Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 45

CHAPTER 45 PART 1

The Black Wind Bar erupted with noise-cheers, gasps, disbelieving laughter. Marcus Steel had just downed forty- eight bottles of beer in five minutes and looked like he could do it again. The crowd pressed closer, phones recording every moment, already composing social media posts that would make this night legendary.

“QUIET!”

Sonny Ridge’s roar cut through the celebration like a blade. The bar fell silent instantly, everyone recognizing the authority and rage in that single word.

Sonny straightened from his position near the trash can, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His face was still flushed from the alcohol, but fury burned in his eyes hot enough to override the nausea.

“This isn’t over,” Sonny said, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “Nobody-NOBODY-walks out of my bar after humiliating me like this!”

“We had a deal,” Marcus said calmly, the money already in his possession. “I won. Fair and square. Every person here witnessed it.”

“You cheated!” Sonny snapped. “There’s no way a human can drink that much without some kind of enhancement! You must have taken something-some drug, some cultivation pill—”

“Are you seriously accusing someone of cheating in Black Wind Bar?” Aaron Jackson’s voice cut in, cold and dangerous. “You know what that means, Ridge. You’d be questioning the integrity of your own establishment.”

Sonny’s jaw clenched. Aaron was right-Black Wind’s entire reputation was built on being fair and safe. A place where deals were honored, bets were paid, and everyone played by the rules. If Sonny tried to renege on a bet witnessed by dozens of people, the Three Blade Group’s higher-ups would have his head.

The bar’s ironclad reputation for fair play was the only thing keeping the elite clientele coming back. Destroying that over wounded pride would cost Sonny everything-his position, his income, possibly his life.

“Then let’s settle this another way,” Sonny said, his voice dropping to something dangerous. “You and me. A fight. Right here, right now.”

The crowd’s energy shifted immediately-excitement tinged with nervousness. A drinking contest was entertainment. A fight between Marcus Steel and the Three Blade Group’s deputy manager? That was something else entirely.

“You want to fight me?” Marcus asked, mild amusement in his voice. “After I just watched you vomit for five minutes?”

“I want satisfaction!” Sonny snarled. “You can’t just walk in here, embarrass me, take my money, and leave like nothing happened! I have a reputation to maintain!”

Marcus considered this, then smiled-not his warm smile, but the terrifying one that made survival instincts scream. “Alright. Let’s make it interesting.”

He pulled out his phone, made another transfer, and showed the confirmation to the crowd. “Fifty million dollars. That’s my stake. If you beat me in a fight, it’s yours. Plus the million and change already on the table.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Fifty million. That was life-changing money even for the Three Blade Group’s upper management.

“But,” Marcus continued, his voice carrying clearly, “when I win-and I will win-you lose both hands. And you pay me fifty million on top of everything you’ve already lost tonight.”

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The bar went absolutely silent. Losing hands wasn’t just about money or pride-it was a maiming that would end Sonny’s career in the underworld. No criminal organization valued members who couldn’t hold weapons, couldn’t fight, couldn’t enforce.

“You’re insane,” Sonny breathed.

“I’m confident,” Marcus corrected. “So what’s it going to be, Brother Ridge? You wanted satisfaction. Here’s your chance to get it. Put up or shut up.”

Sonny looked at the crowd watching him, at his men waiting for his decision, at the phones recording every moment. If he backed down now, he’d be a laughingstock. The deputy manager who got drunk under the table and then refused to fight because the stakes were too high.

His pride wouldn’t allow it.

“Done,” Sonny said, his voice carrying across the silent bar. “I swear on my position, my reputation, and my life- if I lose, you get my hands and fifty million. But when I WIN, you’ll understand what happens to people who disrespect the Three Blade Group in our own house!”

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CHAPTER 45 PART 2

His men cheered, emboldened by their boss’s confidence. Several started clearing a space in the center of the bar, pushing tables and chairs aside to create an impromptu fighting ring.

Dom Martinez leaned close to Aaron. “Boss, this is going to get messy. Ridge has cultivation training-he’s not like those street thugs earlier.”

“I know,” Aaron replied quietly. “But watch carefully. You’re about to see something very few people ever witness.

The crowd formed a circle, phones raised, anticipation crackling in the air. This was the kind of moment that became legend in Grayson City-the night Marcus Steel faced off against the Three Blade Group’s deputy manager for stakes that beggared belief.

Sonny entered the makeshift ring, rolling his shoulders, his cultivation energy flaring visibly. Golden light flickered around his fists-a technique that enhanced striking power, turned hands into weapons capable of breaking bones and shattering organs.

“Last chance to back out,” Sonny offered with false magnanimity. “Walk away now, leave the money, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”

Marcus stepped into the ring, his posture relaxed, hands in his pockets. “You first.”

Rage twisted Sonny’s features. “You arrogant-”

He exploded forward with cultivation-enhanced speed, his golden fist aimed directly at Marcus’s face. The technique was called Iron Mountain Strike-a move that concentrated all of a cultivator’s power into a single devastating blow. Sonny had used it to put opponents in hospitals, to shatter ribs and collapse lungs.

His fist connected with Marcus’s jaw.

The impact sounded like a gunshot.

And Marcus didn’t even flinch.

He stood there, completely unmoved, Sonny’s powered fist pressed against his face like a child’s weak push. His dragon-enhanced body barely registered the impact-it felt like someone had tapped him politely rather than struck him with killing intent.

“That’s it?” Marcus asked calmly.

Sonny’s eyes went wide with shock and dawning horror.

Marcus’s hand moved-not fast enough to be invisible, but with absolute certainty. His fist drew back, and for just

a moment, those with cultivator sight in the crowd saw something that made their blood run cold.

Dragon energy. Ancient, primal power that predated cultivation techniques, that operated on a completely different level of existence.

Marcus’s punch connected with Sonny’s chest.

The sound of the impact was like thunder in an enclosed space. Sonny’s body lifted completely off the ground, flew backward through the air, crashed through two tables and a chair before slamming into the far wall hard enough to crack the expensive paneling.

He slumped down, coughing blood, his eyes unfocused, his cultivation energy completely dispersed by the single

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blow.

The fight-if it could even be called that-was over before it had truly begun.

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