The building's tremor started as a low rumble, the kind you feel in your bones before your brain registers danger. Then the world lurched.
Crystal chandeliers swayed violently, their thousand prisms throwing chaotic light across walls that suddenly weren't straight anymore. The floor buckled beneath Marcus's feet like a living thing. Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered in cascading waves.
Then the screaming started.
"Earthquake!" someone shrieked.
Panic erupted instantly. Guests in their designer clothes and glittering jewelry stampeded toward exits like cattle, all pretense of civilization abandoned. High heels snapped. Men shoved women aside. The carefully cultivated veneer of upper-class civility cracked and fell away, revealing the animal terror underneath.
Marcus's instincts overrode everything else—the humiliation, the rage, the bleeding knuckles from Alexander's face. His body moved before his mind caught up, turning back toward the banquet hall, fighting against the tide of fleeing bodies.
"Sophia!" His voice cut through the chaos. "We need to get out! Now!"
He could see her through the crowd, still in that emerald dress, Alexander beside her clutching his bruised jaw. The building groaned, a sound like a dying giant, and a section of ceiling collapsed twenty feet to their left.
Marcus pushed forward, shoving through the panicked mass. "Sophia!"
But Alexander was already there, his hand clamped on Sophia's arm with possessive urgency. "Bella, stay close to me!"
Sophia's eyes blazed with golden light. Her Saintess powers erupted in a brilliant flare, holy energy cascading from her skin like liquid sunshine. The air shimmered, and a barrier of golden light formed around her and Alexander—a perfect dome of divine protection.
Debris fell. A chunk of marble the size of a car door crashed down directly above them. The barrier deflected it effortlessly, the holy energy sending the rubble skittering harmlessly aside.
"Marcus!" Sophia's voice rang out, and for one desperate second, hope surged in his chest. "The barrier can only protect two people! Find your own way out!"
The words hit harder than any of the falling debris.
Marcus staggered, the crowd pressing around him, elbows and shoulders driving into his ribs as people fought for survival. Through the chaos, he watched his wife's golden barrier shimmer and pulse, protecting her and Alexander with divine power while leaving him exposed to the collapsing building.
"Sophia, please!" He reached toward her, twenty feet feeling like miles. "Just expand the barrier!"
"I can't!" She was already moving toward the emergency stairwell, pulling Alexander with her. "It takes too much holy energy! Alex is injured because of you—I have to protect him!"
Another massive tremor. The floor tilted at a sickening angle. A support beam tore free from the ceiling with a shriek of tortured metal, trailing electrical wires that sparked and hissed. It crashed down in an explosion of concrete and dust, the shockwave picking Marcus up and hurling him backward into a pile of debris.
His head cracked against something hard. Stars burst behind his eyes. When his vision cleared, he was half-buried in rubble, concrete dust filling his lungs.
"Sophia!" The word came out as a cough, barely audible over the building's death throes. "Help me!"
Through the smoke and swirling dust, he could see them ahead—Sophia and Alexander bathed in that golden protective glow, moving steadily toward the emergency stairwell. They looked like angels ascending to heaven while the world burned around them.
Marcus clawed his way out of the debris, every muscle screaming. His left arm throbbed—sprained or broken, he couldn't tell. Blood ran down his face from a gash somewhere in his hairline.
He stumbled forward, following the golden light like a moth to flame.
The stairwell entrance appeared through the smoke. Sophia and Alexander were already halfway down, the golden barrier lighting their path. Marcus reached the entrance, started down, when the building gave another violent lurch.
The stairwell buckled. Metal railings tore free. Concrete steps crumbled like sand.
"Move! Move!" Alexander's voice echoed up from below. "The whole thing's coming down!"
They emerged from the stairwell into what must have been a lower level—Marcus couldn't tell anymore, the building's geography had become a nightmare maze of collapsed walls and twisted metal. Smoke filled everything, making his eyes stream.
Through the haze, he saw it: a narrow opening in the rubble ahead, maybe four feet high and three feet wide. Beyond it, the faint glow of emergency lights. A way out.
But the gap was collapsing. Even as Marcus watched, chunks of concrete fell from the edges, making the opening smaller with each passing second.
Sophia and Alexander reached it first. They stopped at the entrance, and Sophia turned back.
