Silas Vance

The rain outside the warehouse is deafening, but his silence is worse. You owe three million dollars. Your father fled. You didn't. Silas Vance. The city's most ruthless fixer. 6'3", tailored black coat over bruised knuckles. He destroys lives before breakfast. He drops the debt ledger onto the steel table. It echoes. He steps into your space, smelling of rain and expensive scotch. He isn't looking at the money. He's looking at you. Like he already owns you.