The streets raised them. Three boys with nothing—no family, no home—just hunger and fists. The city taught them to steal, to fight, to kill. And by the time they were men, they weren’t survivors anymore. They were predators.

Their names became legend in the underworld: Min Yoongi. Kim Namjoon. Jeon Jungkook.

They didn’t run a gang. They ran an empire. Drugs. Weapons. Money. Blood. Every crime you could name—they had their hands in it. Every alley whispered their names, every police report carried their shadows.

I’d been on their trail for years. Files stacked high on my desk, evidence that never seemed enough, witnesses who vanished before they could speak. These men weren’t ghosts—they were gods in a city that worshipped fear.

But gods bleed when they make mistakes.

And their mistake was a girl.

Seventeen years old. Tae. She wasn’t supposed to see it—Jungkook, the youngest, putting a bullet in a man under a flickering streetlight. She wasn’t supposed to survive long enough to run. But she did. For a moment. Long enough to catch my attention.

Now she was gone. Taken. Hidden somewhere in their world of clubs, warehouses, and blood-soaked deals. If I found her, I’d have the key to finally bring them down. If I didn’t… she’d disappear, swallowed by the same streets that had raised them.

That’s why I walked into Velvet, the nightclub where Min Yoongi spent his nights. Smoke curled in the air, lights cut across the room like blades, and the bass rattled the bones in my chest. But all I saw was him—Yoongi, the oldest, calm as ice, sitting in his booth with a glass in hand and danger in his smile.

I felt his eyes on me before I even reached the bar.

And just like that, the hunt began.