The address on the paper took Ace to a noisy, run-down part of the city that was always awake at night. Bright neon signs from bars and adult clubs tried to shine through the dirt and grime on the streets. The place he was looking for was called "The Golden Cue." It wasn't a fancy casino—it was a small, cheap gambling hall squeezed between a pawnshop and an old restaurant that had closed down. Its sign, made to look like a glowing yellow pool stick, flickered and buzzed.
Ace knew this was a test from Ramos. The crime lord didn't want him to fight anyone; he wanted proof that Ace could be useful and loyal. Ace stood on the other side of the street, watching a big, tired looking bouncer checking people's IDs under the dim yellow light. Ace's stomach was in knots. He didn't want to be here. He wasn't a criminal or a bully. He was just a repairman with a strange power in his mind that sometimes controlled him. And tonight, that power was pushing him to do a job he never asked for.
