“I didn't want to interrupt your work," Isaac replied, his gaze fixed on her.

Camila entered the car and said, "You've been waiting for a while, haven't you?"

"Not too long," Isaac reassured her before reminding her to fasten her seatbelt.

As the car pulled out of the parking lot, Camila noticed Harland's figure still on the ground. It had been there for hours.

"Pull over," she instructed Isaac.

Rolling down the window, she motioned for Eagle, who was behind them, to approach the car.

Once Eagle was beside them, Camila wasted no time asking, “Did you kill him?"

Eagle responded, "I didn't kill him. I was careful with my strike."

"Then why hasn't he departed?" inquired Camila, her brow furrowing.

“Perhaps when I tossed him, his leg fractured, rendering him immobile," speculated Eagle.

Camila asked in surprise, "Shouldn't he summon aid? What could be the reason for him lying there like that?"

Camila couldn't comprehend Harland's behavior. His leg was fractured, yet he remained completely still. Was he attempting blackmail or something else entirely?

Eagle clarified, “His inability to vocalize renders calling for help futile. With me here, no one dares to touch him."

Camila fell into a contemplative silence, absorbing the revelations.

Suddenly, Isaac's voice cut through the air, cold and unwavering.

"Well done," he interjected.

Deep within, he harbored the memory of Harland, the man Camila had once admired in secret.

A pang of jealousy washed over him, fueling a twisted satisfaction at his downfall.

“Thank you, Mr. Johnston," Eagle responded respectfully, his demeanor unyielding and icy.

Camila broke the silence, her voice firm. "Call 911 for him. It's not good for others to see him lying here."