Every king has an enemy.And every gang has a rival.For the Black Fangs, that enemy had a name.
Vulture Syndicate.
If Black Fangs were fire and rage,Vultures were ice and venom.
They didn't ride loud bikes.They moved in silence. Calculated. Precise.Less noise, more blood.
Their territory was the East District—a place full of underground fights, stolen cars, and alleyways no one walked alone.And at the top of their food chain was one name everyone feared almost as much as Rayzen's:
Kael.
Kael was nothing like Rayzen.
Where Rayzen was reckless, loud, and wild,Kael was sharp, cold, and quiet.
He didn't waste words. He didn't show emotion. And he never, ever lost control.With jet-black hair slicked back, a permanent scowl, and a stare that could freeze time, Kael didn't need to yell to make people listen.
And if there was one thing Kael hated more than betrayal,It was Rayzen.
Their history was long, messy, and soaked in blood.Fights. Territory wars. Broken alliances.But what made it personal…Was a girl.
He first saw her near the old bookstore on campus.She was helping an old lady with her groceries. Smiling like the world hadn't gone to hell yet.
Alea.
That name stuck in Kael's mind like a blade in the ribs.
He didn't know why.Didn't understand how someone so soft could make him stop in his tracks.He'd seen her once, maybe twice, and yet... she stayed.
Kael didn't believe in angels.But if he did—she'd be one.
And now, he hears a rumor.
That Rayzen—his most hated enemy—had been seen watching her too.
Kael lights a cigarette, jaw clenched.
"This city's only big enough for one devil," he mutters, smoke curling around his words.
"And she's not going to fall for him."