Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 75

CHAPTER 75 PART 1

Gunfire echoed through the parking garage like thunder in a metal canyon. Lily Chen dove behind a concrete pillar as bullets chewed chunks out of the structure, showering her with debris. Blood streamed from a gash on her temple where a ricochet had grazed her.

“Maya! Fall back!” she shouted, unleashing another volley of plum blossom darts.

Maya Rodriguez had already taken two bullets-one in the shoulder, another in her thigh. She limped behind the Rolls-Royce, her yellow tracksuit stained crimson, her breathing ragged. “There’s too many! We can’t-”

A mercenary rounded the corner, assault rifle raised. Maya threw a dart that caught him in the eye, dropping him instantly, but three more took his place.

Frank, his hand still bleeding from Lily’s earlier strike, gestured furiously at his remaining men. “Kill those bitches! I want them dead, you hear me? DEAD!”

Six mercenaries advanced with military precision, using the vans as cover, laying down suppressing fire that forced Lily and Maya into increasingly desperate positions. They were elite fighters, trained by Amadeus Fairbanks himself, but elite didn’t mean invincible against superior numbers and firepower.

Quinn Hartford watched it all with cold, detached eyes, even as two mercenaries dragged her toward the van. The suppression drug coursed through her veins, turning her sacred Saintess power into a guttering candle flame. She tried to summon her golden barrier again, pushing against the chemical chains binding her energy.

A faint flicker of golden light appeared around her hands-barely visible, pathetically weak compared to her usual

radiance.

“Still got some fight in you?” Frank sneered, noticing the glow. He backhanded her across the face, the impact snapping her head to the side. “Save your strength, princess. You’re going to need it where you’re going.”

Quinn’s expression didn’t change, though blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Her Saintess training had taught her to endure pain without showing weakness. But inside, calculation raced through her mind-distances, angles, the positions of her kidnappers, any possible advantage.

There was none. She was too weak, too outnumbered.

Marcus, she thought, the first crack appearing in her icy composure. Where are you?

A mercenary’s scream cut through the chaos. Maya had buried a dart in his throat despite her wounds, but the effort cost her. A burst of gunfire caught her in the side, spinning her around. She collapsed behind the Rolls- Royce, gasping for air.

“Maya!” Lily’s cry was anguished. She abandoned her position, rushing to her partner’s side—a mistake born of desperation.

Three mercenaries opened fire simultaneously. Lily’s body jerked as bullets tore through her shoulder and leg. She went down hard, her dart gun clattering across the concrete.

“NO!” Maya tried to crawl toward her fallen partner, leaving a trail of blood, but her strength was failing.

Frank laughed, the sound harsh and cruel. “Pathetic. You thought two women could stop Blood Canyon? We’ve killed government assassins, military squads, entire security teams! You’re nothing but insects!”

He nodded to two of his men. “Finish them. Make it messy. Send a message.”

The mercenaries raised their weapons, aiming at the wounded bodyguards-

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Maya’s hand, slick with blood, moved with her last ounce of strength. She pulled a tiny tracking device from her pocket and, with a desperate flick of her wrist, sent it flying toward the nearest van. The magnetic tracker struck the van’s undercarriage with a soft click, invisible in the shadows beneath the vehicle.

The mercenaries fired.

Both women stopped moving.

“Get the Saintess in the van!” Frank barked, clutching Quinn’s arm with his good hand. “We’re leaving before cops show up. Move, move, MOVE!”

They threw Quinn into the back of the van like a sack of grain. She landed hard, her shoulder slamming against the metal floor, but she didn’t cry out. Instead, she lay there, watching Frank and his men through cold, calculating

eyes.

“You’re dead men,” Quinn said quietly, her voice carrying absolute certainty despite her weakened state. “All of you. Marcus will find me. And when he does, he’ll tear you apart piece by piece.”

Frank climbed into the van beside her, his scarred face twisted with contempt. “Your husband? That worthless nobody who married above his station? By the time he finds out where you are, you’ll be on a boat to Shanghai, ready for the highest bidder. Sacred Saintess bloodline fetches premium prices in the black market. Maybe they’ll breed you like livestock, extract your sacred essence, or just dissect you to study your powers.’

He grabbed her chin roughly. “Either way, you’ll never see Grayson City again. And Marcus Steel? He’ll spend the rest of his miserable life wondering what happened to his precious wife.”

