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| Taking a Risk | Started by: Marietta on Aug 05, '08 19:55 |
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With one last smirk towards the flashing lights and squealing, high pitched sounds of the slot machines, Marietta Rossi pushed open the tinted glass door of the casino and stepped out into the night and onto the streets of Las Vegas. The door slowly slid closed behind her, blocking out the sound of the gleeful winners and sobbing losers from within the building and the heavily illuminated room. She was alone, her green eyes traveling the length of the road and taking in the business entrances dimly lit by the tall street lamps. Rumblings of distant traffic and her own high heels clicking against the paved sidewalk were the only company she had as she slowly stepped away from the doors of the brickwork building. A smile slowly crept across her face as she tilted her head backwards to stare at the star speckled sky. This is the best, no, most absolutely perfect night of my life. Her adrenaline was pumping throughout her body, causing pulsing jolts of energy to fill her chest and stomach. This was what it was like to ride a winning high. Marietta tossed her blonde hair back off her shoulders, clutching her handbag between her hands tightly until her knuckles went white from the effort. The whole world was her oyster, and she had just made that oyster her bitch through playing blackjack. Confidently strutting, she began to make the short trek back to her hotel. She would order room service, perhaps a bottle of champagne. Celebrations were definitely in order. The woman paused mid-step, turning slowly on the spot and affixing her gaze towards a dark alley next to her. Tiny hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight and at the alert. She had sworn she heard someone, or something down the darkened pathway. "God damn no good..." There it was again! Her imagination hadn't been playing tricks on her. For a moment she hated herself; Mari was never the type of woman to walk away from potential danger. Curiosity always won the better of her, and with a deep breath and large gulp she pried her fingers off of her handbag. Pulling out a tiny pistol she narrowed her eyes and navigated her way through the dirt and muck. Marietta passed overturned garbage cans and empty alcohol crates before coming across a man, slumped against a dumpster. His eyes were closed and at first glance one could mistake him for dead, but on a second look it was clear his lips were moving. "My life is fuckin' over..." The muttering sounds she had heard initially were coming from him. Uh... excuse me? Her high pitched tones were carried across the cramped space, echoing lightly as they bounced back and forth between the two buildings. Holding her breath and keeping her gun firmly pointed towards the man, she watched as he stirred, opening first one eye then the other and staring up at her. "Whaddaya want?" he said grumpily, eyeing the gun and pulling a discarded fedora from off the ground beside him before placing it on his head. Opening her mouth to respond he suddenly snorted in irritated laughter, shaking his dark-haired head as his eyes surveyed her face. "So it's you." So it's me? Immediately her chest constricted in fear. Marietta was sure she had never seen this man before in her life and yet here he was, using the metal garbage bin to pull himself to his feet and tower over her. God damn he was tall. A hint of fear began to make her heart beat double, and her grip tightened upon her minute pistol. "Yeah, the cute blonde who was cleaning up at blackjack." Oh. 'Thank God,' the woman thought to herself, a tingling of relief spreading throughout her body. Yeah, that was me. The name's Marietta. She couldn't help herself. A grin crept across her face, making her look and feel like a smug Cheshire cat as she remembered the amount of money she had walked away from the casino with just moments ago. The smile seemed to irritate the man who turned around and punched the dumpster with a loud shout. Another echo flew across the alley; the sound of fist upon metal made Marietta feel as if the entire sky was falling in upon them. Whoa, hey, what the hell? Don't do that! It's late, you'll wake someone up! Glaring towards her the man turned around and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark blue suit jacket. "Not like it matters. My life is over anyway." Immediately she felt her upper lip curl in distaste. A whiner. How she hated people who always thought and assumed the worst. It honestly can't be as bad as that... whatever it is. Another snort of laughter escaped the man's nose. He turned his back on her and muttered something inaudibly before kicking at the dumpster and making the same loud, vibrating sound once more. "You wouldn't understand," he called over his shoulder, once the noise had calmed down. Inwardly Marietta rolled her eyes. 