Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 48

CHAPTER 48 PART 1

Sonny Ridge bolted toward the back hallway that led to his private office, his survival instincts finally overriding his wounded pride. If he could just reach his safe-the submachine gun he kept for emergencies- he could turn this disaster around.

Behind him, the sounds of fighting continued-Aaron Jackson methodically dismantling his remaining men, Domn Martinez breaking bones with professional efficiency. But Sonny’s focus was singular: get the weapon, regain control, kill everyone who’d witnessed his humiliation.

He burst through his office door, slamming it behind him and racing to the wall safe hidden behind a painting of a dragon. His fingers fumbled with the combination-once, twice, finally the lock clicked open.

The MP5 submachine gun gleamed inside, pristine and deadly. Sonny grabbed it with shaking hands, checked the magazine-thirty rounds, more than enough-and turned toward the door with manic relief.

This was it. His salvation. Aaron Jackson might be legendary, but legends died when you put enough bullets in

them.

“Looking for this?”

Sonny spun around, nearly dropping the weapon.

Marcus Steel sat calmly in Sonny’s leather office chair, feet propped on the desk, examining Sonny’s expensive paperweight with mild interest. His dragon eyes glowed faintly in the dim office lighting.

“How…” Sonny’s voice came out strangled. “How did you get in here? The door-”

“Window,” Marcus said simply, gesturing to the open second-story window behind him. “You really should improve your security.”

Sonny raised the submachine gun with shaking hands, finger moving toward the trigger. “Don’t move! I’ll kill you! I swear I’ll-”

Marcus moved faster than human perception. One moment he was sitting, the next his hand clamped around the MP5’s barrel, wrenching it from Sonny’s grip before the man could even squeeze the trigger. The weapon clattered across the floor, completely useless.

Then Marcus’s other hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Sonny’s throat, lifting him completely off the ground with one arm.

Sonny’s feet kicked uselessly in the air, his hands clawing at Marcus’s iron grip. His face turned red, then purple, desperate gasps escaping his compressed windpipe.

“You know what I find funny about people like you?” Marcus asked conversationally, holding Sonny at arm’s length like he weighed nothing. “You think weapons make you strong. Money makes you powerful. Connections make you untouchable.”

He squeezed slightly. Sonny’s vision started to dim.

“But when it comes down to it,” Marcus continued, “you’re just a small man with delusions of grandeur. And now you’re learning what real power looks like.”

The office door exploded inward.

A massive figure filled the doorway-six-foot-five of pure muscle, covered in scars that told stories of countless fights. His eyes were cold, professional, carrying the kind of lethality that came from decades of killing.

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Tiger. Real name unknown. Bodyguard ranking in the Three Blade Group’s top ten. A man who’d killed over thirty people with his bare hands, whose Devastating Iron Leg technique had shattered spines and crushed skulls.

“Let him go,” Tiger said, his voice like gravel scraping concrete.

Marcus turned to look at the newcomer, still holding Sonny suspended by the throat. “You must be the famous Tiger. I’ve heard stories.”

“And you must be Marcus Steel,” Tiger replied, cracking his knuckles. “The man who thinks he can walk into our territory and cause chaos without consequences. That ends now.”

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APTNA PART 2

CHAPTER 48 PART 2

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He launched forward with explosive speed, his right leg chambering with golden cultivation energy. The Devastating Iron Leg-a technique that had killed men in single strikes, that broke through reinforced walls and shattered concrete.

Marcus casually tossed Sonny aside like garbage and raised his hand to catch Tiger’s kick.

The impact should have shattered Marcus’s arm, driven bone fragments into his flesh, left him crippled and dying. Every person Tiger had used this technique on had either died or spent months in hospitals recovering.

Marcus’s hand closed around Tiger’s ankle mid-kick. The golden energy dissipated against his dragon-enhanced constitution like water hitting stone.

Tiger’s eyes went wide with shock. “Impossible…”

“Your technique is impressive,” Marcus said calmly, his grip tightening. “For humans. But I’m operating on a different level entirely.”

He twisted.

The crack of Tiger’s leg breaking echoed through the office like a gunshot. Tibia and fibula snapped simultaneously, the bone tearing through skin, blood spraying across expensive carpet.

Tiger’s scream was brief-Marcus’s other hand moved in a blur, elbow driving into Tiger’s temple with ancient dragon power behind it. The impact sounded like a hammer hitting meat. Tiger’s skull cracked. His eyes rolled

back.

Marcus released him, and the legendary bodyguard-feared throughout Grayson City’s underworld, ranked in the top ten of the Three Blade Group-collapsed like a puppet with cut strings. Blood pooled beneath his head, his chest barely moving.

Dead or dying. The distinction didn’t matter.

Sonny Ridge watched from where he’d landed, his throat bruised, his mind unable to process what he’d just witnessed. Tiger-Tiger-had lasted less than five seconds. The man who’d protected Three Blade bosses for fifteen years, who’d never lost a fight, who’d killed cultivation masters and martial arts experts.

Gone. Broken like a child’s toy.

Marcus walked calmly to where Sonny cowered, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him toward the door. Sonny tried to resist, tried to fight, but his strength was that of an ant compared to a dragon.

They emerged from the back hallway into the main bar area, where Aaron and Dom had finished with the remaining enforcers. The Black Wind Bar looked like a war zone-broken furniture, unconscious bodies, blood staining expensive carpet.

The few remaining Three Blade members-low-level staff who’d wisely stayed out of the fighting–watched in horrified silence as Marcus dragged their deputy manager like a sack of garbage.

“Your boss is coming, I assume?” Marcus asked Aaron casually, Sonny dangling from his grip.

“Maurice Yarrow is mobilizing his core men as we speak,” Aaron confirmed, checking his phone. “He thinks this is his chance for revenge. Apparently, being allowed to live after stealing two billion from me wasn’t enough humility.”

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