The Ex-Con Who Conquered the World novel Chapter 68

Inside the suite, the thugs Stefan had beaten were long gone—carried out to wherever they'd lick their wounds. Dawson was still there. When Hank walked in, Dawson's battered face darkened.

"Dawson... what happened to you?"

Hank stared, barely recognizing the man in front of him. Dawson's face was a mess—swollen, bruised, barely human.

His mind raced. Who the hell would dare start trouble on Celestial Wyrm turf? And leave a branch leader looking like this?

"Nothing. Don't ask about things that don't concern you."

Dawson's voice was ice. No way he was telling this rich brat what went down tonight.

"Hey. You." Norris exhaled a cloud of smoke, his voice dripping with irritation. "You've got some lungs on you. What's all the yelling about?"

Who the hell was this old prick?

Hank kept the thought to himself. He was Hank Stewart, heir to one of the city's elite families. This guy had some nerve, talking to him like that.

But he smiled anyway, "Dawson, who's this?"

"You blind or something? This is Mr. Burgess. Deputy leader of the Celestial Wyrm Society."

Hank's heart skipped.

Deputy leader?

Dawson's boss. The man who ran things.

"Mr. Burgess." Hank stepped forward, all respect now. "Hank Stewart, from the Stewart family. An honor." He was utterly relieved he hadn't let his frustration show earlier; otherwise, he would've been in deep trouble.

Norris gave him a lazy once-over. "What do you want?"

The Stewarts mattered in this city. He'd at least hear the kid out.

"Simple, really. Some nobody crossed me. I was hoping for a few of your guys to teach him a lesson. Nothing permanent—just enough to humiliate him." Hank paused. "I'll pay a million for the trouble."

"A million?" Dawson's voice was flat. "You think Mr. Burgess works for peanuts?"

Hank's smile tightened. "Three million, then."

This was standard. Rich kids and businessmen paid the Society to handle their dirty work all the time. Easy money.

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