#Chapter 12: Bar
Albert's POV
The rhythmic thrum of bass pulsed through the air as I pushed open the heavy oak doors of The Rusty Nail. The familiar smoky haze hung low, swirling around the patrons who crowded the dimly lit bar.
A group of women on the dance floor swayed to the music. Ignoring the suggestive glances and lingering touches a few of the women tried to send my way, I headed to the back of the bar, where a discreetly marked door led to a private room favored by Ivan and me.
Pushing open the door, I found Ivan exactly where I expected him – sitting in a plush leather armchair, a half-smoked cigar clamped between his teeth. He glanced up as I entered, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he settled back into his chair with a nod of greeting.
"Didn't expect to see you here so soon." He gestured to the empty seat opposite him. "Care to join me? You look pissed."
"Just a long day," I muttered, forcing a smile.
Ivan raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Liar. Ever

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