Saintess's Worthless Husband Turned Dragon Commander novel Chapter 90

CHAPTER 90 PART 1

Golden Eagle Group Headquarters – Five-River Province – 6:23 PM

Stanislaus Potter’s phone hadn’t stopped ringing for the past hour. One after another, business magnates from across Five-River Province called to pledge their support-corporate titans eager to prove they wouldn’t be shown up by Owen Cooper and his Titan Group.

“Mr. Potter, this is Chairman Liu from Central Province Construction. I’m prepared to invest five hundred million in Golden Eagle Group’s assault on Hartford-”

“Stanislaus, it’s Victor Zhang. My investment firm can contribute three hundred million to your campaign-”

“Potter, we can’t let Cooper humiliate Five-River Province’s business community. Diamond Properties pledges one billion-”

The pledges poured in like a flood, each magnate trying to outdo the others in displays of loyalty and wealth. Within an hour, Stanislaus had secured commitments totaling over eight billion dollars-more than enough to crush any mid-sized corporation.

But when his financial advisor burst into his office thirty minutes later, the man’s face was pale with shock.

“Sir, you need to see this immediately.”

Stanislaus grabbed the tablet his advisor thrust at him. His eyes widened as he read the breaking news bulletin:

TITAN GROUP INJECTS ADDITIONAL $1 BILLION INTO HARTFORD GROUP

Owen Cooper doubles down on controversial investment, bringing total capital infusion to $11 billion

“Eleven billion?!” Stanislaus’s voice rose with disbelief and fury. “That spineless bastard is actually doubling down? Does he have a death wish?”

“Sir, there’s more.” The advisor pulled up another document. “I’ve been digging through Titan Group’s financial records-the public ones, at least. Owen Cooper hasn’t just invested eleven billion in Hartford Group.”

He paused, his hands trembling slightly.

“He’s invested eighty billion.”

The tablet slipped from Stanislaus’s nerveless fingers, clattering on his mahogany desk.

“Eighty… billion…” Stanislaus repeated slowly, each word feeling like lead on his tongue. “That’s-that’s insane. That’s suicidal. Owen Cooper is risking Titan Group’s entire survival to protect a nobody and his Saintess wife?”

“It appears so, sir.”

Stanislaus grabbed his phone and made three calls in rapid succession-summoning his top executives, board members, and strategic advisors for an emergency meeting. Within twenty minutes, his conference room was filled with Golden Eagle Group’s leadership, all looking confused and concerned.

“Gentlemen,” Stanislaus began without preamble, “Owen Cooper has invested eighty billion dollars-EIGHTY BILLION―into Hartford Group. This is no longer a simple business dispute. This is corporate warfare on a scale Five-River Province has never witnessed.”

His chief financial officer, Raymond Cross, a normally unflappable man in his fifties, looked genuinely shaken. Sir, with all due respect-eighty billion? Cooper is literally betting Titan Group’s existence on this fight. What kind of leverage does Marcus Steel have over him?”

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“It’s not about Steel,” another board member interjected. “It’s about the Sacred Saintess. Cooper is protecting Quinn Hartford. But that level of investment-it’s beyond protection. It’s beyond business sense. It’s-”

“Insanity,” Stanislaus finished coldly. “But it’s also a public challenge. Every business leader in Five-River Province is watching. If we back down now, Golden Eagle Group looks weak. The Potter family looks weak.”

“But sir,” his chief strategist ventured carefully, “our analysts ran the numbers. If we match Cooper’s investment, we’d be liquidating strategic assets, pulling capital from profitable ventures, essentially bleeding ourselves dry just to win a fight with a mid-tier corporation. The cost-benefit analysis is-”

“I don’t care about cost-benefit analysis!” Stanislaus slammed his fist on the table. “My son was humiliated! Our family honor demands satisfaction!”

Raymond Cross exchanged nervous glances with the other executives. “Mr. Potter, I must advise caution. There are… other considerations.”

“What other considerations?”

“Quinn Hartford is a Sacred Saintess,” Raymond said quietly. “Her bloodline is divine. In the old codes-the ones most of the world has forgotten but still exist in certain circles-attacking someone with divine bloodline brings consequences beyond normal business warfare. It invites… attention… from forces most corporations would rather avoid.”

“You’re talking about supernatural nonsense,” Stanislaus scoffed, but his voice lacked conviction.

