The Crimson Vultures' headquarters wasn't some underground bunker or flashy downtown tower.
It was a secluded villa tucked into the wooded outskirts of the city—a place hidden beneath layers of foliage and silence. The two-story structure was built with minimalist black stone and dark glass, exuding quiet elegance and subtle power. Tall iron gates stood at the front, guarded twenty-four-seven by elite members in black suits, each armed and alert.
The villa held everything a mafia gang could need.
On the first floor, there was a wide, open training room with reinforced walls.
A high-tech gym stocked with cutting-edge equipment.
A full-sized indoor swimming pool lined with low lights.
On the underground floor.
An underground vault that stored classified intel, forged identities, and clean money routes.
A basement to interrogate the captives.
The second floor was for living only—five spacious rooms, each customized to its resident.
A shared lounge.
A large meeting room with a round black-marble table, a wall of screens, and a private arsenal in a locked room behind it.
The third floor was exclusively reserved for Rin.
No one—not even his most trusted inner circle—was allowed to set foot on it without permission.
The Crimson Vultures had fewer than 300 members, but what they lacked in size, they made up for in strength. Each member was handpicked—trained to kill, spy, hack, and disappear. These weren't street thugs. They were elites—loyal, dangerous, and deadly.
But despite being part of the same organization, none of them lived in the headquarters.
Instead, they were scattered all across the city. Some ran fronts—clubs, garages, clinics, tech companies—while others blended into gangs, the underworld, or corporate worlds. Always watching. Always working. Always waiting for Rin's command.
Only six people lived in the villa.
Rin Asano — The elusive and feared boss of the Crimson Vultures.
Lucas — The second-in-command.
Ari — The youngest member of the gang and also the info gatherer of the group.
Kanji — The combat specialist.
Tobi —The hacker of the group.
Suri —The interrogator.
Together, they were Rin's most trusted. The core of the Crimson Vultures.
The iron gate slid open as the sleek black car rolled into the villa's circular driveway. The moment the door opened, Rin stepped out, still wearing the same dark attire from the club, his coat now hanging open and wind catching the ends of his shirt.
Inside, in the villa's main lounge, two figures stood the moment the front door clicked open.
"Boss," Tobi greeted with a respectful nod, standing straight. Beside him, Suri stood tall and quiet with cold eyes.
Rin responded to them with a nod and sat on the sofa at the center of the living room.
As soon as Rin sat down, the front door burst open.
"Rinnnn!!" a voice squealed.
Ari came running in at full speed, his shirt flapping behind him. He flung himself into Rin's lap before anyone could react.
The fierceness he showed at the club was nowhere to be seen now, right now he looks like a puppy who met his owner after a long time.
Rin's expression softened, and he let him hug him.
"You're suffocating him," Lucas said, shaking his head as he entered the villa and saw Ari sitting on Rin's lap.
Rin chuckled, ruffling Ari's messy chestnut hair. "It's fine. Let him be."
Ari grinned and shifted off Rin's lap, sliding beside him on the sofa, still clinging to his arm like a koala.
Ari was the youngest member of the Crimson Vultures' inner circle, and because of that, he was unapologetically spoiled by everyone.
His past was a grim shadow—his parents had died in a brutal gang battle when he was just a child. Left alone and vulnerable, Ari had been taken by human traffickers. It was Rin who had found him, bloodied and terrified, and rescued him from that nightmare. Since then, Rin had taken Ari under his wing, giving him a home, a purpose, and a sense of safety he thought he'd never have again.
To Ari, Rin wasn't just his boss—he was an older brother, a protector, someone he clung to with childlike innocence. And Rin, despite his cold and calculating exterior, treated Ari as if he were his blood.
Unlike the others in the gang who maintained a respectful distance, Ari was the only one who dared to climb onto Rin's lap uninvited, to cling to his side like a shadow, or to pout when things didn't go his way. It was a privilege no one else had.
After everyone sat on the sofas, Rin glanced at them, calm eyes narrowing just a bit. "How's the Ash Fang file coming? You've been tracking their core members for weeks."
Tobi stepped forward, handing him a black folder sealed with a red tab. "We finished compiling everything tonight."
"Good," Rin muttered. "Lucas, explain the things that happened in the meeting to them. I'm heading to my room for now."
The others nodded, already settling into work mode. Ari, reluctantly, let go of Rin's arm, his fingers lingering for a second longer, but he let go because he knew that Rin must be tired. Rin ruffles his hair as he stands up to leave.
On the third floor.
Unlike the opulence one might expect from a mafia boss, Rin's domain was minimalist and quiet.
The space consisted of four sections: A bedroom, a study, a gym, and a lounge area.
The third floor wasn't just his living space—it was a fortress of solitude, where the walls held secrets, grief, and the weight of leadership. A place where the mask came off.
Before going to his room, Rin stopped at his study, lined with shelves of confidential files, maps, old books, and case folders. A sleek desk sat near the floor-to-ceiling window.
Rin put the file that Tobi gave him on the desk and went to his room.
Rin's room was minimal—charcoal walls, ashwood shelves, a massive king-sized bed dressed in storm-gray sheets, and a balcony.
Rin peeled off his jacket and shirt, tossing them onto the nearby chair. His muscles were lean, built not for brute strength but for precision and speed—sharp and deadly, like a blade honed in secret.
He stepped into the bathroom, turning on the shower.
Steam filled the space in seconds. Hot water cascaded over his skin, loosening the tension coiled along his spine.
And then, it came—his scent, slowly unfurling like a ghost locked away too long.
Fallen rain. Cold, clean, and threaded with the faintest hint of crushed mint and old iron.
A scent far too rare for a Beta.
Because Rin Asano wasn't one.
He had been born an Omega.
A secret kept so tightly that even Lucas, his most trusted person, didn't know.
Suppressants.
Daily injections.
Specialized scent blockers.
He took them daily just to keep his secret hidden.
Omegas were rare. Desired. Controlled. Trafficked.
And Rin would burn the world before allowing anyone to cage him.
He stepped out of the shower. He tied a black silk robe around his waist and padded barefoot into the room, hair still damp, clinging to his nape.
He let his scent run free since no one came to the third floor.
A rare relaxed time for himself and his gland at the back of his neck.
Still barefoot and in a robe, he moved toward his study.
He picked up the black folder from the table and flipped it open.
Inside, it was the information on the key members of the Ash Fang's gang, which his subordinates spent quite some time gathering.
Inside were photographs and reports—names, movements, shady businesses, trafficking routes.
And then came the picture.
Silas Vael.
Sitting arrogantly in a private club room, a dazed, flushed omega slumped between his thighs, drugged. Behind him stood his right-hand man, Kane.
Rin's hands curled into fists.
He tore the photo from the page and crushed it in his fist.
For the first time that day, his voice carried a crack of raw emotion.
"You'll pay. Both of you. For everything."
He threw the picture in the trash and closed the file slowly, the promise echoing in the silence.