Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 229

CHAPTER 165 PART 2

The absolute certainty in his voice was almost hypnotic. Miguel had built his fortune on reading people, on understanding power dynamics and social hierarchies. And everything he’d learned over decades screamed that Marcus Steel should be terrified right now-should be begging for protection, negotiating peace, finding any way to de-escalate.

Instead, the Dragon King stood calm and unbothered, as if the combined wrath of Five – River Province’s most powerful families was nothing more than an inconvenient distraction.

“What do you need from me?” Miguel asked finally.

“Keep Pearl on the Water secure,” Marcus replied. “Maintain your current defensive posture. Don’t back down when people call asking you to hand me over. And trust that I can handle whatever comes.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Marcus confirmed. “Everything else-the Shadow Warriors, the bounty hunters, the alliance forming against me I’ll handle personally.”

Miguel nodded slowly. He’d thrown his lot in with the Dragon King. There was no walking back from that now.

“I’ll hold the line here,” Miguel promised.

“I know you will,” Marcus said simply. Then he turned to Ives, who’d been silent since mentioning the attack.” You should rest. You’ve had a traumatic evening.”

“I watched you kill four men,” Ives whispered. “Like it was nothing. Like you’ve done it a thousand times before.”

“I have,” Marcus admitted without shame. “Death is part of my world, Ives. It always has been. If that frightens you, distance yourself now before it gets worse.”

Ives looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head. “I’m not running. I said I wanted to prove I could be useful. That I could be part of your world. I meant it.”

“Even knowing what that world looks like?”

“Especially knowing,” Ives confirmed, her voice gaining strength. “Better to stand with the Dragon King than cower with the sheep.”

Marcus nodded approvingly. “Go rest anyway. Tomorrow will likely be worse than tonight.”

As Ives headed inside, Allen received a phone call. He listened for a moment, his expression darkening, then approached Miguel.

“Sir, that was our contact at Five- River General Hospital. Atlas Lancaster just came out of emergency surgery.”

“And?” Miguel asked.

“He’s alive. Stable. But…” Allen hesitated. “The doctors say his leg can’t be saved. The damage was too severe. He’ll be permanently crippled.”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Miguel turned to Marcus, horror dawning on his face. “Boss, you didn’t just humiliate him. You ended his future. Atlas was competent-ambitious-he was being groomed to take over the Lancaster Family’s operations. A crippled heir can’t fulfill that role. You’ve destroyed their succession plan.”

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“Good,” Marcus said simply.

“Good?” Miguel’s voice cracked. “Boss, this makes it personal! This isn’t about pride anymore! This is about-

“About consequences,” Marcus interrupted. “Atlas sent assassins after me. Tried to kidnap Elize. Threatened everyone in that room. And now he’s learning that actions have consequences. Permanent ones.”

Twenty miles away, in Five-River General Hospital’s exclusive private wing, those consequences were becoming brutally clear.

Atlas Lancaster lay unconscious in the recovery room, surrounded by the most advanced medical equipment money could buy. Tubes and wires connected him to machines that beeped and hummed, monitoring every vital sign, ensuring his survival.

But survival wasn’t the same as recovery.

Dr. Harrison Chen stood before the Lancaster Family patriarch-Richard Lancaster, a man in his seventies whose presence still commanded absolute authority despite his age. The family had gathered: Atlas’s father Thomas, his mother Catherine, his younger brother Elijah, and various uncles and advisors who formed the inner circle of Lancaster power.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Chen said, his voice professional but sympathetic. “We did everything possible. Three surgeons, six hours of surgery, the best orthopedic specialists in the province. But the damage was too severe.”

“Explain ‘too severe,” Richard Lancaster demanded, his voice like gravel.

“The table that struck his leg-” Dr. Chen consulted his notes, “-weighed approximately three hundred pounds. But the force of impact suggests it was driven down with significantly more strength than gravity alone would account for. Multiple fractures, shattered kneecap, destroyed ligaments, severed nerves. We’ve stabilized the leg, but functionality… I’m sorry, Mr. Lancaster. Your grandson will never walk normally again.”

“Never?” Catherine Lancaster’s voice broke. “There must be something-specialists in other countries- experimental treatments-”

“We can consult with international experts,” Dr. Chen agreed gently. “But ma’am, I’ve been a surgeon for thirty years. I’ve seen catastrophic injuries from car accidents, industrial machinery, combat wounds. The damage to Atlas’s leg is among the worst I’ve encountered. Even with the best care, he’ll require a cane or crutch for the rest of his life. Running, sports, normal mobility-those are gone.”

Thomas Lancaster stood abruptly, his chair screeching against the polished floor. “Who did this? Who has a name?

“Marcus Steel,” Elijah answered quietly. “I saw the videos. He lifted the table over his head and drove it down with both hands. Like he was… like he was trying to destroy Atlas’s leg specifically.”

“He succeeded,” Richard Lancaster said, his voice cold and final. He walked to the recovery room’s observation window, looking at his unconscious grandson through the glass.

Atlas had been groomed since childhood to inherit the Lancaster legacy. Sharp mind. Charismatic personality. Enough ruthlessness to command respect but enough sophistication to navigate high society. The perfect heir for a family that straddled the line between legitimate business and underground power.

And now he lay broken, his future literally shattered by a man most of the family had never heard of until three days ago.

“Tell me about Marcus Steel,” Richard ordered.

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Elijah pulled out his phone, scrolling through information he’d been compiling. “Twenty-seven years old. Appeared in Five- River Province less than a week ago. Connected to the Abbott Family somehow-Miguel Abbott treats him with unusual deference. Married to Quinn Hartford, though there are rumors-‘

“I don’t care about rumors,” Richard interrupted. “I care about capabilities. How does a twenty-seven-year-old nobody have the strength to cripple my grandson?”

“The videos show-” Elijah hesitated, “-show strength that doesn’t seem possible. He lifted that table effortlessly. Moved faster than normal. There are witnesses claiming he killed four professional assassins tonight without being injured.”

“Assassins?” Thomas looked up sharply. “Someone else is already moving against him?”

“Bounty hunters,” Elijah corrected. “There’s a price on his head now-fifty thousand alive. The underground is buzzing about it.”

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