Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

Karen Ridge’s voice carried across the private room with cruel satisfaction. “Look at him! This is the man Quinn married! A worthless drunk who can’t even handle expensive wine! Riley, on the other hand-” she gestured admiringly at the absent Riley, who’d excused himself moments ago, “—is everything a Sacred Saintess deserves! Successful, refined, sober!”

“Absolutely,” Brandon Hartford agreed, his earlier reservations completely evaporated in the face of Marcus’s apparent collapse. “This marriage has been a mistake from the beginning. Tonight just proves it definitively. The divorce will be a relief for everyone involved.”

Mother Ridge nodded vigorously. “The sacred bloodline corrects its own errors. Quinn’s Saintess intuition will guide her to Riley now that she sees her husband’s true nature.”

None of them realized they were praising a man who was at this very moment-in the bathroom coordinating a street attack against their daughter’s husband.

None of them understood that the “worthless drunk” had more power in his little finger than Riley Ridge would

accumulate in ten lifetimes.

Father Ridge leaned forward with concern that was genuine, if misdirected. “Son, perhaps we should reconsider ordering more wine? The bill is already quite substantial—”

“It’s FINE, Father!” Riley’s voice carried from across the room as he returned from the restroom, his phone tucked away, his smile brilliant with false generosity. “What’s money compared to helping a friend through difficult times? Besides-” his eyes found Quinn with calculated warmth, “a Sacred Saintess deserves to be celebrated properly. Even if her husband doesn’t appreciate it, I do.”

He snapped his fingers at the sommelier. “Three more bottles of the Pétrus. Actually, make it four. Let’s make this a night to remember.”

Each bottle cost eighty thousand dollars. Riley was now committed to over half a million in wine alone, not counting the elaborate meal he’d ordered, the private room fees, and everything else.

His parents exchanged worried glances-they were wealthy, but not wealthy enough to throw away money like this casually. Riley’s overseas job had been lucrative, but he wasn’t a millionaire despite his bragging,

But Riley waved off their concerns. “It’s an investment,” he said quietly to his father. “In my future. A Sacred Saintess as a wife is worth any price.”

What he didn’t say what he couldn’t say in front of Quinn-was that he’d just finalized arrangements with Flynn Sawyer. Twenty thousand dollars for a “random attack” that would leave Marcus beaten and humiliated, giving Riley the perfect opportunity to play hero.

The investment would pay dividends far beyond money.

Riley shot Marcus a look of triumph as he returned to his seat-a look Marcus met with bleary, unfocused eyes that seemed not to register the threat.

Perfect, Riley thought. The drunk fool has no idea what’s coming.

Flynn “Snake” Sawyer entered Azure Breeze Restaurant dressed in business casual-expensive enough to blend with the upscale clientele, but not so flashy as to draw attention. His gang of five followed at intervals, spreading throughout the restaurant like they were individual diners rather than a coordinated unit.

Professional. Practiced. Exactly what Riley was paying for.

1/2

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Flynn spotted the private room-saw Marcus through the half-open door, slouched in his chair, multiple empty wine bottles on the table before him. The target looked properly drunk, defenseless, perfect.

He grabbed a glass of red wine from a passing waiter’s tray, held it casually, and began walking past the private room’s entrance. His angle was calculated-he’d “stumble,” spill the wine on Marcus’s expensive suit, and when Marcus reacted with drunken aggression, Flynn and his boys would be “forced” to defend themselves.

Violently.

Publicly.

With Riley Ridge waiting in the wings to intervene at the perfect moment, proving himself the superior man.

Flynn passed behind Marcus’s chair, his grip on the wine glass loosening deliberately, the red liquid already tilting toward Marcus’s shoulder-

And then Flynn’s eyes registered something his brain took a moment to process.

Marcus’s face. Those eyes. That dragon-eyed stare that had been burned into Flynn’s memory three hours ago when Aaron Jackson had declared this man his elder brother.

No.

No, no, no, this can’t be-

Flynn’s hand froze. The wine glass stopped mid-tilt. His entire body went rigid with primal terror.

This was Marcus Steel. Aaron Jackson’s elder brother. The man Flynn had been specifically warned never to touch, never to disrespect, never to even think about crossing.

And Riley Ridge had just paid him to attack this man.

Had just set him up to assault someone protected by the most dangerous person in Grayson City.

The wine glass slipped from Flynn’s nerveless fingers and shattered on the floor.

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