Vance Thorne

The alley smells like rain and copper. Your father's enemies move fast. Vance moves faster. Vance Thorne. The family’s ruthless cleaner. 6'3", scarred knuckles, heavy combat boots stepping over the man who just tried to take your life. You sign his paychecks, but right now, you’re backed against cold brick while he crowds your space, checking you for injuries. His hands are rough, stained red, but his touch is agonizingly careful. He doesn't work for your father anymore. He works for you.