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Jayden pivoted, rolled, and fired again. He didn't make a hit though, and frantically, he started to run. Pain erupted in his ribs as a solid fist slammed into his side.

He staggered. "Fuck." He clutched his side, seething, but got another hit. A boot to the stomach.

Jayden hit the ground hard, coughing, his vision blurring. He tightened his grip on the gun, glad that he still had it, and tried to turn around to take aim but was knocked back down with a knee against his back.

One of the masked men pressed a gun to his temple, and he found it hard to breathe. This is it—the moment where he dies.

But no, he hadn't come this far just to fail. Breathe, Jayden, he thought. Think. React.

With a last burst of energy, Jayden twisted violently, knocking the gun aside. He grabbed the man's wrist, yanked hard, and slammed his elbow into his throat.

The man choked, dropping his weapon.

Jayden snatched it and fired point-blank.

Two down. His limbs shook from exhaustion, pain radiating through his body. It only got worse when a gunshot rang out, and he turned.

"Ahhhh!" he cried out as the bullet embedded in his arm. He fell to his knees. He wasn't going to last much longer.

But he wasn't going to die, either. Not here, not like this.

He lifted his head, wondering why the attackers were not shooting anymore, and then a shrill sound rang out.

"That's enough," Marcel said, stepping out of the shadows.

Jayden's blood turned to ice as he looked from the men who had lowered their weapons to Marcel. These were not Caius's men—they were Dante's.

His mind reeled. This was a setup. A fucking test.

Marcel crossed his arms. "You put up a good fight."

Jayden's fists clenched. His side burned, and he was losing blood by the minute, but that did not dull his rage.

"You knew?" he demanded. "You left me out here to die?"

Marcel shrugged. "If you were going to die, then you weren't worth keeping."

Jayden took a shaky breath, swallowing down the pure fury that boiled inside him.

"Congratulations." Marcel's tone was cold. "You passed."

Jayden wanted to punch something. But all he could do was manage to get on his feet, wondering if he had made a good choice coming here in the first place.

\---

Back in the surveillance room, Dante smirked.

He had seen the moment Jayden realized the truth. That anger and hatred that refused to break. Good—the man was really proving that he was something.

Marcel's voice crackled through the speaker. "What do you want to do with him?"

Dante leaned back, fingers drumming against the table. "Give him a room," he said smoothly. "Let's see how well he plays with the rest of us."

\---

Jayden barely got any sleep.

His entire body ached from the beating he took yesterday. His arm was bandaged and the bullet had been removed, but it hurt like hell. Every inch of him throbbed.

But at least he had a place to sleep in Dante's estate. Surely that counted for something. Maybe the tests were over and he could finally breathe.

A knock on his door told him that he thought too soon. The door swung open without him answering, and he saw Marcel in the doorway.

"The boss wants to see you."

Jayden's head snapped up. "What?" he asked, but Marcel offered no explanation. He simply shut the door, leaving Jayden to wonder what awaited him next.

Jayden dragged himself to his feet, ignoring the protest of his muscles. Might as well get it over with. He barely had time to clean up when Marcel came back to lead him to Dante.

Dante looked up as the door to his private office swung open and Jayden and Marcel walked in. He lifted the glass of whiskey off his massive mahogany desk and took a sip of it. It was barely morning, but who cared?

Jayden looked pretty much beat, his posture sagging a bit due to the pain he was in, and Dante nodded slowly. You can't get the best out of a man unless you break him.

Dante took a slow sip before finally speaking. "You've managed," he mused. "Most wouldn't have made it past yesterday."

Jayden said nothing. He wasn't about to thank him for that prank.

Dante leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "But there's one last thing you need to do before I can trust you."

Jayden followed his gaze to the single knife that lay on the desk between them, and his heart sank.