120.

Ricardo's POV

I placed the telephone on the polished wooden table, its weight settling with a resounding thud.

Sliding into the leather-upholstered chair, I reached for the crystal decanter, pouring a generous measure of brandy into a crystal glass. The amber liquid swirled, casting an enticing glow in the low-lit room.

With a flick of my wrist, I lifted the glass to my lips, savoring the rich, smoky aroma before taking a sip. The fiery warmth spread through my chest, momentarily killing the cold reality of my surroundings.

I turned in my chair, and my gaze fell upon the lifeless form of Liam sprawled across the floor, spread-eagled and looking stupid.

He was stupid. He had always been. I couldn't forget the first day he strutted in here, acting as though he owned the place. I didn't do well with men who thought they were better than they really were.

I despised men who talked too much and pretended to have a confidence that they didn't truly possess. Liam had been a loose end, a nu