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The Million Dollar Janitor

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The Million Dollar Janitor

Urbanlast updateLast Updated : 2025-04-04

By:  LonerOngoing

Language: English
16

Chapters: 47 views: 137

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ActionActor / ActressHidden IdentityWeak to Strong

Evan Creed, a struggling janitor in Chicago, discovers he’s the secret heir to the Syndicate—a powerful criminal empire—after finding a hidden phone in a billionaire’s penthouse. With no experience and only his street smarts, Evan must navigate a deadly underworld of gangsters, corrupt cops, and rival factions vying for his throne, all while hiding in plain sight as a nobody. His journey from mop to millions promises gritty action, shocking twists, and a rags-to-riches rise that will keep readers hooked

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    chapter 1 The Discovery

    Evan Creed dragged his mop across the grimy floor, the wet slap echoing in the empty hallway. It was past midnight, and the Chicago high-rise loomed dark and quiet around him. At twenty-eight, he felt older—worn down by years of scrubbing toilets for minimum wage. His back ached, his boots squeaked, and his bank account screamed zero. Three bucks left. Rent was due tomorrow, and the landlord’s last text still burned in his pocket: Pay up or pack up.He pushed the bucket forward, water sloshing over the edge. The penthouse level smelled like money—polished wood, leather, and secrets he’d never touch. Rich folks lived up here, not guys like him. Evan was just the janitor, invisible, stuck cleaning their messes. Tonight, though, the mess wasn’t just dirt. The billionaire who owned this place, Victor Hale, had died two days ago—heart attack, they said. But Evan had overheard tenants whispering in the elevator: Murder. Poison. Something shady. He didn’t care. Dead or alive, Hale wasn’t pa

