Not worthy.

"Warning: This chapter contains violent language. Reader discretion is advised."

Damien

"She jumped! What do we do, boss?" one of the Talons exclaimed, his voice shrill with panic.

"Y-yeah, they want her alive! We'll be dead if she dies!" another one chimed in, his trembling hands clutching his weapon.

"I-I don't know, okay? The leaders will understand. As long as we didn't directly kill her, we're safe." The so-called boss tried to sound calm, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him. Coward. He was the one barking orders to shoot her earlier, and now he was scrambling for excuses.

"Move the car," I instructed Mike over the phone as I started toward the cliff. Hidden among the thick canopy of trees, I had watched the scene unfold from a vantage point.

Cleopatra. This woman had actually jumped. Was she tired of living? Desperate? Whatever her reasons, I couldn't let her die—not yet. Her identity was still crucial to keeping the sharks at bay, and her death would complicate everything.

As I ran through the dense undergrowth, the chaos around the cliff edge reached my ears. Talons scurried in every direction, shouting over each other like headless chickens.

"Where do I park?" Mike asked, his voice laced with panic. "If she hits the car, she'll be as good as dead! And don't forget, I'm still inside the damn thing!"

"Just put it in the middle!" I snapped, frustration bubbling to the surface. Mike thought I wanted the car to cushion her fall—how idiotic.

Above me, she was falling fast, her body a speck growing larger by the second. I could see the street lights catching her hair, and even at that moment, I cursed her recklessness. But something else caught my eye—another fight uphill, flashes of movement among the trees.

"Mike, head uphill. One of her people is up there," I ordered.

"On it," he replied, clearly eager to ditch the car. I caught a glimpse of him jumping out before sprinting toward the commotion, probably glad to avoid being crushed.

Rolling my eyes, I leaped onto the hood of the car, climbing onto the roof. I had to reduce the distance between us if I was going to catch her.

The world seemed to slow as she plummeted closer. Her body was limp, arms flailing slightly before going still. I launched myself into the air, timing it perfectly to catch her mid-fall, her unconscious form collapsing into my arms.

She was light—too light—and unresponsive. Panic clawed at me for a brief moment, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the essentials. A quick check of her wrist revealed a pulse, faint but steady. Her breathing was shallow, but it was there.

Landing heavily on the ground, I opened the car door and gently placed her inside. A graze on her arm from a bullet caught my attention, and I grabbed my tie from the backseat to compress the wound. It wasn't severe, but it needed attention.

Why had she fainted? Shock? Blood loss? None of it added up, and I didn't have time to dwell on it.

"Bro, you ruined my car!" Mike's voice blared from my phone, dragging my attention back. "Do you know how much I struggled to buy it? I haven't even finished paying for it yet!"

I ignored him.

"Wait, wait, bro, they're coming for the car—the Talons! They're coming!" he yelled, panic escalating in his voice.

I looked up to see them creeping toward me, guns in hand. Their movements were hesitant, as if afraid to wake a sleeping beast.

Cowards.

"What's going on up there? Did you rescue anyone?" I asked, keeping my tone calm.

"Yeah, but only one injured girl," Mike replied. Only one? What about Cleopatra's backup team? Her trained guards? The so-called assassins who were supposed to protect her?

"What are we—I mean, you—going to do about the Talons?" he asked, voice wavering again.

"Don't worry. I'll handle it," I said curtly.

"Alright, we'll stay up here until you're done. Let me know if you need me to call the police. This isn't one of those movie stunts you pull, Don. This is real combat," Mike said.

"Whatever, coward," I shot back.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a coward, but I know my limits. Don't force yourself, okay? Just scream if it gets bad. I've got the police on speed dial. And by the way, don't hurt your face—it's the only thing of value about you, Don Vicent."

"And—" he began, but I hung up. His voice was as grating as the idiots sneaking up on me.

I gently placed Cleopatra in the backseat, took the keys, locked all the doors, and stepped in front of the car.

"Heh, look at him, acting like some action movie star," one of them sneered.

"Boy, move away from the car if you don't want to get hurt. We only want the woman in the car. Nothing else," the cowardly boss said, showing off his yellowed teeth in a grotesque grin.

I cracked my knuckles.

"Huh? Look at this, he actually wants to fight. What's it gonna be, 20-on-1?" The boss continued, and his group laughed like a bunch of clowns.

"We don't want to hurt you," another one added, "but your pretty-boy face? It's gonna be ruined once we're done with you. Don't you care about it?"

I didn't say a word. They were wasting my time.

As I closed in, one of them stared at me, eyes widening in recognition. "Wait... he looks like that actor, Don!"

The group stilled, murmuring among themselves.

"Are you sure? Don Vicent's a classy guy, not some thug. Look at this hooligan," another said, dismissing the idea.

The insult caught me off guard. I grabbed a stray metal rod off the tar road.

"Hooligan, huh?" I chuckled darkly. "Guess I must have multiple personalities. And I hear people with that condition can get a little wild."

Before they could react i closed the distance, wrapping the metal rod around the boss's neck and choking him. His eyes bulged, and he screamed in panic.

"What are you doing?! If you do anything, they'll shoot," he gasped, voice trembling.

I chuckled, dark and cold. "Tell them to shoot, then."

He froze, pleading for his life. "Okay, okay! They won't shoot! I swear, they won't hurt you. They're under my command!"

As if on cue, he shouted to his men, "Don't shoot him! Don't shoot him, you idiots! Put those guns down!"

I spat, irritation rising. "Annoying."

I tightened my hold on the metal rod, watching his face turn pale. His body jerked as he gasped for air. Leaning in close, I whispered in his ear, "Tell whoever told you that you'd join the Eagles to turn himself in. I don't want scum in my gang. And when I let go of this, punish yourself. Do whatever you think is fitting."

He nodded, desperate, and I released him. He staggered toward his crew, grabbed a knife, and stabbed himself in the thigh, turning back to me looking for approval.

I didn't say anything. Instead, I threw his phone back at him. The screen lit up with a message I left for him:

"Next time, I'll personally use this to cut off your tongue if you even think about associating with the Eagles again. You're not worthy."

The boss nodded shakily, his face pale.

As I turned back to the car, I spared a glance at Cleopatra. Despite her unconscious state, she looked peaceful, almost regal.

"You're more trouble than you're worth," I muttered, climbing into the driver's seat.