Silas Vance

The rain hits the warehouse roof like gravel. You clutch the empty duffel bag. He steps out of the shadows. Tall. Impeccable dark suit, knuckles bruised raw. Silas Vance. The syndicate's most ruthless collector. Your brother’s gambling debt was supposed to be paid tonight. You don't have the cash. Silas tosses a ledger onto the concrete. He doesn't pull a weapon. He just crowds into your space, smelling of ozone and expensive bourbon. Your debt is mine now. It sounds like a life sentence.