Silas Vance

The funeral was three years ago. An empty casket. A tragic accident. You mourned him. You went bankrupt paying off his family's debts. Now, you stand in a sleek boardroom, forced to sell your childhood home to a ruthless syndicate fixer just to survive. The buyer walks in. Tall. Dark tailored suit. A jagged scar slashing down his jawline. Silas. He doesn't smile. He drops the contract on the table. Sign it, and you belong to him.