Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 225

CHAPTER 163 PART 2

“Black sedan. Three cars back. Been with us since we left Azure Water.” Marcus’s voice remained calm.” Professional tail. They’re good, but not good enough.”

Ives looked back through the rear window, trying to spot the vehicle Marcus had mentioned. “Are they Lancaster Family?”

“Probably,” Marcus confirmed. “Atlas’s people would have called for backup the moment things went wrong. They’ve been waiting to see where we went.”

“We’re five minutes from Pearl on the Water,” Allen said, his phone already out. “I can have twenty armed men at

the entrance before-”

“No,” Marcus interrupted.

“Boss-”

“No,” Marcus repeated firmly. “Stop the car.”

“Mr. Steel, with respect, stopping makes us vulnerable. If there are more vehicles waiting ahead-”

“Then I deal with them,” Marcus said simply. “Stop. The. Car.”

Allen’s jaw tightened, but years of following orders won out over tactical concerns. He signaled the driver, who pulled over to the shoulder near a stretch of woods that bordered the highway.

“What are you doing?” Ives demanded, fear creeping into her voice again.

“What I should have done in the first place,” Marcus replied, opening his door. “Fighting my own battles instead of hiding behind other people’s protection.”

He stepped out onto the dark roadside, the city lights barely reaching this far. Behind them, the black sedan that had been following slowed, then pulled over about fifty yards back.

“Marcus!” Ives leaned out. “Get back in! You can’t just-”

“Go,” Marcus told Allen. “Take her back to Pearl on the Water. Tell Miguel Abbott what happened. Let him prepare whatever response he thinks necessary.”

“I’m not leaving you here alone,” Allen protested.

“Yes, you are,” Marcus said with dragon authority that made argument feel impossible. “Because if you stay, they’ll target you too. And I don’t need Miguel Abbott’s head of security getting killed protecting me. That would complicate things.”

Allen looked ready to argue further, but the black sedan’s doors were opening. Four men in dark clothing emerged, moving with the practiced coordination of professionals.

“Go,” Marcus repeated. “Now.”

Allen made a decision-the kind that came from years of weighing risks and knowing when to retreat. “You better survive this, Mr. Steel. Miguel will have my head if you don’t.”

The SUV pulled away, accelerating quickly back toward the city proper. Ives’s face was pressed against the rear window, watching Marcus standing alone on the dark roadside as four armed men approached.

Marcus turned his full attention to his pursuers. They spread out into a tactical formation-two flanking left, two

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right-designed to surround and eliminate. Professional execution. Military training, probably.

“Marcus Steel,” the lead man called out, his voice carrying authority. “You’re coming with us.”

“Am I?” Marcus asked mildly.

“Our employer wants to have a conversation about what happened tonight,” the man continued. “About broken legs and shattered reputations. You can come peacefully, or we make it painful. Your choice.”

“Who’s your employer?” Marcus asked, though he already knew.

“Does it matter?” The man smiled. “You crippled one of the Four Great Young Masters. Did you really think you’d just walk away from that?”

“I walked away from the room,” Marcus pointed out. “I’m still walking. So yes, I did think that.”

“Brave words for someone surrounded by armed professionals,” another man said from the left flank.

Marcus’s dragon aura began to manifest-subtle at first, just a pressure in the air, but growing steadily stronger. You think four is enough?”

“For one man?” The lead enforcer laughed. “More than enough. Last chance-come quietly, or we break every bone in your body before dragging you in.”

“Interesting,” Marcus observed. “You’re planning to break my bones. But I already broke Atlas Lancaster’s leg. So really, you’d just be following my example. Where’s the intimidation in that?”

The enforcers exchanged glances. This wasn’t how targets usually responded-with mockery and calm confidence instead of fear.

“You’ve got a smart mouth,” the leader said, his smile fading. “That’s fine. We’ll enjoy shutting it.”

They moved in unison, closing the tactical net, hands reaching for weapons and striking positions.

Marcus didn’t move. Just stood there, watching them approach with dragon eyes that saw every detail-the slight limp in the left flanker’s gait (old injury, probably knee), the way the right flanker favored his dominant hand ( boxer’s stance, used to leading with power), the leader’s careful positioning (commander, not front-line fighter), the fourth man hanging back (designated shooter, weapon probably already drawn under his jacket).

“One question before we start,” Marcus said conversationally. “If I hadn’t stayed behind-if I’d kept driving with Allen and Ives-what would you have done?”

“Followed you to Pearl on the Water,” the leader admitted. “Waited for an opportunity. Eventually got what we came for.”

“Eventually,” Marcus repeated. “So this actually saves us all time. How considerate of me.”

“What?”

“I stayed behind,” Marcus explained patiently, “so I could send you on your way properly. If I’d hidden in the Abbott Family’s protection, you’d have wasted days planning. This is more efficient.”

The leader’s expression hardened. “Send us on our way? Boy, you’re about to learn

“Together,” Marcus interrupted, his dragon aura suddenly flaring to full strength. The pressure made all four men stagger, their tactical formations breaking as instinct screamed warnings their training couldn’t override.” You said you were professionals. So let’s see it. All four of you. Attack together. Let’s make this interesting.”

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He extended one hand in invitation, his dragon eyes gleaming in the darkness.

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