Her eyes met Marcus's through the smoke and darkness.
For one heartbeat—one single moment suspended in time—Marcus thought she would help him. That despite everything, despite the humiliation and the cold indifference and the way she'd chosen Alexander over and over again, she would remember their wedding vows. Remember that she was his wife.
Then she turned to Alexander.
"Alex, go first!" Her voice carried that same desperate urgency she'd never used for Marcus. "You're injured and need medical attention! I promised Sophia I'd protect you! I can't break that vow!"
Alexander hesitated, looking back at Marcus. There was something in his expression—not concern, not sympathy. Something else. Something that looked almost like satisfaction. Triumph.
"What about Dom?" he asked, but the question felt performative. Empty.
"He's strong! He'll find another way!" Sophia was already pushing Alexander toward the gap, her barrier expanding just enough to shield him from the collapsing edges. "Go! Now!"
"Sophia!" Marcus's roar tore his throat raw. He ran, stumbling over debris, his injured arm hanging useless. "I'M YOUR HUSBAND! HELP ME!"
Alexander squeezed through the opening, his body protected by Sophia's golden light. She followed immediately, not even glancing back, her holy energy illuminating the path to safety.
Marcus reached the gap just as she disappeared through it. He threw himself forward, hands grasping at the edges—
And caught one glimpse of them on the other side.
Sophia had her arms wrapped around Alexander, her golden barrier cradling him like a lover protecting her beloved. They stood in a pool of emergency lighting, safe, whole, together. Alexander's head rested against her shoulder. Her hand stroked his hair with a tenderness Marcus had never received.
"Sophia!" Marcus's hand stretched through the gap toward them. "Please! Don't leave me!"
She looked back then. Their eyes met one final time.
And Marcus saw the truth in her gaze: she'd made her choice long before tonight. Maybe weeks ago. Maybe months. The woman he'd married—if she'd ever really existed—was gone. In her place stood a stranger who valued a promise to a friend more than her vows to her husband.
"I'm sorry," Sophia whispered. But she didn't move. Didn't extend her powers. Didn't try to save him.
Then the floor gave way beneath Marcus's feet.
The sensation of falling was almost peaceful for a moment—weightless, dreamlike. Then reality crashed back in the form of concrete and steel and darkness.
He plummeted into the building's collapsing guts. Above him, tons of debris followed, blocking out the light. A steel beam caught him across the ribs. Something sharp tore through his leg. Pain exploded everywhere at once, too much to localize, too much to process.
The world became a chaos of crushing weight and suffocating darkness. Marcus couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't do anything but lie there as the building finished its death throes around him.
His last conscious thought, as the black wave rose to claim him, was crystalline in its clarity:
I came here to save her. And she left me to die for him.
Then there was only darkness.
And in that darkness, something ancient stirred. Something that had been sleeping, waiting for three years for this exact moment. Waiting for the man who bore its bloodline to finally, truly, let go of everything that had been holding him back.
Waiting for Marcus Steel to break.
So it could begin putting him back together as something else entirely.