'Give me patience,' she thought, taking a step towards the man. She wanted to be back in her hotel room, tossing her money about her bed and rolling around in it like a drunken tycoon. Yet no. There was always that nagging sense of duty that resided within her. The one that told her to help, no matter where, when or what with. Really, it didn't matter if she was starting to shiver from cold, her bare legs getting goose bumps beneath her little black dress and her arms shaking as a wind picked up about her. Her mind began to take on a bit of a bitter tone when it was speaking to her. 'This is stupid.' I bet if you just told me I'd understand a hell of a lot more than you think I would. Turning around quickly he closed the gap of distance between the two of them. His brown eyes were blazing with anger and there were lines of worry etched deep into his face. Shifting uncomfortably she took a half-step backwards. She could feel the heat of his body and for a moment the sense of fear washed over her once more. Marietta took a shallow breath and looked upwards to meet his eyes. 'I hate myself,' she thought before parting her lips slightly into a smile. Well? You going to tell me or what? The man stared at her for a beat of a moment more before sighing heavily and casting his eyes downward. "I'm John," he said, and she nodded her head politely, silently urging him to continue. Her heart was still beating in marathon speeds, afraid of the deep-seeded aggression that seemed to reside within this stranger. "I was sent here on business, right? All expenses paid. The deal was to make a drug- uh, well, to meet some people and get a bit of money for giving them something. My job was just to get it done and bring the profit back to the Don- er, the big Boss." He gave a weak smile and Marietta raised an eyebrow back, noting the words he was stumbling over in his speech. John took a deep breath before continuing: "I thought if I took that profit to the casino, I could double it and keep a bit for myself, yaknow? Let's just say things didn't go down well and I ended up losing more than what I came with." A silence washed over the pair of them as a breeze picked up and gently drifted down the alleyway towards them. Her body shivered involuntarily once more, and wrapping her arms around herself Marietta took a few steps and leaned against the garbage dumpster. Basically you screwed over your family... royally. John's eyes widened in surprise and he spluttered a bit as he looked at her. "Wait, you mean... you?!" Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I don't know about these things, she said with a small laugh. The quiet grew between them once more. So how much are you down? Marietta asked, looking at him. Immediately she saw his face fall and he pulled his hands out of his suit jacket pockets and began picking at his pants. "About... two hundred k." Marietta let out a low whistle and pulled her arms closer to her body, crossing them across her chest. Damn. Hate to say it but you're pretty much screwed. "You're telling me! I mean, I just thought if I could double the money I'd be golden. 'The bigger the risk, the bigger the reward' as they say." Shaking her head she cast her eyes downwards to stare at her high heels. She was standing in a puddle of ick, and with a look of disgust crossing her face she stepped out of it and resumed leaning against the dumpster in a new location. You didn't account for luck. "What's that?" John asked, stepping closer and taking a similar stance next to her against the garbage can. Luck! she said louder. 'The bigger the risk, the bigger the reward', sure, but that all depends on luck. John studied her for a moment with a blank stare. Giving a loud, exaggerated sigh Marietta rolled her eyes. Everything you do is based on the probability of chance. Nothing, absolutely nothing about this life is a guarantee. Sometimes you are successful, sometimes you fail. It's all based on luck. "But the bigger the risk..." Ugh, yes, I get that. God damn, look at it this way. You wouldn't treat your life like a game of blackjack, would you? "Whaddaya mean?" You wouldn't hinge your biggest decisions on the adage 'the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward', would you? Think of every big moment in your life. Did you just throw all caution to the wind and go for... 'it'? "Well, no, but..." Exactly. But what you did, John, was you just played a game of risk with your life. Most people take the time to weigh their options, play the odds. I think a normal person tends to play life on the safe side, only betting a few chips here, a few chips there, and once in awhile taking a safe risk to reap the reward. Knowing the downside should you fail, you took the risk anyway. 