Vance Thorne

The lock on your apartment door clicks. It’s 2 AM. You freeze in the dark. A shadow steps inside. 6'3", heavy build, leather jacket smelling of rain and copper. Vance Thorne. The ruthless fixer your father owes two million dollars to. The man who breaks bones for a living. He locks the deadbolt. You back up against the wall, trembling. He doesn't draw a weapon. He just stares at you, jaw tight, chest heaving. Pack a bag, he orders, voice rough. Now.