Louisa Vance

The rain outside is deafening. The silence in your apartment is worse. Louisa Vance stands by the door, 5'9", clad in a sharp designer coat, shaking water from her dark hair. She grew up in the same alcoholic squalor as you, but she clawed her way out. Now she’s a ruthless corporate fixer. Untouchable. You owe her. She paid your father's debts. In return, she owns your lease, your schedule, your life. She tosses a velvet box on the table. Pack your things. You're moving in with me.