaring defensively. “The Azure Pierce isn’t owned by the Brand family.”

Jaxon’s attention focused on her completely. His eyes raked over Quinn’s elegant dress, her glowing Saintess aura, the obvious power and beauty she radiated.

“A Saintess,” he said, genuine interest coloring his tone. “How interesting. You know who I am,

sweetheart?”

“I know arrogance when I see it,” Quinn replied coldly.

Jaxon laughed-loud, unrestrained, genuinely amused. “I like you! Got spirit!” He gestured broadly at the room. “But you should know-I’m Jaxon Brand. The only son of Gregory Brand. And when I say this is my building, I mean my family owns enough of this city that nowhere is not mine.”

The Hartford employees exchanged terrified glances. Now they understood.

Jaxon Brand. The most feared and reckless heir in Grayson City. The young man who’d put three people in the hospital last year for accidentally bumping into him at a club. Who’d destroyed a restaurant because they got his order wrong. Who operated with absolute impunity because the Brand family’s wealth and influence made him essentially untouchable.

“Oh God,” Robert Chen whispered. “We’re dead. We’re actually dead.”

“Someone should call the police,” Jessica suggested weakly.

“Are you insane?” another employee hissed. “The Brands own half the police department!”

Jaxon took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoke toward the chandelier. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he announced with the casual authority of someone used to total obedience. “Someone in this room beat up Silas Cooper. Someone disrespected my birthday celebration. And I’m going to find out who.”

He snapped his fingers. His small army of drunk heirs pressed forward, forming a wall of entitled

aggression.

“Start from the left,” Jaxon commanded, pointing at the Hartford Group employees. “One by one. Ask

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them what they saw. And if anyone refuses to answer…” His smile turned vicious. “Well, we’ll make them kneel until their memory improves.”

“You can’t do this!” Blair Ryan’s voice cracked with fear. “This is assault! You can’t just-”

One of Jaxon’s friends-a thick-necked linebacker type-stepped toward Blair menacingly. “Can’t we?”

Quinn’s Saintess aura exploded outward, golden light filling the Imperial Hall with divine pressure. Touch any of my employees and you’ll answer to the Hartford family and the Saintess Council!”

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