The Ex-Con Who Conquered the World novel Chapter 62

Dawson could barely contain himself. He was already reaching for his belt when—

The door swung open again. A group of his men filed in. "Boss. The kid's here. They're bringing him up now."

Dawson's mood soured fast. Being interrupted once was annoying. Twice was starting to piss him off.

But fine. The kid was coming. He could wait a few more minutes. Eliza wasn't going anywhere. And when the bastard got here, Dawson would make damn sure he watched. Every second.

"Everyone ready?"

Dawson's voice was low.

Scarlett was quick to answer. "Boss, we've got over forty guys stationed on this floor alone. Once he's in, he's not leaving."

"Good."

Dawson smirked. He dropped onto the sofa like he owned the room, lit a cigar, and leaned back.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway.

The door opened. A lackey stepped in, followed by Stefan.

Stefan's face was calm. Unreadable.

Like the surface of the ocean right before a storm.

He was furious. If something happened to Eliza because of him—because of some cheap, petty revenge—he'd never forgive himself.

His eyes swept the room. Found her. Two men had her pinned to the sofa. Her face was flushed, her eyes glassy.

"Stefan—run! Get out of here!"

The sight of him seemed to pull her back from the fog. She remembered what she'd overheard—this was a trap. They'd set everything up, waiting for him to walk right into it.

He came anyway.

Part of her wanted to cry. Part of her wanted to scream.

"Go! Don't worry about me—there are so many of them, they—"

Slap.

Scarlett backhanded her across the face. "Shut up, bitch. Scream all you want—he's not going anywhere. You're gonna sit there and watch us break every bone in his body."

Stefan's eyes went cold. Sharp as a blade. He looked at Scarlett.

Dawson laughed, "Let her go? I'll let your corpse go—after I'm done with it." He raised a hand. "Take him apart."

Seven or eight men moved at once. Blades came out. They closed in fast.

Thud. Crack. Thump.

They went down faster. One second they were charging. The next they were on the floor, groaning, broken.

Dawson blinked. He hadn't even seen the kid move.

His jaw tightened. "Everyone. Now."

The door burst open. Men poured in—dozens of them, armed with pipes, knives, chains. They filled the room, blocked the exits.

Dawson's smile returned. "Fast, are you? Doesn't matter. You're still one man. I run this town. I've got forty men in this room alone. What've you got?"

Stefan was quiet for a moment. Then he smiled, "Really shouldn't have messed..."

Dawson saw it and leaned back, confident. "What's that? You scared now? Good. I'll give you a choice. Get on your knees. Break your own arms and legs. And maybe—maybe—I let you crawl out of here alive."

Stefan's smile didn't fade. "I wasn't talking about me."