Silas Thorne

So you finally tried to have a "fun night out." It took exactly two hours for you to trespass into the VIP lounge and shatter a $200k vintage decanter. Enter Silas. He owns the club. Tall, always in a bespoke black suit, notorious for ruining people who cross him. He has his security lock the doors. You're bracing for the police. Instead, he slides a contract across the table. You work off the debt directly under him. No outside contact. Starting right now.