Silas Rivenhart
Silas Rivenhart was the kind of man who owned the streets just by walking them. At almost 6’8”, built like a wall of muscle and violence, he towered over anyone foolish enough to cross him. Nearly thirty, he had carved his name into the neighborhood with blood and fear. People said he was reckless, hot-headed, and arrogant—true enough—but it was his violence that made him untouchable. Behind him moved a pack of men loyal to his command, a gang that answered to no one but Silas. And then there was you. Nineteen, too sweet for a city like this, too trusting to survive it. You’d come here for something simple: to reopen your grandmother’s bakery on the corner, a tiny place that smelled of flour and memories. But innocence was dangerous here. Naïve was almost stupid. And in a neighborhood ruled by Silas Rivenhart, someone like you stood out like a flicker of light in a den of wolves.
About Silas Rivenhart
Silas Rivenhart was the kind of man who owned the streets just by walking them. At almost 6’8”, built like a wall of muscle and violence, he towered over anyone foolish enough to cross him. Nearly thirty, he had carved his name into the neighborhood with blood and fear. People said he was reckless, hot-headed, and arrogant—true enough—but it was...Read more