Slept With An "Ex-convict Nobody" - A Hidden Trillionaire!

Chapter 7: Sex with an “ex-convict nobody”

The air in Emma Robbins’ office was thick with tension, the scent of fresh coffee mingling with the sharp edge of designer perfume. The sleek lounge, with its glass table and cream leather sofa, felt like a courtroom, the three women—Emma, Stella, and Tracy—staring at Ethan Northstrum as if he were an intruder. 

Ethan’s brows lifted in slow realization—this woman in the tailored pantsuit, sharp eyes, and commanding presence… was her. 

The pretty lady from last night. The one he saved from Cobra and his men. Now turns out to be the same lady he spent the night with—the CEO, Emma Robbins.

Emma, on the other hand, looked like her soul had just left her body.

Her worst nightmare, standing tall and composed right in her office.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, her voice tight with disbelief and dread.

Her friends, Tracy and Stella, turned to her instantly. “You know him?” Tracy asked, puzzled.

“Wait… Emma?” Stella chimed in. “Is he—?”

Before Emma could respond, Jennifer the PA stepped forward, but Ethan answered first, cutting clean through the awkward silence.

“I brought something back,” he said calmly, holding out the envelope. “Something you forgot last night.”

Tracy’s jaw dropped. “Last night?” She gasped, eyes darting to Emma. “Is he the guy you had—?”

Before she could finish, Stella’s voice came through sharp. She had already scanned Ethan from top to toe—clothing, shoes, demeanor—and dismissed him without hesitation.

“Impossible,” she scoffed. “Emma wouldn’t touch someone like him. Not when she has someone like Danny De Angelis begging for her attention.”

Danny, heir to a telecom empire, was Sun Industrial City’s golden bachelor, his $25 billion fortune a beacon.

Tracy shot back, “Then how do you explain him being here?”

The two began arguing while Emma remained stiff, her face betraying internal chaos. It was all too much—too loud, too fast, too damn real.

“Enough!” Emma snapped.

The room silenced.

She snatched the envelope from Ethan’s hand and tore it open. Her eyes scanned the documents—yes, they were hers. The Enzogrande Corporation proposal she’d forgotten in the whirlwind of last night.

She lowered the papers slightly and looked at Ethan again.

“Thank you,” she muttered, tone stiff, pride barely letting her speak.

Stella’s curiosity was piqued again. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“Ethan Northstrum.”

Emma’s face twitched. Before her friends could pull this in the wrong direction, she cut through the tension herself.

“Yes. He’s the guy I had a one-night stand with.”

Silence fell again. But this time, it was louder.

Ethan stood calm, his excitement hidden—he’d just learned the damsel he saved from Cobra was the same CEO he’d woken beside, a woman of power and prestige.

Tracy blinked several times in disbelief. Jennifer let out a soft “oh my God.” Stella just stared.

“You what?” Tracy asked slowly.

Emma exhaled, bracing herself.

“Tracy,” Stella whispered, “please tell me she’s joking. Emma, please tell me you were at least drunk enough not to know what you were doing.”

“I was drunk,” Emma admitted coldly, avoiding Ethan’s gaze.

Tracy’s jaw clenched. Her CEO instincts kicking in. “Okay. Mr. Northstrum,” she began sharply, crossing her legs and leaning back with judgment in her eyes, “Tell us—what do you do for a living? What cars do you drive? Where do you live? What companies do you own?” 

Her questions were a checklist, her $300 million fashion empire sharpening her tone. 

“Tracy…” Emma warned.

Emma knew her friends and the kind of world they all exist in. Wealth, status, power, and influence ruled. Tracy, CEO of a $300 million fashion empire. 

And Stella, managing director of a top bank in the city, matched Tracy’s net worth and shared her obsession with social rank. 

Ethan’s plain clothes screamed nobody to them, a stark contrast to Danny de Angelis’ tailored suits and private jets.

But Tracy wasn’t done. “Because if you’re going to casually sleep with the most powerful woman under 30 in this city, we deserve to know if you’re a billionaire prince in disguise or a regular guy with good hair and lucky timing.”

Ethan paused for a beat. Then, with zero drama or hesitation, he replied:

“I have no car. No house. No job. I just got out of prison yesterday.”

