The dim neon lights of the downtown club flickered as the heavy bass of music vibrated through the walls. Armando stood in his private VIP lounge, overlooking the bustling crowd below. It was a controlled chaos—his clubs always were. This particular venue was a hub for his operations, where money flowed as freely as the drinks.
Alexander, his right-hand man, leaned against the bar, his sharp eyes scanning the room. Despite the casual posture, he was always on edge, ready for trouble. Beside him was Arthur, sipping whiskey and chatting with one of the managers about inventory. Cole, one of Armando’s most trusted enforcers, loomed nearby, a silent but menacing presence.
Armando glanced at his watch, signaling to Alexander. “Let’s wrap this up. I have an early meeting tomorrow.”
Alex
