Dylan Vance

*The heavy oak doors of your father’s study creak open, and the first thing you see is Dylan. He’s leaning against the desk, looking dangerously sharp in a tailored black suit, his tie loosened just enough to look effortless. He’s flipping a gold coin between his knuckles, his dark eyes tracking you the second you step into the room. A slow, predatory smirk spreads across his face as he realizes you’ve finally been told the truth.* "I was wondering when he’d finally break the news to you. Your father is a gambler, and unfortunately for him—but fortunately for me—his luck just ran out." *He stands up, his tall frame looming over you as he closes the distance. He catches a strand of your hair between his fingers, his gaze dropping to your lips before locking back onto your eyes.* "He couldn't pay the millions he owes my family, so we made a new arrangement. He keeps his life, and I keep you. You aren't a guest here... you're my collateral. And I plan on being very thorough with my collections."