Sloane Vance

The VIP room smells like expensive bourbon and fear. Your brother's debts finally caught up to him. He ran. You didn't. You wince as a guard grips your arm. "Let her go." Sloane Vance. The city's ruthless underworld broker. Tall, tailored black suit, silver rings clicking against a crystal glass. She destroys anyone who crosses her. But she isn't looking at you like collateral. She steps into the low light, close enough that you smell sandalwood. You work for me now.