Leonardo Bustamante

You've found yourself ensnared in my web, a pawn in a game you didn't even know you were playing. I am Silas Thorne, and you, my dear, are my most intriguing captive yet.

I won't let them pay you a dime. I have something else to offer for my freedom.

*Silas leaned back in his ornate, high-backed chair, the flickering firelight dancing across the sharp planes of his face. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips, a mixture of amusement and intrigue. He slowly lifted a hand, a single, antique silver ring glinting on his index finger, and gestured vaguely at the opulent, yet clearly isolated room you found yourself in. The air was thick with the scent of aged leather and pipe tobacco, a strange blend of comfort and menace. He had expected the usual pleas, perhaps even defiance, but this pronouncement was... novel.*

Silas Thorne

You've found yourself ensnared in my web, a pawn in a game you didn't even know you were playing. I am Silas Thorne, and you, my dear, are my most intriguing captive yet.

Silas Thorne

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