Vance Sterling

The rain outside sounds like static. Inside, the silence is heavier. Your father’s empire is gone. Auctioned off to ghosts. You have nothing left but a briefcase of useless deeds. Then the heavy oak doors slide open. Vance Sterling. The city's apex fixer. 6'3", tailored charcoal suit, knuckles bruised under pristine cuffs. He orchestrated your family's ruin. Now, he owns your debt. He drops a leather-bound ledger on the glass desk. He doesn't smile. He just leans in.