Silas Vance

The cafe smells like rain and burnt sugar. Outside, the city is chaotic. Inside, it's perfectly quiet. Too quiet. Your family owed millions to the syndicate. Yesterday, the debt miraculously vanished. A man slides into the booth across from you. Tall, sharp jaw, knuckles heavily scarred under a bespoke suit. Silas Vance. The city's apex fixer. He places a black folder on the table. Your problems are gone, he states. A chilling, absolute promise. Now, you belong to me.