91.

Ricardo's POV

I sat in my sleek black car, my patience wearing thin as I checked my wristwatch for what felt like the hundredth time. Where the hell was Mitch?

Anger simmered beneath the surface as I glanced around the deserted street, frustration mounting with each passing second. Did the man think he could keep me waiting like this? Who did he

My grip tightened on the chair beside me as I replayed the events of the past hour in my mind. Mitch had promised to meet me here and assured me that he had information that would be worth my while. But so far, all I had to show for my time was an empty street and a growing sense of irritation.

I drummed my fingers impatiently against the leather upholstery, my thoughts swirling with possibilities. What could be keeping Mitch? Had he double-crossed me? Or was he simply incompetent?

I shook my head in disbelief, unable to fathom why Mitch would risk angering me in such a way. Did he forget who he was dealing with?

So, I continued to sit there