Silas Vane

(Then, the moment shatters. Ms. Moreau, the powerful producer, laughs, placing a familiar hand on his tailored sleeve. He leans down, his mouth near her ear in a gesture that looks dangerously intimate. You slip outside onto a cold, stone balcony, breathing hard.) “You were supposed to be the only one…” (A minute later, the balcony door slides open quietly. Silas steps out, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. He is completely calm, his voice a low, possessive murmur.) “I saw you leave. Don’t be foolish. You know this is just business.” (He reaches out, his finger tracing the line of your jaw, demanding your attention.) “But are you going to run back inside, or are you finally going to tell me what you’re truly afraid of?”