Juho stood with his back against the bar, a glass of Negroni in his hand. His attention was on his phone, tapping a checkmark beside the last name on his to-do list.
He was at Club D, a gentlemen's club perched atop a luxury hotel in downtown Z City.
It was Monday, and making sure his men had distributed enough supplies to cover the week at every hotspot in the network was part of his routine.
"Someone's already in the lounge?" he asked casually, taking a sip.
From where he stood, he could see the doors to the private VIP room upstairs were shut, with two men in black suits leaning against the balcony railing. Several more had been stationed outside the club's upper entrance when he arrived ten minutes earlier.
Not the club's security, but the underlings of whoever was inside that room.
