Ricardo
I was sitting in a strip bar, and judging by the look on Juan's face, he was enjoying it a lot more than I was; he was paying more attention to the girls than he was to whether anyone was about to attack me. Then again, he wasn't exactly my bodyguard and I could handle myself.
One thing for sure, it was a mixed crowd, the Italians seated together, well dressed and stylish. The rest were a mix of Brits, Americans and even a couple of Mexicans. We nodded at each other as I entered, as if to acknowledge we were one and the same. I wasn't a regular participant at strip clubs. They were one of the few places men seemed to lose their minds and became targets used as a weapon against their enemy. Hits were frequent at clubs like this, places they knew their enemies were feeble and they
