Just then, a voice thundered from the entrance.
“What the actual f**k is happening here?”
The owner stepped in. He looked no older than a teenager, his red-tinted hair wild, his face sharp with arrogance. Everyone immediately bowed.
Hades dropped to one knee. “Young Master Rowen,” he said.
“This is the man who beat us up and came for damages.”
Rowen stepped forward, boots clicking on the concrete.
He was the only son and heir of Majeek.
Rowen’s voice rose again. “Is he crazy? Hasn’t he heard of the Cheetah Gang?”
He peered at Alex, a smirk curling. “By the look of you, I can tell you know some martial arts. Cute. But look around — there are guns. Over three hundred. You’ll die before you even raise an arm. Now leave. This instant.”
Alex didn’t flicker. Cobra stayed rigid beside hi
