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.”
I frown. I can’t imagine Angelo would target Gigi if John messed up, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t do something else to piss off the mob boss.
The possibilities are endless on the ways John could’ve gotten Gigi killed.
“Wasn’t this something Frank told the detectives since he believed John was guilty? They didn’t look into this?”
He huffs out a dry laugh. “You ever try to pin a crime on a mob boss? Not that easy, kiddo. They got all kinds of people in their pockets. It was dropped due to a lack of evidence. If you want my opinion, I think John got a taste for the danger, and whether it’s because Gigi was having an affair or because she wanted to leave John, he snapped and killed her.”
Jesus Christ.
The possibility of that sounds… likely. Very likely.
“I just have one last question,” I say, fiddling with my dress. I’m creasing it, but I don’t care. “What made Frank turn on John? They were best friends. So why not give John the benefit of the doubt instead of trying so hard to pin the blame on him?”
He takes a moment to puff on his cigar. “My guess is that he saw John for what he was, and chose to try and bring Gigi justice, even if that meant putting away his best friend. With his drinking, temper, and then getting involved in the mafia, I think it’s safe to say he was becoming a violent man. Would explain why my father was so goddamn torn up over everything after John was proven innocent.”
I frown and can’t help but feel sympathy for Mark’s father. He got caught up in a pretty toxic vortex of cheating, lies, and crime between Gigi and John. I imagine that would’ve taken a toll on anyone.
“Anyway, I think that’s enough of that for tonight. There’s an annual charity we’re hosting in a few weeks. I could always expect to see you there and speak on it more then,” Mark says, his eyes sparkling.
“I’ll check my schedule,” Zade cuts in, relieving me of having to make any commitments. In most cases, I wouldn’t appreciate the implication that he’s the boss, but right now, I’m nothing but grateful for it.
“Of course,” Mark concedes, his smile a tad more strained than before.
Mark drones on about boring work-related stuff for another hour, drinking his alcohol, puffing on his expensive cigar, and increasingly becoming more drunk.
I barely listen, too lost in thought about everything I just learned. And maybe a little heartbroken that Gigi might’ve been murdered by her own husband. Someone she did love and trust, despite her affair.
Even when you’re married to someone for over a decade, it’s possible to never really know them and what they’re capable of.
I glance at Zade. I’m learning exactly what he’s capable of, and it’s fucking terrifying.
Zade is fucking terrifying.
It’s impossible not to consider the possibility that if I ever were to fall in love with him, that he could turn on me too.
For the fourth time, Mark’s phone rings in the middle of the conversation. Every time, his face darkens when he looks to see who’s calling.
“Everything okay?” Zade asks, noting his odd behavior.
Mark glances at Zade, forcing a strained smile before attempting to pocket his phone.
Drunkenly, he drops it, and it’s almost painful watching him pick it up. I can hear his bones creaking from here.
As alcohol takes control over his body, all I can focus on is how it seems to age him further.
The liver spots on his balding head and darkened hands, and the bags underneath his eyes have formed a few more wrinkles.
He’s an ugly man. On the inside and out. And it’s a wonder how his depravity has sunk so low when the man has everything most people could want in life. Money, power, influence, and a beautiful wife that might’ve loved him if he weren’t so evil.
“Yeah, a few of my colleagues are freakin’ out over some ssstupid leaked video,” Mark slurs, finally getting the phone in his pocket.
Zade stiffens beside me, though his face stays unreadable.
“Leaked video?”
Mark flaps a hand, attempting to gloss over what he confessed. I glance at Zade, noting the subtle tic in his jaw.
“Yeah, but I keep telling them they don’t have to worry ’bout it. Our So-ssocciety will take care of it, and no one will be none the wissser.”
I open my mouth, ready to pry, but a quick warning glance from Zade has me snapping my mouth shut.
He must be talking about the videos from the rituals.
“I’m sure they’re taking the necessary steps to make sure the video is handled, alongside whoever leaked it,” Zade assures casually, swirling his drink as if there’s spices resting in the bottom of the cup.
“Are they ever!” Mark bursts out, slapping his hand obnoxiously on his ornate desk. “The video is handled, it’sh finding the pershon who leaked the videos that’s th-the problem. They’ve been interrogating an-and watching our every move for months now!”
I didn’t think it was possible for Mark’s face to turn any redder, but he’s starting to look like the Kool-Aid Man.
“Well, whatever the case, I’m sure it’ll be handled soon.”
Zade is careful with his words and is deliberately refusing to pry and dig out extra information. I’m not sure if whatever Mark is saying is sufficient, or if Zade is in for the long haul.
“Yeah, sure,” Mark mutters. “Guessh the bright shide is that nothing can happen to us. I-If one of us goes misshing and the Society ss-suspects foul play, guess what? They will up and relocate within hourss.” Under his breath he mutters, “we all will know who to blame anyway.” I can’t hear the rest of what he says, but for a second, it sounds like he says
Z.
A pregnant pause passes, and it seems like Zade has to collect himself. Mark is too wasted to be mindful of the word vomit spewing from his mouth.
I don’t know what the fuck this Society is, but they obviously can’t trust an inebriated Mark and his big mouth. He’s spilling all kinds of shit, and though I can’t make sense of most of it-Zade clearly can.
“Good thing, wouldn’t want anything to happen to my new friend,” Zade teases smoothly, his face morphing into a relaxed state as he lies to Mark’s face.
Mark believes it, laughing alongside Zade and spending the next ten minutes telling my shadow how grateful he is that they met.
I nearly snort from the irony. Zade is both Mark’s judge and executioner, and he’s too stupid to see it.
Zade sips at the amber liquid in his cup throughout the whole mushy tirade, but by the time we’re rising to leave, it looks like he barely consumed an ounce of it.
“Thank you so much for having me,” I say graciously. Mark cups my hand in both of his, and a cold feeling embeds beneath my flesh, digging deep like a parasite. His hands are sweaty, but all I can feel is ice.
This man… he’s evil. It feels like touching a corpse.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.