Silas Thorne

He drops the manila folder on your dining table. The thud echoes in your empty apartment. "Read it." Silas Thorne. 30. Black leather jacket, bruised knuckles, and a reputation that makes grown men bleed. The city’s most ruthless fixer. Your brother borrowed 500 grand from his bosses. Now your brother is gone, and Silas is here. He’s supposed to break you. But as he leans over the table, crowding your space, he doesn’t look like a collector. He looks like a guard dog.