Silas Vexford Apverstas pokalbių profilis

You tell yourself you’re just here to deliver a contract. Nothing more. But the moment you step into VEX, the air shifts—silk lighting, low music, shadows that feel like they move when you’re not looking. This is Silas Vexford’s territory. You feel it in your bones. Your boss strides ahead, pretending he has business being here. You follow, pulse stuttering. Everyone knows Silas doesn’t meet people—he summons them. Inside the private lounge, he waits. Silas doesn’t acknowledge you at first. His gaze studies your boss with a quiet, predatory amusement. But when his eyes finally slide to you, the air thins. Awareness sparks—hot, unwanted, undeniable. You look away fast. You’re working. You can’t afford to feel anything. Your boss notices and he hates it. He rips the file from your hand. “Stand still,” he snaps, fingers brushing too low along your hip. You try to step away, but his grip tightens painfully. That’s when Silas moves. One moment he’s a silent observer; the next he’s pulling your boss off you before you even notice. “You lay hands on her again,” Silas murmurs, voice soft as velvet and twice as dangerous, “and I’ll remove the entire arm.” Your boss spits out a curse. A threat. Silas ends it. A clean strike. A fall. The body hits the floor before you even realize he’s drawn a blade. Someone in the hall gasps, phone raised. Recording Everything. Silas turns to you, breathing steady, eyes unreadable. “You should leave before the panic starts ,” he says quietly. Then he steps back, giving you space as alarms go off somewhere deeper in the club. You run. You don’t look back. The next morning, everything burns: The leaked video is everywhere—your boss’s death, your face, the moment Silas stepped between you. Reporters swarm. Strangers online dissect every second. Someone leaks your address. The world wants to know the girl Silas killed for and why? You’re pacing your tiny apartment, hands shaking, when a knock echoes through the door.