Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 47

CHAPTER 47 PART 1

The Black Wind Bar had transformed from an upscale establishment into a powder keg, seconds away from explosion. Sonny Ridge’s enforcers circled closer, weapons gleaming, their faces set with the grim determination of men who knew they’d crossed a line but were committed to seeing it through.

Atlas Lancaster watched the scene unfold with calculating eyes. He’d voiced his support for fairness, made his position clear-but the Lancaster family didn’t survive generations of power by getting involved in underworld brawls. There was a difference between using influence and getting blood on expensive suits.

“Mr. Steel,” Atlas said carefully, backing toward the VIP section’s stairs, “I’ve done what I can. The rest is between you and Ridge. The Lancaster family supports justice, but we don’t interfere in… operational disputes.”

Several other wealthy patrons followed Atlas’s lead, suddenly remembering urgent appointments elsewhere. The crowd thinned rapidly, leaving behind only those too curious or too trapped to leave.

Marcus watched them go with amusement. “Look at that, Ridge. Your best customers are abandoning ship. Guess they know a sinking establishment when they see one.”

“I don’t need them!” Sonny’s voice cracked with desperation and rage. “I need you DEAD! You think you can humiliate me in my own bar and just walk away?”

“Actually,” Marcus said calmly, “that’s exactly what I think. Because unlike you, I can back up my words with action instead of just surrounding myself with armed men and hoping intimidation works.”

He gestured dismissively at the enforcers. “Six guys with weapons against three of us. You must feel very confident.”

“I AM confident!” Sonny snarled. “You’ve got nowhere to run, Steel! No backup, no escape, no-‘

“Backup?” Aaron Jackson’s voice cut through Sonny’s rant as he stepped forward from where he’d been observing. “Did you really think Marcus came here without backup?”

The color drained from Sonny Ridge’s face as recognition finally pierced through his rage-fogged brain. He’d been so focused on Marcus that he’d barely registered the other man’s presence.

“Aaron… Aaron Jackson?” Sonny’s voice came out strangled. “You’re… you’re with him?”

“I’m his friend,” Aaron said simply, and those three words carried more weight than any elaborate threat. “And you just ordered your men to attack him. In front of me.”

Sonny’s hands shook. Everyone in Grayson City’s underworld knew about Aaron Jackson. Knew his reputation. Knew that crossing him was a death sentence delivered with professional efficiency.

“I… I didn’t know!” Sonny’s bravado crumbled like wet paper. “If I’d known you were backing him—”

“Then you would have done what?” Aaron interrupted coldly. “Honored your bets? Acted with integrity? Or just been more careful about who you tried to rob?”

“This is a misunderstanding,” Sonny tried desperately. “We can work this out. I have connections! Maurice Yarrow himself owes me favors! If I deliver Aaron Jackson to him, humiliate Marcus Steel in the process-

He stopped, realizing he’d said too much.

Aaron’s expression went from cold to absolutely glacial. “You think Maurice Yarrow will protect you? From me? That’s… actually impressively stupid.”

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“I… I just meant-“Sonny stammered.

“You meant you’re willing to betray me to Maurice Yarrow for a chance to save your pride,” Aaron finished. “Well then. Let’s see how that works out for you.”

He pulled out a cigarette, lit it with deliberate casualness, took a long drag. “Go ahead, Ridge. Order your men to attack. See what happens when you try to capture the man who controls half of Grayson City’s underworld.”

Sonny’s face cycled through emotions-fear, desperation, and finally settling on a kind of manic determination. He was already ruined. His reputation destroyed, his position untenable, his future bleak. If he was going down anyway, he might as well swing for the fences.

“TAKE THEM!” Sonny screamed. “All of them! Aaron Jackson, Marcus Steel, that other bastard-capture them alive! Maurice Yarrow will pay millions for them!”

The enforcers hesitated for just a heartbeat-attacking Aaron Jackson went against every survival instinct-but they were Three Blade men. They followed orders, even suicidal ones.

One pulled a gun.

Aaron moved.

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SAR 4 PART2

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CHAPTER 47 PART2

His speed was supernatural, his hand a blur as he closed the distance. The gun discharged-into the ceiling-as Aaron’s fingers clamped around the enforcer’s wrist with crushing force. Bones snapped audibly. The gun clattered to the floor.

Aaron’s knee drove into the man’s solar plexus, folding him in half. Before he could fall, Aaron grabbed him and hurled him into two other enforcers, sending all three crashing through a table.

“Dom,” Aaron said calmly, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Help Marcus collect what he’s owed.”

Dominic Martinez grinned, cracking his knuckles. “With pleasure, boss.”

Three enforcers charged at once. Dom met them with brutal efficiency-a knife hand strike to one’s throat dropped him choking, a leg sweep sent another crashing face-first into the floor, and a devastating uppercut launched the third into a wall with enough force to crack plaster.

Marcus stood in the center of the chaos, watching two enforcers approach him with chains and brass knuckles. They moved with trained coordination, trying to flank him, cut off escape routes.

Then Marcus moved, and everyone watching understood why Aaron Jackson called him “elder brother.”

His dragon-enhanced speed made the enforcers look like they were moving through syrup. Marcus was between them before they could react, his hands moving with surgical precision-a palm strike to one’s sternum that sent him flying backward, a sweep that took the other’s legs out from under him

The enforcer with the chain tried to wrap it around Marcus’s neck from behind. Marcus caught the chain mid-air, yanked hard enough to pull the man off his feet, and drove an elbow into his descending face. Blood sprayed. The enforcer’s nose shattered.

The entire engagement took less than ten seconds.

Six Three Blade enforcers-trained, armed, experienced-lay scattered across the Black Wind Bar like broken toys. Some unconscious, some groaning, all completely out of the fight.

Sonny Ridge stood alone, his back against the bar, watching his entire world collapse.

Marcus walked toward him calmly, dragon energy radiating from every step. “Now. About that bet we made. You owe me fifty million dollars and both hands. Time to pay up.”

Sonny’s eyes darted around desperately, seeking escape, finding none. “You… you can’t do this… Maurice Yarrow will-”

“Maurice Yarrow,” Aaron interrupted, “will learn about this in about five minutes when I call him myself. Want to guess whose side he’ll take? The man who controls his supply lines and distribution networks? Or the deputy manager who just tried to rob one of my friends?”

The calculation was simple and brutal. Sonny had gambled everything on Marcus being a nobody. Had bet his position, his money, his body on the assumption that he could intimidate or murder his way out of consequences.

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