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    47 chapters
    chapter 1 The Discovery
    The Million Dollar Janitor/Loner
    Evan Creed dragged his mop across the grimy floor, the wet slap echoing in the empty hallway. It was past midnight, and the Chicago high-rise loomed dark and quiet around him. At twenty-eight, he felt older—worn down by years of scrubbing toilets for minimum wage. His back ached, his boots squeaked, and his bank account screamed zero. Three bucks left. Rent was due tomorrow, and the landlord’s last text still burned in his pocket: Pay up or pack up.He pushed the bucket forward, water sloshing over the edge. The penthouse level smelled like money—polished wood, leather, and secrets he’d never touch. Rich folks lived up here, not guys like him. Evan was just the janitor, invisible, stuck cleaning their messes. Tonight, though, the mess wasn’t just dirt. The billionaire who owned this place, Victor Hale, had died two days ago—heart attack, they said. But Evan had overheard tenants whispering in the elevator: Murder. Poison. Something shady. He didn’t care. Dead or alive, Hale wasn’t pa
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-25
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    Chapter 2 Figth or Flight
    The Million Dollar Janitor/Loner
    Evan Creed crouched in the park, wet grass soaking his knees. The thug’s shadow loomed closer, lit by the SUV’s headlights cutting through the trees. “Got you,” the guy snarled, his voice rough like gravel. Evan gripped the brick tight, heart slamming against his ribs. He wasn’t a fighter—just a janitor caught in something big. That phone in his pocket buzzed again, but he didn’t dare check it. Not now. Not with a gun probably aimed at his head. The thug stepped forward, a big guy with a scar across his cheek. Evan saw the glint of metal—a pistol in his hand. No time to think. Evan lunged up, swinging the brick with everything he had. It smashed into the guy’s arm, hard. The gun flew, landing somewhere in the bushes with a thud. The thug cursed, stumbling back, but he was quick—too quick. He swung a fist, catching Evan’s jaw. Pain exploded in Evan’s face. He hit the ground, tasting blood. The world spun, but he rolled fast, grabbing his mop—he’d dropped it running. The thug came at
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-25
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    Chapter 3 The Underworld Unvelled
    The Million Dollar Janitor/Loner
    Evan Creed froze on the rooftop, pipe clutched tight in his hands. The soft footsteps echoed behind him—someone new, not the thugs who’d just peeled off in the SUV. His jaw throbbed from the fight, blood still wet on his lip, but he turned slow, ready to swing. The city hummed below, lights flickering like a trap closing in. He wasn’t safe—not yet. A figure stepped from the shadows—a woman, sharp and cool in a black suit. She was tall, dark hair pulled tight, eyes like knives cutting through the dark. No gun, just a smirk. “Easy, janitor,” she said, voice smooth but firm. “You’re swinging at the wrong person.” Evan didn’t drop the pipe. “Who are you?” His voice cracked, hoarse from running. The phone in his pocket felt heavy—Claim it at the docks. Midnight. This had to be tied to it. “Name’s Lila,” she said, stepping closer. Her boots clicked on the roof. “Syndicate business. You’re Evan Creed, right? The heir nobody saw coming.” She tilted her head, sizing him up like he was a st
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-25
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    chapter 4 Cleaning House
    The Million Dollar Janitor/Loner
    Evan Creed crouched behind the mailbox, the black sedan’s headlights washing over him. His breath fogged in the cold Chicago air, heart pounding like a drum. The car crept closer, engine low and mean. He clutched the black card Lila gave him—his ticket to millions, maybe—and the rusty pipe he’d grabbed on the roof. Midnight was inching near, the docks still miles away. He wasn’t sure who was in that sedan—Syndicate suits, . A guy stepped into the streetlight—tall, bald, suit crisp like he’d walked off a movie set. No gun yet, but his hand rested on his hip, ready. “Come on out, Creed,” he called, voice smooth and cold. “We know you’re there.” Evan’s stomach dropped. They knew his name. Not just some random chase—this was personal. He stayed low, mind racing. Lila said the Syndicate’s council wanted him dead—five bosses fighting for Hale’s throne. Was this one of their dogs? He couldn’t fight a bullet with a pipe, but he wasn’t giving up either. The bald guy took a step, scann
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-25
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    Chapter 5 The Traitor's Game
    The Million Dollar Janitor/Loner
    Evan Creed stood frozen, the cop’s voice cutting through the night. “Drop the weapon, Creed,” the guy said again, hand on his gun. The sedan’s headlights blazed behind Evan, boxing him in on the dark Chicago street. Pipe in one hand, cash stuffed in his jacket, he felt like a rat in a trap. Midnight loomed close—the docks, his shot at claiming the Syndicate, slipping away. But this cop wasn’t normal. No lights, no backup. Syndicate, Evan thought. Had to be.“I said drop it!” the cop barked, stepping closer. His badge glinted, but his eyes were cold—bought, not brave. Evan’s mind raced. The sedan’s engine growled, doors clicking open. Two hunts, one prize—him. He wasn’t dying here. Not yet.He tossed the pipe, letting it clang loud on the pavement. The cop smirked, relaxing a hair. Big mistake. Evan bolted sideways, diving behind a parked van. A gunshot cracked—the cop’s, not the sedan’s. The bullet pinged off metal, missing him by inches. Evan scrambled up, sprinting down the street.
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-25
