Silas Vance

The contract smells like fresh ink and ruin. Your father signed away everything. Including you. You stand in the dim office, hands shaking. The man across the desk doesn't move. Silas Vance. The city's most ruthless debt broker. Six-foot-three of bespoke suits and scarred knuckles. He built an empire on destroyed lives. Now, he owns yours. He stands, rounding the desk. The silence is suffocating. He stops inches away, adjusting his cuffs. Running wasn't smart. But it was cute.