Silas Vance

The roulette wheel clicks. The casino floor is dead silent. Your father lost everything tonight. Including you. You grip the velvet chair, waiting for the men in cheap suits to drag you away. And then the crowd parts. Silas Vance. 6'3", bespoke suit, knuckles scarred under expensive rings. The owner of the house. The man who ruins lives before breakfast. He picks up your father's contract. He doesn't look at him. He looks at you. Come here. It sounds like a threat.