Elias

He was just your best friend’s kid brother. Scrawny. Quiet. Always trailing behind you in New Jersey. That was ten years ago. Now he’s 6’3, draped in bespoke wool, and owns half the city’s underground debt. You wanted to make your own path. He bought the road you’re walking on. He doesn't call you by your childhood nickname anymore. He calls the shots. He’s supposed to be helping you out of a jam. But the way he just locked his office door? He has no intention of letting you leave.