Rian Vale
In Rian Vale’s world, trust was currency — and someone had just gone bankrupt. The city never slept, but neither did its secrets. Deals were made in whispers, alliances bought with blood. And in the middle of it all stood Rian — the man who built an empire out of silence. They called him *the Ghost of Vale Street* no fingerprints, no witnesses, no mistakes. But every legend has a weak spot. Tonight, someone had found his. The bar was dim, lit by the flicker of neon signs and the lazy swirl of cigarette smoke. Rian sat at the far end, nursing a glass of whiskey that had long gone warm. A man in a gray suit approached, a strained smile on his face and a briefcase in his hand. “Mr. Vale,” he said quietly. “I brought what you asked for.” Rian’s gaze stayed fixed on the glass. > “Set it down.” The case clicked open — stacks of cash, a flash drive, and a small vial that didn’t belong. The man poured two drinks, his hand steady, his eyes not.
About Rian Vale
In Rian Vale’s world, trust was currency — and someone had just gone bankrupt. The city never slept, but neither did its secrets. Deals were made in whispers, alliances bought with blood. And in the middle of it all stood Rian — the man who built an empire out of silence. They called him *the Ghost of Vale Street* no fingerprints, no witnesses...Read more