The Ex-Con Who Conquered the World novel Chapter 67

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Norris let out a quiet sigh. "Even someone like me? When I got thrown in Dragon-Suppressing Prison, I was nothing compared to the real monsters in there. Didn't even register. But that guy..."

He paused, letting it sink in. "The worst of the worst—killers, kingpins, men who've forgotten more about violence than you'll ever know—they all call him the Fiend. Quietly. Behind his back. The guy they called the King of Assassins? Used to wash his feet every night. Give him massages. And you—" Norris' voice rose. "You thought it was a good idea to mess with him?"

Dawson went pale. The full weight of what he'd survived hit him like a truck. He'd just had a conversation with death itself—and somehow walked away.

*****

Stefan walked out of the Dynasty Club with Eliza, waiting by the curb for a ride.

A Lamborghini screamed up and slammed to a stop beside them. The kind of car that turned heads—and did exactly that. Phones came out. Jaw drops followed.

The door opened. A young man in designer everything stepped out, scanned the street, and landed on Stefan.

"Stefan? What are you doing here?"

Stefan glanced at him. It was Hank Stewart. The Stewart family's so-called heir. A guy who'd partied so hard his body had given up—now relying on pills for basic function. Not worth the air he breathed.

Stefan said nothing.

Hank, however, wasn't done. He walked over—then stopped. His eyes found Eliza.

He'd been with plenty of women. Models. Socialites. The usual circuit. But this one? Different. Fresh. Natural. The kind of beauty that didn't need filters or surgery. Curves in all the right places. And those legs in black stockings...

Hank swallowed. Then turned back to Stefan, his expression hardening. "You're engaged to Sara. And you're out here with another woman? You think the Stewarts won't hear about this?"

"Hank. I wasn't going to acknowledge you. But you just had to walk over." His voice was flat. "You forget what happened last time? Want a repeat?"

Stefan shot Hank a glance. "And since when do I need you to tell me what to do?"

"You—"

Hank's face flushed. "I'm trying to help you, you ungrateful—if my grandfather finds out, if my uncle finds out, you can kiss that engagement goodbye. You've been crawling on your knees to get into this family. So here's the deal." He forced a magnanimous smile. "Leave this woman with me. I keep my mouth shut. Everyone wins."