Chapter 121: You? Trash like you?

A young man, a cigar clenched between his teeth, strode in with such brazen swagger that it bordered on contempt. He looked as if the world itself were beneath him. The moment he entered the courtyard, the burly enforcers who'd seemed so vicious before all bowed their heads, obedient as servants. Night hung over the yard like a dark bowl, a pool of light at its center. "Who's Oliver Morris? Step forward." Malcolm-the cigar-chomping peacock-let his gaze sweep over Oliver and his companions, his...