Chapter Thirty Six: The Vulture

They thought he was dead.

Buried beneath the rubble of his last betrayal, stripped of influence, hunted like a dog. They whispered his name in shadows, spat it between teeth soaked in vengeance. But they were wrong.

He had never been easier to find, because he wanted to be found. Just not by them.

The man they used to call brother, ally, friend, had become something else entirely.

Now, in the underworld, he was known only as The Vulture.

A name earned in blood and dishonor. Not because he circled the dead, but because he made them. Stripped them clean. Picked them dry. Left nothing but bone for the world to remember them by.

And that’s exactly what he planned to do again.

He sat in the shadows of a dimly lit warehouse, watching the live feed flicker across the monitors. Faces, locations, encrypted chatter on dark web networks, and flashing alerts, all stemming from one thing.

A girl.

Her image had gone viral through underground channels within hours, Catalina’s last parting gift.

Emili