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 87 PART 2
The question hung in the air like a bomb.Zachary's mouth opened and closed. "I'm—I'm the founder! The patriarch!""Not an official position," Marcus replied. "Try again.""I'm a major shareholder!""Are you?" Marcus's smile was cold. "Quinn, would you mind checking the shareholder registry? How many shares does Zachary Hartford currently own?"Quinn pulled out her phone, accessing the company database with trembling fingers. Her eyes widened as she scrolled through the records."According to the registry," Quinn said quietly, her voice carrying despite its softness, "Zachary Hartford transferred all his shares to various family members three months ago. His current shareholding is... zero."Gasps rippled through the boardroom."That's—that's a lie!" Zachary protested, but his voice lacked conviction. "I have shares! I know I have—""You transferred them," Marcus interrupted, "to avoid personal liability when you thought Quinn would fail as acting chairman. You protected your assets b
CHAPTER 87 PART 1
Hartford Group Boardroom - 4:15 PMThe boardroom was packed beyond capacity. Twenty-three people crowded around the massive conference table, with more standing against the walls—every Hartford family shareholder, every board member who smelled blood in the water, every vulture eager to watch the Sacred Saintess fall.At the head of the table, Zachary Hartford sat in the chairman's seat like an enthroned king, his aged face radiating vindictive satisfaction. Oliver's wheelchair was positioned to his right, both legs in casts but his expression twisted with malicious glee.Tessa Hartford stood near the window, her sharp features animated with spite as she addressed the assembled crowd. "Today, we finally put an end to this farce! Quinn Hartford and her worthless husband have brought nothing but disaster to this company. It's time they learned their place—on the street where they belong!"Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room."The Sacred Saintess," Wesley Hartford sneered from
CHAPTER 86 PART 2
Quinn's Office - 4:02 PMQuinn Hartford stood by her office window, staring out at Grayson City's skyline with her characteristic cold indifference. She wore a tailored black business suit that emphasized her natural elegance, her hair pulled back in a severe bun, her posture perfect despite the crushing pressure bearing down on her.Marcus entered without knocking. The moment the door closed, Quinn's carefully maintained facade cracked slightly."They're all here," she said quietly, not turning from the window. "Every shareholder who wants me gone. Every family member who resents my position. The board has already scheduled the vote—they're not even pretending this is legitimate discussion. It's an execution.""I know," Marcus said, walking to stand beside her. "I met Zachary and Oliver downstairs. They were quite pleased with themselves."Quinn's jaw tightened. "Three hundred million. They drained three hundred million from our operating accounts. Without that liquidity, we can't me
CHAPTER 86 PART 1
Hartford Group Headquarters - 3:47 PMMarcus Steel's BMW pulled into the Hartford Group parking garage, the engine's purr echoing off concrete walls. He'd just left Titan Group after declaring war on Golden Eagle Group, and now he was returning to face the vipers' nest that was Quinn's own family.As he walked toward the main entrance, two familiar figures blocked his path.Zachary Hartford stood there in an expensive three-piece suit, his aged face twisted into a satisfied smirk. Beside him sat Oliver Hartford in a wheelchair, his face still bruised and swollen from Marcus's beating days earlier, both legs in casts, but his eyes burning with vindictive glee."Well, well, well," Oliver sneered, his voice dripping with malicious satisfaction. "If it isn't the great Marcus Steel. The nobody who married a Sacred Saintess and thought he could play with the big boys."Marcus stopped, regarding them with the same calm indifference he'd give to insects crawling on the sidewalk. "Oliver. Zach
CHAPTER 85 PART 2
"It's a promise!" Stanislaus stepped forward aggressively. "I'm giving you one chance, Steel. One chance to distance Titan Group from Hartford Group before we obliterate them. After that, you'll be caught in the crossfire."Marcus stood slowly, his dragon aura flickering just beneath the surface—invisible to normal eyes but making the air feel heavy and oppressive."Let me be equally clear, Mr. Potter," Marcus said quietly. "Hartford Group is under Titan Group's full protection. My wife—Sacred Saintess Quinn Hartford—is its acting chairman. Any attack on Hartford Group will be met with Titan Group's complete retaliation."The directors gasped. Gregory Walsh looked like he might have a heart attack. Thomas Marsh's mouth fell open in shock."You're declaring war on Golden Eagle Group?" Walsh squeaked. "That's—that's insane! They control half of Five-River Province! They could destroy us!""They could try," Marcus corrected. "And fail. Because Titan Group doesn't back down from bullies."
CHAPTER 85 PART 1
Director Gregory Walsh stared at Marcus Steel sitting in the chairman's seat, his mind struggling to process what he'd just witnessed. Chief Reynolds—the incorruptible head of security who answered only to Owen Cooper—had just called this young man "Boss."But it couldn't be true. It was impossible."This is absurd!" Another director—Thomas Marsh, a portly man in his fifties who'd served on Titan Group's board for fifteen years—slammed his hand on the table. "I don't care what Chief Reynolds said. You're nobody! Some upstart who married into the Hartford family! You can't just walk in here and—""Can't I?" Marcus's voice was utterly calm, but something in his tone made Marsh's protest die in his throat. "Director Marsh, is it? Tell me—how long have you worked for Titan Group?""Fifteen years," Marsh said defensively. "I've served this company with distinction while you were probably still in school!""Fifteen years of collecting a salary, attending meetings, and making mediocre decisi
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