Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42 PART 1

The Rolls-Royce glided through Grayson City’s nighttime streets, its engine a quiet purr that did nothing to disturb the heavy silence inside. Quinn sat in the passenger seat, her hands clenched in her lap, guilt weighing on her like physical pressure.

“Marcus,” she said finally, her voice small, “I’ll pay for the car repairs myself. It’s not fair that you have to cover damage my parents caused. I have some savings from my project manager bonus, and I can-”

“Quinn, it’s fine,” Marcus interrupted gently.

“It’s not fine!” Her voice cracked slightly. “Fifteen thousand dollars! That’s nearly everything I’ve saved! But it’s my responsibility. My family’s mess. You shouldn’t have to-”

“The car is mine,” Marcus reminded her. “Which means the repairs are my responsibility, not yours.”

“But you don’t have-” Quinn stopped herself, the automatic assumption dying on her lips. Because tonight had proven that every assumption she’d made about Marcus was wrong. “I don’t understand how you can afford a Rolls -Royce. Or black credit cards. Or any of this.”

Marcus smiled slightly, his eyes never leaving the road. “There’s a lot you don’t understand yet. But we have time.

Quinn opened her mouth to press further-then her Saintess senses suddenly exploded with warning. Divine energy crackled through her consciousness, screaming DANGER.

“Marcus, something’s wrong-

Marcus’s expression shifted instantly. The gentle husband disappeared, replaced by something cold and lethal. His foot slammed the brake, and the Rolls-Royce came to a controlled stop in the middle of the empty road.

“Stay in the car,” Marcus commanded, his voice carrying absolute authority. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t get out. No matter what you see.”

“Marcus, what-”

“Stay. Hidden.” His dragon eyes met hers for just a moment, and Quinn saw something ancient and terrifying looking back at her. “Trust me.”

He stepped out of the car, closing the door quietly behind him.

Quinn watched through the window as four black vans emerged from side streets, boxing in the Rolls-Royce with practiced precision. Doors slid open, and men poured out-a dozen thugs in dark clothing, all carrying weapons that gleamed in the streetlights. Baseball bats. Tire irons. Chains.

Quinn’s hand fumbled for her phone, her Saintess aura flaring with protective energy even though she knew it might not be enough against this many attackers.

The thugs’ leader–a scarred man with tattoos covering his neck-stepped forward with a metal pipe in his hand. “Marcus Steel. Jaxon Brand sends his regards.”

Jaxon Brand. The name made Quinn’s blood run cold. The Brand family heir they’d humiliated at Azure Pierce. Of course he’d send people for revenge.

“We got orders to break your legs,” the leader continued conversationally. “Both of them. Then dump you in the river. Mr. Brand was very specific about the river part. Said he wanted the fish to-”

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ONALITER 42 PART C

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Marcus moved.

Quinn barely saw it-one moment he was standing still, the next his fist connected with the leader’s face with a sound like a gunshot. The scarred man flew backward, his body lifting completely off the ground, crashing through the side panel of one of the vans.

The other thugs froze for half a heartbeat, then charged with coordinated aggression.

Marcus became a blur of movement.

His palm strike caught one thug in the solar plexus-ribs shattered audibly. The man flew ten feet and didn’t get

A spinning kick to another’s knee-bone snapped like a dry branch. The thug collapsed, screaming.

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CHAPTER 42 PART J

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CHAPTER 42 PART 2

Marcus caught a baseball bat mid-swing, yanked it from the wielder’s hands, and drove it into another attacker’s stomach with enough force to fold the man in half.

Quinn watched through the car window, her Saintess eyes detecting something that made her divine senses scream in confusion. This wasn’t cultivation technique as she understood it. This was something older, more primal. Dragon energy-raw, ancient power that predated even her sacred bloodline.

In less than a minute, the road was littered with unconscious or moaning bodies. Marcus stood in the center of the carnage, not even breathing hard, his suit barely rumpled.

The leader-Ignacio, Quinn heard someone call him-tried to crawl away, his face a mess of blood and broken teeth. Marcus’s foot came down on his back, pinning him.

“Wait!” Ignacio gasped. “Wait! We can make a deal! I work for the Three Blade Group! We’re connected! You kill me, you’re starting a war with—”

Marcus leaned down, his voice carrying clearly to Quinn’s enhanced hearing. “The Three Blade Group works for people who work for people who eventually answer to someone who shows me respect. You think your connections protect you?”

“Please,” Ignacio begged. “I was just following orders! Jaxon Brand paid us! We’re just—”

“Just criminals willing to cripple someone for money,” Marcus finished coldly. “Just thugs willing to dump a man in the river because a spoiled rich kid got his feelings hurt.”

His hand moved-Quinn couldn’t see exactly what happened, but Ignacio’s scream was brief and cut off with a sickening crunch.

Marcus pulled out his phone, dialed calmly. “Aaron? Yeah, I need a cleanup crew. Intersection of Fifth and Merchant. About a dozen people. Jaxon Brand’s work.” A pause. “No, I’m fine. Quinn’s with me, she’s safe.” Another pause, then Marcus actually smiled slightly. “I’ll explain later. Thanks.”

He hung up, surveyed the carnage with satisfaction, then walked back to the Rolls-Royce as if he’d only stopped to stretch his legs.

Quinn sat frozen, her phone still in her hand, the emergency number half-dialed. Her Saintess aura flickered wildly, her divine senses unable to process what she’d just witnessed,

Marcus opened the driver’s door and slid in, checking the rearview mirror casually. “Sorry about the delay. We can head home now.”

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