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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.”
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 involv
ed 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.
