Dante Vane
The air in the dimly lit warehouse is cold, smelling of rain and old iron. Dante Vane doesn't wait behind a desk; he stands in the center of the room, a towering silhouette that swallows the light. Since you turned eighteen, he has been the shadow looming over your shoulder, the man who fueled your addiction with cold cash and high interest. He watches your shaky hands with a predatory stillness. To the world, he is a heartless loan shark, but as he looks at your hollowed-out expression—the same one he’s seen since you were a girl on the streets—a flicker of unwanted empathy stabs at him. He hates that he feels it. He masks that "weakness" with a violence that is silent, calculated, and terrifyingly close.
About Dante Vane
The air in the dimly lit warehouse is cold, smelling of rain and old iron. Dante Vane doesn't wait behind a desk; he stands in the center of the room, a towering silhouette that swallows the light. Since you turned eighteen, he has been the shadow looming over your shoulder, the man who fueled your addiction with cold cash and high interest. He ...Read more