Quinn said nothing. But somewhere deep inside, past the drug’s suppression, past her cold exterior, her Saintess power pulsed with a single, burning conviction: He will come. And you will suffer.

The van’s doors slammed shut. Tires screeched as both vehicles peeled out of the parking garage, leaving behind two broken bodyguards bleeding on the concrete.

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AFTER ART 2

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CHAPTER 75 PART 2

Seven Minutes Later

Lily Chen’s eyes fluttered open. Pain screamed through every nerve, but she was alive. Barely. Beside her, Maya groaned, also stirring.

“The… tracker…” Maya gasped, blood bubbling at her lips. “Did it… attach?”

Lily pulled out her phone with trembling fingers, activating the tracking app. A green dot pulsed on the screen, moving rapidly through Grayson City’s streets.

“It worked,” she whispered. “We got them.”

With agonizing slowness, Lily dragged herself to her phone and dialed a number she’d memorized but prayed she’d never have to use-Amadeus Fairbanks’s emergency line.

The voice that answered was cultured and refined, but carried an edge of steel. “This had better be important.”

“Master Fairbanks,” Lily’s voice broke. “We failed. The Sacred Saintess… they took her. We tried to stop them, but

The silence on the other end was more terrifying than any rage.

When Amadeus spoke again, his voice was utterly devoid of emotion-the calm before a catastrophic storm. Where. Is. She.”

“We planted a tracker. Hibiscus Mansion, Villa Number Seven, western suburbs. The Blood Canyon syndicate has her. They’re working for-”

“I know who they’re working for,” Amadeus interrupted, his words clipped with barely controlled fury. “The Brand family will burn for this. Every single one of them.”

He paused, and Lily could almost hear the gears turning in his mind.

“Do you understand what you’ve allowed to happen?” Amadeus’s voice dropped to a whisper more terrifying than any shout. “Quinn Hartford is not just a Sacred Saintess. She is the wife of the Young Master of the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance. The Dragon-”

He caught himself, choosing his next words carefully. “She is under the personal protection of forces that make the Potter family look like street thugs. If anything happens to her, the entire criminal underworld of Grayson City will be reduced to ashes.”

“Master Fairbanks, I’m so sorry-”

“Save your apologies. You’re fortunate you planted that tracker, or I’d kill you myself.” The line went quiet for a moment. “How badly are you injured?”

“Multiple gunshot wounds. Maya’s worse. We need-”

“Medical team is already on the way to your location. Stay conscious. Stay alive. And pray to whatever gods you believe in that we reach her before they harm her further.”

The call ended.

Amadeus Fairbanks stood in his private study, gripping his phone so hard the screen cracked. His usually composed features were twisted with a combination of fury and genuine fear-fear of what would happen when Marcus Steel learned his wife had been taken.

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With steady hands despite his raging emotions, he made another call-one he’d hoped never to make in these circumstances.

The phone rang once. Twice.

“What?” Marcus Steel’s voice was distracted, probably still dealing with the Potter family situation.

“Young Master,” Amadeus began, his voice carrying the weight of a death sentence. “I have failed you. Quinn Hartford has been abducted.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then, in the background, Amadeus heard something that made his blood run cold-the sound of glass shattering. Not from impact, but from pure, overwhelming pressure in the air itself.

When Marcus spoke again, his voice carried an inhuman resonance that Amadeus had only heard once before- the night Marcus had slaughtered an entire yakuza clan for insulting his honor.

“Repeat that.”

“Blood Canyon mercenaries took her from Hartford Group parking garage twenty minutes ago. Working under contract from the Brand family. I have her location-Hibiscus Mansion, Villa Number Seven, western suburbs.”

More glass shattered in the background. Amadeus heard Aaron Jackson shouting something, then silence.

“I sent two of my best,” Amadeus continued, his voice hollow with self-recrimination. “They were overwhelmed. Both critically wounded. I take full responsibility-”

“How long has she been in their custody?” Marcus’s voice was completely calm now. Emotionless. The kind of calm that preceded absolute devastation.

“Twenty-three minutes.”

“Are they still alive? The mercenaries?”

“Yes, Young Master. My forces are mobilizing for rescue, but I wanted to inform you immediately-”

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