Gasps. Sharp, short, painful.

Even Emma flinched. Her heart sank deeper, her shame a chokehold. 

An ex-convict? 

Her mistake wasn’t just a drunken fling—it was a catastrophe. 

Ethan watched their reactions, their disgust a mirror to Fort-tight’s early doubters. 

If only they knew—AMEN, the Almighty Master Ethan Northstrum, who’d tamed mafia lords, advised presidents, and held a $33 trillion empire in his pocket. 

One call could reverse Emma’s Enzogrande failure. One call could fulfill all their heart desires. 

Danny de Angelis? He and his family would tremble before Ethan. 

One push of a button in a device he had in his pocket, the entire military might of the country would be summoned to his location. 

But their disdain amused him too much to reveal it.

“You’re… a what?” Jennifer echoed.

“A former inmate,” Ethan replied calmly. “Five years.”

No one spoke. The silence this time was heavier. Judging. Crushing.

Jennifer took a small step back like he was contagious. “Ms. Emma…” she murmured. “You had sex with an ex-convict?”

Emma’s heart sank deeper. She hadn’t looked up once. She could feel the weight of everyone’s disgust. All of it. Her mistake, now a live, breathing reality.

Jennifer circled Ethan, inspecting him like a threat. “Should I call security?” she asked. “Maybe he has a record. Maybe he’s trying to blackmail you or—”

“Wait,” Tracy interrupted. “Let’s not panic. Ethan…” she turned with a sharp smile, “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Ethan said. “Just came to return what wasn’t mine.”

Stella leaned into Emma. “Girl… you’re worth half a billion. You could’ve had your pick of anyone. And now you’ve slept with someone who just walked out of prison. Do you know how many billionaires would offer their entire fortunes just for one night with you?”

Emma said nothing. The shame was too much. Too heavy. Too consuming.

She sank into the sofa, her face burning, her mind replaying the night—harassed by Cobra’s thugs, saved by someone she couldn’t recall, then waking beside Ethan. 

If her savior had been her fling, it might’ve softened the blow, at least she could boast of his might. But an ex-convict? She cursed her blurred memory.

Tracy rolled her eyes. “How about this—we give him a little payoff. Maybe fifty grand. He signs an NDA. Walks away. Never speaks of this again.”

Stella nodded, her eyes sharp. “Agreed. He’s fresh out of prison, broke, desperate. Probably took photos, videos—blackmail material.” 

She smirked at Ethan. “Congrats, you lived every man’s dream—You had sex with the beautiful Emma Robbins.” 

“Or,” Jennifer added darkly, “we lock him up and force him to sign a confession. Maybe even get him beaten a little—just to be sure. He’s an opportunist, saw Emma drunk and pounced.”

Ethan remained silent through it all, letting them unload every ounce of their assumptions.

They thought he was a scavenger. Their logic was sound—another man might’ve schemed, blackmailed, cashed out. 

They didn’t know he was the A.M.E.N.—the man behind empires, the shadow benefactor of their idols, the future heir to the richest private estate in the country.

And he smiled—not outwardly, but within—because their foolishness was protection. Let them think he was beneath them. Let them cast their judgments. He didn’t need to explain himself to anyone.

“I don’t want your money,” he said at last. “I’m leaving. You won’t see me again.”

He turned and headed for the door.

Jennifer rushed forward and blocked it with her body. “You’re not going anywhere until we make sure you’re not a threat!”

Tracy nodded. “We need guarantees.”

Ethan remained calm, his expression unreadable. “Suit yourself.”

Back at the table, Emma finally gathered enough strength to flip through the rest of the documents in the envelope… just to confirm all was intact.

And then she froze.

Her breath caught.

There—beneath the contract proposal—was something she hadn’t expected to see.

A document with a red wax seal.

Marriage Certificate.

Her hands trembled as she read it.

Issued by: Harmony Creek Local Registry, Outskirts of Sun Industrial City.

Date: Yesterday. Time: 11:06 PM.

Bride: Emma Jane Robbins

Groom: Ethan Northstrum

Both names signed. Clearly.

Her own signature mocked her from the paper.

She looked up, eyes wide, her voice shaking.

“Ethan… come back.”

He turned at the door.

She handed the certificate to him.

“What the hell is this?” she asked.