Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 88

CHAPTER 88 PART 1

Quinn Hartford sat in the chairman’s seat, her hands folded on the polished conference table, her expression a mask of cold indifference.

But Marcus, standing beside her with one hand resting lightly on her shoulder, could feel the tremors of anxiety running through her Sacred Saintess aura-golden energy flickering nervously like candle flames in a storm.

The entire Hartford family watched with predatory anticipation. Twenty-three pairs of eyes fixed on Quinn, waiting for her to crack, waiting for the announcement that would destroy her.

Marcus pulled out the chair beside Quinn’s and sat down, utterly relaxed, his dragon aura wrapping invisibly around her divine energy in layers of protective power.

“How dare you!” Zachary Hartford’s voice cracked from his humiliating position on the tiny red plastic stool in the corner. His knees were nearly up to his chest, his expensive suit bunched awkwardly, but his eyes burned with vindictive fury. “You’re not even a board member! You have no right to sit at this table!”

“I’m the acting chairman’s husband,” Marcus replied calmly. “Where she goes, I go. Unless you’d like to file a formal complaint? Oh wait-you can’t, because you have no official position.”

Several family members snickered at the reminder of Zachary’s humiliation, though they quickly stifled their laughter under his withering glare.

Oliver Hartford wheeled himself forward, his bruised face twisted with malicious glee. “Laugh while you can, Steel. In about thirty seconds, this entire charade ends. Quinn loses her chairmanship, you both get thrown out on the street, and I finally get what I deserve.”

“What you deserve,” Marcus said quietly, “and what you want are very different things. You’re about to learn that lesson.”

“Big words from a dead man,” Tessa Hartford spat from her position near the window. “The Potter Family has prepared two billion to crush our stock. Golden Eagle Group is ready to strike. Your precious Saintess wife is finished!”

Wesley Hartford leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression radiating smug certainty. “According to the agreement Zachary negotiated, if Hartford Group’s market value drops more than three percent during Quinn’s first week as acting chairman, she’s automatically removed and Zachary reclaims the title. It’s four-fifteen PM– the market closes in fifteen minutes. Time to face reality.”

Quinn’s hands tightened almost imperceptibly on the table. Her Saintess aura flickered more intensely-anxiety, fear, the crushing weight of impending failure pressing down on her divine composure.

They drained three hundred million, she thought desperately. The Potter Family is attacking. Even with Titan Group’s investment, how could the stock possibly rise in just one week?

Marcus’s hand on her shoulder tightened fractionally, his dragon aura pulsing with quiet reassurance. She couldn’t see it, couldn’t fully comprehend the ancient power protecting her, but her sacred intuition responded instinctively-warming, calming, promising that she wasn’t alone.

“Shall we check the numbers?” Oliver’s voice was practically singing with anticipation. “Secretary Adams, pull up Hartford Group’s current stock price. Let’s make this official.”

A nervous young woman-Hartford Group’s executive secretary-approached with a laptop, her hands shaking as she logged into the financial systems. The screen displayed real-time market data, and she positioned it so everyone in the boardroom could see.

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“The market closes in twelve minutes,” Zachary said, rising awkwardly from his tiny stool despite the indignity, unable to contain his eagerness. “Show us the damage. I want to see the exact percentage it’s fallen.”

“Actually,” Oliver interjected, wheeling himself forward eagerly, “let me do the honors. I want to personally announce Quinn’s failure.”

He grabbed the laptop from Secretary Adams, his eyes scanning the screen with ravenous anticipation-

And his face drained of all color.

The smug triumph melted away like wax under a blowtorch, replaced by shock so profound he looked like he’d been physically struck.

“Well?” Zachary demanded impatiently. “How much did it fall? Five percent? Ten? Tell us!”

Oliver’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. His hands trembled on the laptop, and for a moment, it seemed like he might drop it.

“Oliver!” Zachary shouted. “Speak up! What’s the number?!”

“It-“Oliver’s voice cracked. “It didn’t fall.”

Silence crashed over the boardroom like a physical wave.

“What?” Tessa’s sharp voice cut through the quiet. “What do you mean it didn’t fall?”

“I mean it didn’t FALL!” Oliver’s voice rose to a near-shriek. “Hartford Group’s stock price-it-it ROSE! It rose by five percent!”

The number hung in the air like an impossible miracle.

Five percent.

Not down. Up.

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CHAPTER 88 PART 2

Zachary lunged forward, grabbing the laptop from Oliver’s nerveless fingers. His eyes scanned the screen frantically, as if sheer force of will could change the numbers displayed there.

HARTFORD GROUP (HRTF) Current Price: $47.25 Change: +$2.25 (+5.00%) Volume: 15.2M shares

“This is impossible,” Zachary whispered. “We drained three hundred million. The Potter Family was attacking. Golden Eagle Group was preparing two billion in assault capital. How-”

“Titan Group,” Wesley said suddenly, staring at the trading volume. “Look at the major transactions. Titan Group bought massive positions this afternoon. They didn’t just invest capital-they bought stock. Millions of shares.”

Marcus allowed himself a small smile. Owen Cooper had executed the plan perfectly-not just injecting ten billion in operating capital, but using Titan Group’s vast resources to support Hartford Group’s stock price, turning what should have been a massacre into a triumph.

