Curtis Zastoupil Novels & Stories

She’d always suspected that Curtis was a dangerous man, though she had no real idea in what way. Yeah, she’d seen him brutally and viciously beat drunk men to a pulp, but then again, that was his job. Bouncing at Curves meant that Curtis was among the first people to step forward when trouble started – and trouble started there often.

It didn't take us long to find a routine that worked. I was fully trained and working alone after a month or so. A lot of my previous work experience was transferrable skills that I could use at Carter and Sons, which was brilliant. Julie checked in and there were weekly team meetings and updates. I had managed to work alongside Logan on a couple of occasions but found a lot of the work I was doing was for Jack and other partners at a higher level.

~Introduction to the Male lead~ Name: Zion Black Knight. Age: 19 years. Lives in: Manchester. A British national. Height: 6.1ft, Fair skin, black eye. He is a high schooler. He is somebody that can't be restrained or tamed. The child of world's best and richest businessman, Andrew Black Knight. The one who brought the renovation in the entire IT industry. He is rich, handsome and intelligent with a photographic memory. Perfect in every way.

“Soren will never be a problem to us. He is too small for us” “That he is” Zel acknowled with a satisfied low hum. Curtis believed that Soren was a fly he could deal with. He would deal with him before he even realised what was happening.

shouted back Austin. “Curtis,” said Joseph, “stop with your talk and get going with the plan.” “Ha! As if you guys got the guts to take the first hit,” said Austin. Curtis couldn’t handle any more of Austin’s insult. He was flared with anger. Spreading his wings higher than before he screeched, “ATTTTACCCK!” “The eagle’s took the bait,” said Austin, mind reading with his wolves. “So, be prepared. Get ready to kill.”

But until they had Sapphire out of whatever nightmare she’d gotten herself into, he had to tread carefully. Unlike most of the Donovans, who were tall and blond, Curtis was a short, stocky guy with shoulder-length brown hair and a goatee. He had small, kinda beady brown eyes, and a nose that looked too long for his face. At first glance, he seemed harmless enough, until you got to know what a ruthless little bastard he was. “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here,” Curtis said. “I lost one of my best men because of you, and had to fire another.” Razl snorted. “If they were your best, Donovan, then you need to do some new recruiting.”

“I told you! People’s champ, baby! My guy’s going to State!” Collins managed a shaky laugh, his chest tight with something between relief and disbelief. Then the laugh came. Low. Mocking. Familiar. Curtis. The older fighter leaned against the wall, arms folded, smirk curling at the edges. His bruises from their fight had faded, but the sting of losing clearly hadn’t. “Don’t celebrate too hard, rookie,” he drawled. “That list just means you’ll get chewed up in front of a bigger crowd.”

My throat closed with tears “Please don’t leave us.” His gaze flickered to Axel and Zarek. “Take care of her.” “You don’t have to tell me that old man” Curtis smiled faintly, then coughed, his body shuddering as he went still. A sob tore from my chest as I collapsed against him, my hands curling my fist into his blood-soaked shirt. Curtis was gone. And Varda had won.

It was a clever disguise. She explained that her Freshman year she lived in a dorm. Curtis was a Dean and Acting Provost that year, he had a PhD in speech and was publishing - low quality but his numbers led the university three years running, and at the time that was what made his name, it was a fig leaf for his tenure. He advanced quickly, everybody knew that he was a trustee of the Hightower trust. Frankly, the university board knew they could not afford not to make him the boss soon.

“Curtis Nayler… one of the owners of Triple AAA Landscapes. He and his cousin are who, I believe, have been vandalizing my job sites. Curtis was a short, stocky man. Although his arms were thick and muscled, his belly was big and soft. He opened the door and stepped in. His little brown beady eyes had a look of thunder. He glared at Olivia. “You had better keep your mouth shut.” He said. “Excuse me, I don’t believe we’ve met,” Dean said. “Oh, I know who you are, Grayson, and I’m not talking to you. I’m addressing this mouthy bitch who keeps running to the sheriff and telling lies about me and my cousin.”