[BL] The Omega Boss Mafia is Secretly a Pervert?!-Chapter 113: Vincent In Dominus

A Week Ago

Cold sweat slid down Vincent’s temple as he finally stepped into Dominus territory.

The area was known as the Cernov Sector, a place crowded with immigrants from the North, people like Victor.

It was divided clearly into two worlds. One side belonged to those with money and protection. The other was left to rot. Ulrich had dropped him off in the latter without hesitation.

The houses were packed so tightly together that they looked like they were clinging to each other for survival.

Pollution turned the sky into a permanent shade of grey, thick and suffocating. The air reeked of piss, smoke, and something metallic that lingered at the back of the throat.

Drunk bodies slumped against walls. Drug dealers operated openly. Men and women sold themselves in dark corners without shame or pretense.

None of it disturbed Vincent.

What unsettled him was the reality that he was about to work with Mikhail. Worse, he had to work for Ulrich as well. For now, he chose neither side. He would only be loyal to himself.

It was a dangerous game. Either he would come out as the winner of this political mafia war, or he would find a narrow opening to escape when everything collapsed back into chaos.

Cowardice, perhaps. But cowardice kept people alive.

Vincent knew himself well enough to admit that he was not particularly clever. He had been slapped by that truth more times than he cared to count. Choosing survival over pride was the smartest decision he could make.

His steps slowed, then stopped completely.

The manor stood before him.

The road leading up to it curved like a steep hill, rising above the slums as if mocking everything below.

Even from a distance, the mansion dwarfed Lucero. Where Lucero stood white and pristine, this place was black, heavy, and imposing.

It looked less like a home and more like a predator waiting patiently.

A massive black panther statue guarded the entrance. Its carved eyes seemed to follow him, threatening and merciless.

Vincent swallowed.

Mikhail had never liked him. He never allowed Vincent to use his first name. Not once.

Since Vincent was twelve, since the day he first arrived at Lucero, Mikhail had treated him with cold disdain.

Even after the Devil left, that hatred never faded. Mikhail never looked at him properly, never acknowledged him without disgust burning behind his eyes.

"The mad dog of Lucero," Vincent murmured under his breath.

It was strange, almost unbelievable, that a man like that would betray them in the end.

Before he could think further, Dominus men approached.

They were taller than him. One had scars carved across his face like permanent reminders of violence. The other had dark eyes that were completely empty, devoid of emotion or curiosity.

"We have been waiting for you," the scared man said as the gate opened automatically behind them.

"Boss is already waiting."

"Reznik?" Vincent asked, genuine surprise slipping into his voice.

They only nodded.

He was escorted inside and brought through long corridors until they reached a private room.

The interior matched the exterior perfectly. Black furniture dominated the space, accented with gold. Everything felt expensive, controlled, and suffocating.

A staff member served him tea. Warm, fragrant, and unsettlingly pleasant.

For the first time since arriving, Vincent managed to calm himself. He lifted the cup and took a careful sip, allowing the warmth to steady his nerves.

The peace did not last because the door slammed open without warning.

Heavy footsteps echoed across the room as Mikhail entered.

The air shifted instantly.

Mikhail’s face was rigid. There was no smile, not even a mocking curl of his lips, as he sat down on the couch and leaned back.

His legs spread wide in a display of dominance, his presence filling the room without effort.

"If you want to stay here," he said calmly, "you need to be useful to me."

Vincent nodded immediately. "I will do anything."

Diablo’s lips curved into a grin.

"Good," he said. "Because you will be my and my mate’s servant."

Vincent’s eyes widened. "Your mate? Lucien?" His voice faltered. "But he is in Lunox’s hands."

"And?" Mikhail’s golden eyes narrowed.

Vincent could feel the shift instantly, the air growing heavier as the Devil’s mood soured.

"Do you really think I don’t have a plan to take him back?"

Vincent swallowed hard.

Only then did he remember clearly. This man had a violent temper. One wrong word, one misstep, and Mikhail would not hesitate to blow his head apart. Literally.

Their power was no longer balanced. Vincent was completely at his mercy.

"No, that is not what I meant," he said quickly. "I know you will. They broke the agreement."

He forced himself to meet Mikhail’s gaze, his courage trembling but intact.

"You also failed to meet our condition," Vincent added quietly. "You can’t help me against the Basilisk. Can you?"

Mikhail laughed.

The sound echoed across the room, sharp and cold. In the next second, he grabbed Vincent by the collar and yanked him forward so violently that Vincent stumbled, barely keeping his footing as he slammed against the table.

"You were the one who launched an unprepared attack on Lucero’s capos without waiting for my advice," Mikhail said, his voice low and venomous.

"That was your funeral. Don’t you dare drag me into your failure."

He shoved Vincent back hard.

He fell onto the sofa with a loud thud, his breath knocked out of him as pain flared across his back.

"Our agreement is no longer valid," Diablo continued as he stood up. "You should be grateful that I even decided to help you."

He turned toward the door, then stopped.

"I don’t need you," he said without looking back. "You can leave now or you can follow my orders. The decision is in your hands."

Then he was gone.

Vincent sat there, his heart pounding so violently it felt like it would burst from his chest.

He had never experienced an alpha aura like that before. It crushed him, threatened to make him kneel with nothing but intent.

"Fuck," he whispered, clenching his hands. "I should have just run."

He shook his head slowly.

"No," he muttered. "I need to be stronger than this. I need to prove myself." His teeth sank into his lower lip.

---

A finger flicked the queen pawn, sending it rolling across the chessboard. The sound was followed by a woman’s groan and a long, irritated sigh.

"Again. I lost. Again."

She shook her head and ran a hand through her blonde hair.

"Can you just let me win one time?"

"What is the fun in winning out of pity?" the man replied lazily as he reached for his glass of whisky and took a slow sip. "I would rather lose pathetically."

"Not everyone has your strange sense of chivalry," she said, crossing her arms and leaning closer. "Some people just want to win."

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

"Anyway, things out there are getting interesting. Don’t you want to take advantage of it and make some money?"

"Why should we bother with something that resembles high school drama?" he replied flatly. "I would rather you focus on your job, Laura."

She sighed. "You are so boring. This kind of chaos happens once every ten years. Two groups fighting over one omega. Don’t tell me you don’t find it interesting, Damien?"

"Indeed," he answered, utterly uninterested.

Laura laughed softly as she stood up. "Once again, you pretend to be a selfless man, even when you could have him for yourself."

She shook her head and turned to leave.

"Don’t turn this into another long list of your regret," she added lightly.

The room fell silent after she left.

Damien remained by the window, his gaze fixed on the city below.

"Selfless, huh?" he murmured.