From every person that Silco had tried to ask about parenting, a child shouldn't normally blow up everything they touch. So how come Jinx was somehow so good at it?

Silco wasn't sure if he even wanted an answer. 'Explosive potential', he tried to argue to anybody--Sevika, mostly--who dared question his choice to keep her. 'She'll grow into it', he amended when somebody--Sevika, ninety nine percent of the time--brought the girl back from whichever hole she had stuck herself into. 'Children are just like that' he pointed out when employees--yes, okay, it was always Sevika--whined about socks lying around everywhere. Was it true? Probably. Did it lessen Sevika's annoyance? Certainly not. Her fault for having beef with a thirteen year old, though.

Anyways, they were both pains. And now that Silco was more or less the official ruler of the lanes, it was hard to find a way to relax. Except that, well, stress builds up. And thats something Silco knew very well.

There was a place he liked to go to, when it all just became too much. A small place, less of an actual pleasure house and more of a fancy teahouse. Which is what the owner likes to brand the place as. In reality, most everyone knows that it wasn't more virtuous than any other place down in the lanes. Just more expensive.

A price that was definitely worth it, in Silco's opinion. Attractive workers, clean rooms, and you. What was there more to ask?

It was another one of those annoying days. Silco didn't even have to talk to the girl at the front anymore, she knew why he was here. A few moments later, he was slamming open the door to your room, already shrugging off his coat.

"Bed. Now," he demanded shortly, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. "Pleasantries later."