“Am I?” Raymond pulled out his phone, showing a dark web bulletin. “Willson Pavilion issued a Blood-Red Killing Order against everyone involved in Quinn Hartford’s kidnapping. Blood Canyon syndicate has been decimated. Three Blade Group lost its entire Grayson City operation. The Brand family was wiped out overnight- forty elite bodyguards dead, Jaxon Brand himself executed.”

He leaned forward. “Sir, attacking a Sacred Saintess brings divine retribution. That’s not superstition. That’s documented fact across dozens of historical cases.”

The conference room fell into uncomfortable silence.

Stanislaus stared at the reports, his mind racing through calculations that had nothing to do with money. Finally, he made his decision.

“We slow the assault,” he said. “Cut our committed capital to two billion. Make it look like strategic repositioning, not retreat. Meanwhile-” his expression turned cold and calculating, “I’ve already hired someone to deal with the real problem.”

“Sir?” Raymond asked carefully.

“Marcus Steel. The husband. Remove him from the equation, and Quinn Hartford becomes vulnerable-just another businesswoman without her mysterious protector.” Stanislaus smiled, and it was not a pleasant expression. “I’ve retained the services of Dustless.”

Several executives gasped. Raymond’s face went pale.

“The Taoist assassin?” the chief strategist breathed. “Sir, his f*e alone-”

“Fifty million,” Stanislaus confirmed. “A bargain compared to eighty billion in corporate warfare. Dustless never fails. He’s killed master cultivators, government officials, even other assassins who came for him. Marcus Steel, no matter how lucky he’s been, won’t survive an encounter with true death.”

“And when Steel is gone?” Raymond asked quietly.

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“Then the Sacred Saintess becomes just another widow. And widows are much easier to destroy than couples protected by mysterious forces.”

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CHAPTER 90 PART 2

Hartford Group Parking Garage – 7:45 PM

Zachary Hartford walked slowly toward his Mercedes, Oliver’s wheelchair creaking behind him, pushed by a sullen family assistant. The rest of the Hartford clan trailed like defeated soldiers, their earlier confidence completely evaporated.

“This isn’t over,” Zachary muttered, but his voice lacked conviction. “We’ll regroup. Find another angle. The Potter family still has two billion committed-”

“Give it up, Grandfather,” Oliver said bitterly from his wheelchair. “We lost. Quinn won. That bastard Steel won. And we’re out.”

Tessa Hartford walked past them without a word, her sharp features twisted with impotent rage. Wesley followed, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

The mighty Hartford family, reduced to slinking out of their own company headquarters in disgrace.

From Quinn’s office window five floors up, Marcus watched them go, his expression utterly calm.

“They’re finally leaving,” he observed.

Quinn stood beside him, her Saintess aura finally dimmed to a barely visible glow around her skin. She looked exhausted but triumphant, her cold indifference cracking just enough to show genuine relief.

“I can’t believe we actually won,” she said quietly. “Against Zachary, against the Potter family, against all of them.

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“You won because you deserved to win,” Marcus replied. “Because your cause was righteous and your enemies were corrupt.”

He turned to face her, taking both her hands in his. “We should celebrate. Properly. When was the last time we went out for a nice dinner? Just the two of us?”

Quinn’s lips curved into a small smile-rare and precious coming from someone who maintained such careful emotional control. “I can’t remember. The past three years have been… complicated.”

“Then tonight, we uncomplicate things,” Marcus said. “Skyline Restaurant. Best view in Grayson City. I’ll make reservations.”

“That sounds… perfect,” Quinn admitted, her Saintess aura pulsing warmly at the prospect.

Thirty minutes later, they left Hartford Group together, walking toward Marcus’s BMW in the parking garage. Quinn wore a simple but elegant black dress, her hair down for once instead of pulled back in her usual severe bun. Marcus had changed into dark slacks and a dress shirt, looking almost normal instead of constantly prepared for combat.

They were halfway to the car when Marcus’s dragon senses suddenly screamed a warning.

Death. Nearby. Watching.

His enhanced perception detected it immediately-a presence that radiated killing intent so refined, so controlled, that ordinary people would never notice it. But to Marcus’s dragon-enhanced senses, it was like a beacon of pure malice.

Fifty yards away, standing in the shadows between two support pillars, stood a figure dressed in traditional Taoist

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