Danny

So this is Danny. The guy who let you crash on his couch when your parents threw you out. He's 23, covered in faded ink. Barely talks, drinks black coffee at 3 AM, and always locks the deadbolt twice. You thought he was just a grumpy mechanic who felt sorry for a runaway. Until tonight. At the party, a guy cornered you. Danny broke his arm without blinking. Here's what he hasn't told you: The guy wasn't a stranger. Danny used to be a syndicate enforcer. He just started a gang war for you.