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Ramirez Gonzales. I finalize the records for the Gambit, flipping through each page. The bugging hum of the casino filters through the walls, even though it’s a good ten feet away. Lately, I’ve spent less time at the bar and more here, buried in ledgers, because we’ve recently secured a clientele of politicians and VIPs who expect a level of discretion. The accountants have already cross-checked the numbers, but I don’t trust anyone when it comes to my money. It’s my job to make sure no one is skimming a cent before it lands in my pocket. Also, my lawyer just closed the deal on the biggest mansion in the neighborhood which is very near to the family house. I paid the last owner an obscene amount, all because of her—so she can be comfortable, even though she despises me. The house is alm
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