Quinn’s Sacred Saintess aura suddenly exploded with golden light.

The transformation was instantaneous and overwhelming. Her anxiety, her fear, her crushing doubt-all of it evaporated, replaced by divine vindication that blazed like a second sun. Golden energy erupted from her body, so bright that several family members actually raised their hands to shield their eyes.

The conference room’s harsh fluorescent lights seemed dim by comparison. Quinn’s divine bloodline, responding to the validation of her position and the righteousness of her cause, manifested in a display of sacred power that made even the most skeptical family members gasp.

“Impossible,” Tessa breathed, staring at the radiant figure seated at the head of the table. “That’s-that’s true Saintess power. I’ve never seen it so intense.”

“She really is divine,” another cousin whispered in awe and fear.

Zachary clutched the laptop, his hands shaking with impotent rage. “This doesn’t change anything! The Potter Family isn’t finished! Golden Eagle Group still has two billion ready to strike! This is just temporary-tomorrow, next week, they’ll crush you both!”

“Will they?” Marcus stood slowly, his hand still on Quinn’s shoulder, his own dragon aura beginning to manifest -not visibly like Quinn’s golden light, but as an oppressive pressure that made the air itself feel heavy. “My wife is a Sacred Saintess. Her bloodline is divine. Her cause is righteous. Her enemies are corrupt, greedy, and spiritually bankrupt.”

He looked at each family member in turn-Zachary with his shattered dignity, Oliver with his broken dreams, Tessa with her venomous spite, Wesley with his greedy calculations.

“Did you really think heaven itself would allow you to succeed in your petty schemes?” Marcus’s voice carried ancient authority that made several people instinctively lean back in their chairs. “Did you think you could drain resources, make deals with enemies, plot against divine bloodline-and face no consequences?”

Quinn rose from the chairman’s seat, her Saintess aura still blazing with golden light, her cold indifference transformed into regal authority. “According to the agreement, if Hartford Group’s market value rises during my first week as acting chairman, I retain the position permanently. Grandfather-” she turned those divine eyes toward Zachary, “-you no longer have any claim to this company. None of you do.”

“But-but the Potter Family-” Zachary sputtered desperately.

“Will learn the same lesson you’re learning right now,” Marcus interrupted. “Betting against a Sacred Saintess is

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“That’s IMPOSSIBLE!” Zachary shouted. “Golden Eagle Group was preparing a massive assault! The Potter Family had two billion in attack capital! How could the stock possibly-”

“Because Titan Group injected five billion dollars into Hartford Group this afternoon,” Lancaster interrupted, his tone carrying professional incredulity. “It’s the largest single corporate investment Five-River Province has seen in a decade. Mr. Owen Cooper personally authorized the transaction. The market responded accordingly- investors saw Titan Group’s confidence and followed suit. Hartford Group’s stock didn’t just survive the Potter assault, it surged.”

The silence in the boardroom was deafening.

“Five billion,” Wesley breathed. “Owen Cooper invested five billion dollars? Why would he-”

“To protect his investment in my wife,” Marcus said calmly, his hand still resting on Quinn’s shoulder as her Saintess aura continued to blaze. “Titan Group has ten billion invested in Hartford Group now. They’re not about to let the Potter Family destroy their own interests.”

“But why?” Tessa’s voice was hollow with shock. “Why would the richest man in Grayson City risk so much capital on-on her?”

“Because she’s a Sacred Saintess,” Marcus replied simply. “And because heaven backs its chosen champions.”

Zachary stared at the speakerphone, then at the laptop still displaying the impossible numbers, then at Quinn’s golden-lit figure at the head of the table. Every scheme he’d constructed, every alliance he’d forged, every humiliation he’d planned-all of it reduced to ash.

“Mr. Hartford?” Lancaster’s voice came through the speaker. “Is there anything else you need verified?”

“No,” Zachary said hollowly. “Nothing else.”

The call disconnected.

Marcus stood slowly, his dragon aura invisible but palpable-a pressure in the air that made several family members shift uncomfortably in their seats. He walked casually toward Zachary’s corner, where the tiny red plastic stool sat as a monument to the patriarch’s humiliation.

“You know, Grandfather,” Marcus said conversationally, his tone utterly pleasant, “that stool looks uncomfortable. Would you like me to fetch a cushion? Maybe a children’s booster seat? I’m sure we can find something in the daycare center downstairs that would make your new position more bearable.”

Zachary’s face turned purple with rage. “You-you dare mock me?! I’m the founder of this company! I built everything you see!”

“And you schemed to destroy it,” Marcus replied, his voice hardening. “You drained three hundred million. You made deals with our enemies. You plotted to humiliate your own granddaughter-a Sacred Saintess-all to feed your wounded pride.”

He leaned in close, his dragon eyes flashing briefly with golden-red fire.

“So yes, Grandfather,” Marcus continued quietly, “I dare mock you. Because you earned every ounce of this humiliation. And that tiny stool in the corner? That’s where you’ll sit for every future board meeting you choose to attend. Right there, in the corner, watching your granddaughter lead the company you tried to take from her.”

Zachary looked like he might explode. His hands trembled. His jaw clenched so tight his teeth threatened to crack. But he had no response, no comeback, no leverage.

He’d lost. Completely. Absolutely.

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