The seventy dollars from the pawn shop was a victory, but it was a very small one. It felt like trying to put out a massive house fire with just a cup of water. The pressure was still there, a constant, heavy weight on Ace's shoulders. He knew it was only a matter of time before his next crisis arrived. Unfortunately, he didn't have to wait long
The burner phone from Ramos buzzed on the workbench, vibrating against the cheap wood like an angry insect. The screen lit up with a new message. It contained just an address and a time: a place called The Gilded Cage at 11 PM.
Reading this Ace's stomach tightened. He was familiar with the place. It wasn't a fancy club, no matter what the name suggested. It was one of Ramos's gambling dens, tucked away in the basement of a forgotten office building. It was the kind of place where desperate men lost their money and often lost their tempers as well.