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    Chapter 6 Building the crew
    The Million Dollar Janitor/Loner
    Evan Creed stared at the silver-haired man stepping from the limo—Kane, one of the Syndicate council’s five bosses. The street near the docks felt colder now, wind biting through his torn janitor uniform. The gun in his hand shook, aimed loose at Kane’s chest. Lila stood beside him, her own pistol half-raised, eyes darting between Evan and the man. Midnight had hit—the docks were steps away—but this wasn’t the plan.“Lower that,” Kane said, voice calm, like he was ordering coffee. His suit gleamed under the streetlights, sharp and expensive. “I’m not here to kill you, Evan. Not yet.” His smile was thin, a snake’s promise.Evan didn’t budge. “You know my dad. Talk.” His jaw ached from the night’s fights, blood crusting on his lip. The black card in his pocket—loaded with Syndicate cash—felt heavier every second. Kane’s name rang from the cop’s chatter: the brainy one, cautious, watching. Dangerous.Kane clasped his hands, unruffled. “Tommy Creed was loyal—Hale’s rock. Smart too. Kept t
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-25
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    Chapter 7 The syndicate's Test
    The Million Dollar Janitor/Loner
    Evan Creed spun toward the crash, gun shaking in his hand. Glass shards glittered on the club floor as men in suits stormed in—five, maybe six, all packing heat. Russo, sprawled by the table with a busted arm, laughed through the pain. “Told you, kid. Council doesn’t play.” His gold chains clinked as he struggled up, smirking like he’d already won. Evan’s heart slammed. Ricky loomed beside him, bat raised, eyes wide but steady. The back room felt smaller now, walls closing in. Neon lights flickered outside, bass thumping through the chaos. These weren’t street thugs—too sharp, too synced. Syndicate muscle, sent by the council—Voss, Russo, Kane, Elena, or Marcus. Maybe all of them. “Out!” Evan yelled, shoving Ricky toward the door they’d pried open. A gunshot cracked—wood splintered above his head. He ducked, firing wild with the cop’s gun. The suits scattered, diving behind tables. Evan’s shot hit nothing but air—he wasn’t a shooter, just a janitor with luck running thin. Ricky sw
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-25
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    Chapter 8 Power Plays
    The Million Dollar Janitor/Loner
    Evan Creed froze in the warehouse, the bag of Syndicate cash and guns heavy in his hands. Voss’s voice cut through the dawn like a blade—“Find him! Tear it apart!”—sharp, mean, and way too close. Headlights sliced through the grimy windows, three cars unloading suits faster than Evan could count. Ricky crouched beside him, bat dripping with sweat and a little blood from the guards they’d just dropped. The air stank of oil and danger, and Evan’s heart pounded like it wanted out of his chest.“Boss man himself,” Ricky whispered, grinning despite the odds. “You pissed him off good.”Evan peeked around a crate. Voss was there—short, scarred, built like a pitbull with a bad attitude. The council’s muscle king stomped toward the warehouse, barking at his crew. Dawn grayed the sky outside—Evan’s deadline to “eliminate the traitor” hitting hard. He’d raided Voss’s stash, but the traitor hunt was still a mess—Russo, Kane, someone else? No time to guess now.“Plan?” Ricky asked, gripping the b
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-25
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    Chapter 9 The Council's Gambit
    The Million Dollar Janitor/Loner
    Evan Creed stared down ten guns in Elena’s penthouse, the Syndicate’s trap snapping shut around him. Marble floors gleamed under chandelier light, a sharp contrast to the blood pounding in his ears. Elena stood cool and smug, red dress hugging her like a warning, wine glass back in hand. “Game’s mine now,” she repeated, voice smooth as silk but hard as steel. Ricky gripped his bat beside Evan, breath heavy, ready to swing despite the odds. Ten suits—big, trained, Syndicate muscle—fanned out, blocking every exit. Evan’s pistol felt small, useless against this.“You set us up,” Evan said, voice rough, gun steady but heart racing. Elena killed Hale, maybe Tommy too—her quiet game outplayed Voss’s fists and Russo’s noise. The council’s power dance just got real, and Evan was the pawn caught in it.Elena tilted her head, smirking. “Set up? No, Evan. I waited. Voss and Russo ran wild—you hit them, stirred the pot. I just scooped the prize.” She sipped her wine, eyes glinting. “Hale’s empi
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-25
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    Chapter 10 The Watcher's Game
    The Million Dollar Janitor/Loner
    Evan Creed hit the penthouse floor hard, bullets tearing through the air above him. Glass shattered, Elena’s scream cut short as Kane’s suits stormed in—five of them, guns blazing, loyal to the silver-haired snake who’d just flipped the table. Kane stood calm, suit unruffled, that thin smile still on his face. “Council’s mine now,” he’d said, voice cool as ice. Evan rolled behind a flipped couch, pistol gripped tight, heart slamming. Elena scrambled for cover, red dress streaked with wine and panic. Kane wasn’t just a player—he was rewriting the game.Evan fired—two wild shots, clipping a suit’s shoulder. The guy grunted, stumbling, but the others fanned out, pros not punks. Kane’s crew—sharper, quieter than Voss’s bruisers or Russo’s loudmouths. Evan’s earpiecrackled—Mia’s voice, frantic: “Evan, cops closing—Voss and Russo too! Get out!” The Syndicate’s chaos was colliding, and Kane stood above it, watching like a hawk.“Kane!” Evan yelled, popping up, gun aimed. “You set this up—h
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-02-25
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