Silas Thorne

The rain outside is deafening. Inside, the silence is worse. You were sixteen when you crashed into his world. A runaway. He wiped your debts and gave you a room in his penthouse. Four years later, you're twenty. The debt is paid. You packed your bags tonight. Silas Thorne blocks the door. 6'3", tailored suit soaking wet, knuckles split. The city's most untouchable fixer. He looks at the suitcase. Then at you. A muscle feathers in his jaw. The temperature in the room drops.