man for the mafia says those words, that can mean a number of things. Maybe he killed the people instead and gained Gigi enemies by doing so. Jesus, it really is like time repeating itself if that’s the case. “Then how did he pay off the men he owed?” Mark finishes off his drink before refilling. “You know, now that I think about it, I remember overhearing a particular conversation. My father told him that he needed to quit with the gambling, and John wasn’t listening. He said one of the men he owed was Angelo Salvatore—who was a pretty notorious crime lord back in the day. But turns out Angelo’s righthand man, Ronaldo, convinced Angelo to hire John instead.” It takes monumental effort to keep my eyes from blowing wide. John was working for Ronaldo’s boss? There’s no way Gigi knew about it. I imagine that’s something she would’ve mentioned if she had. “Why would he hire him? Why not just kill him?” “He almost did,” Mark counters. He then opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a cigar. Lighting the tobacco, Mark leans back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath his weight. A woodsy scent fills the air as he puffs. “ll never forget the way my father ripped into him over it. Calling him names and telling him he could’ve gotten himself killed. John said Angelo had a gun to his head, ready to pull the trigger before Ronaldo stepped in. Said the man asked Angelo to consider hiring John to pay off his debts by working for him instead.” Mark sucks in deeply and then coughs a few times as smoke puffs from his mouth. “Guess it worked.” So, Ronaldo saved John’s life. I don’t need to have been there to know he only did it for Gigi. But it’s not like he could’ve told Angelo his real reasons for bartering John’s life, which means John had to have been useful in some form— that would’ve been too risky of a move otherwise, and possibly could’ve gotten him killed if John wasn’t valuable. “Do you know what he did for Angelo?” Mark’s brows raise, and a small smile curls his lips. Almost as if he finds my question amusing. “John was an accountant back then. Real good with numbers. Pretty sure he helped Angelo launder his money, but that was never proven.” I blink. “If he was so good with numbers and money, why did he suck so bad with gambling? The man could’ ve just counted cards or something.” Mark bursts out into laughter, his plump stomach shaking. “You’re a funny girl, Addie. You’re right, I think if John was in his right mind when he played, he might’ve won big. But he couldn’t stop with the drinking. Angelo told John he didn’t give a shit what he did in his free time, but if he showed up to work drunk and fucked with his money, he was a dead man.”