'Bigger the reward' is the stupidest trap to fall victim to. Marietta shakes her head and takes a deep breath, staring at the darkened windows lining the alley and pausing in thought. Plus you've got to take into consideration that in some 'risks' a huge amount of effort and work go into achieving the favorable end results. That, and sometimes the pay-out may be great on the surface, but bring about a whole new set of decisions to make and risks to take. The man continued to stare at her as if she was speaking a foreign tongue. "So what you're saying is... yeah I got nothing." What I'm saying is, Marietta continued in a frustrated tone, say the dealer is showing an eight. Chances are, he's got a face card, putting him at eighteen. You've got yourself a ten and a six, putting you at sixteen. Are you likely to hit? Of course, the bigger the risk the bigger the reward if you land a three, four or five, but what are the chances you're even going to get lucky enough to make it big? Apply that to your life. Are you going to take a job that you know you're almost certainly going to fail, just because the end outcome might be better than the other, easier jobs you are accustomed to? Hell, apply that to any aspect of this thing of ours. Luck pretty much runs the show around these parts. In your case, instead of just doing your job right and getting the recognition from the Don, you decided to take a risk for a bigger reward. Did it ever occur to you that maybe the Don was planning on giving you a small cut anyway for your efforts? John dumbly shook his head no, and Marietta gave a small sympathetic smile. Instead you risked it all for that payout, and lost it all. Now potentially your life is on the line. The odds were seriously against you from the beginning. This... this was a risk you shouldn't have risked taking. For the final time that night a silence settled in around the pair, blanketing them in from the world outside the alleyway. John scrunched his face up and curled his hands into fists once more. Pressing them to his face he let out a small roar of anger. Tearing his fists away from his face he slammed his elbow into the dumpster, causing it to move backwards a few inches. Marietta slowly lost her balance and stumbled a bit before straightening up once more. "Shit. You're right. The odds were against me. I fucked up." Marietta placed a hand on the man's shoulder gently and shook him a bit. Hey, we all make mistakes. Sometimes we just have to learn the hard way. "My hard way is going to end up in cement shoes and a nighttime swim in a river." A sad sort of smile crossed the woman's face and before she truly knew what she was doing, her mind was made up. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she slowly pulled her handbag up to eye level and opened it. Well, lucky for you, I just so happened to sit with Lady Luck tonight at the tables. Here. Reaching into her handbag she pulled out several large stacks of cash and held them out towards John. Two hundred k. Just don't go spend it all over again on stupid casino games. Stuttering, John put up his hands in protest. "I ca- I couldn't. That's your money!" Yeah, and I'm just that damn nice. Take it. I hate to see people die over something so small and stupid. So I won't have the cash to buy more shoes. This is definitely a 'risk' I'm willing to take. Shoving the money into his hands she closed her purse with a 'click' and started to back away. Just remember... weigh your odds. On everything. You'll live longer. Giving a small wave and a wink, Marietta turned on her heel and began to leave the alleyway. A loud shout from behind her made her pause for a moment, casting a glance over her shoulder. "Thanks. Really," came John's voice." Don't even mention it, she called back, continuing off of the dirt path and making her way onto the solid cement once more. There wouldn't be room service, champagne and rolling around in her money like a drunken hooker, but somehow Miss Rossi still felt the rush of excitement as she traveled back to her hotel. The world was truly her oyster, and she would make blackjack her mistress on another night. |
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Marietta what a delightful read! I hope more of our community will read this and learn from your wisdom. Well this case it had a happy ending but i have heard stories where "John" is not so lucky! If only some of our fellow Mafioso's took their time and actually weighed up the risks against the outcome (which is normally a few seconds of joy) perhaps we would have a lot more older and wiser Mafioso's..?? |
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| Reply by: Sandman at Aug 06, '08 06:06 | |
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