☆ MAFIOSO POV ☆

Chance was in his casino, betting as usual at a table, cheating and laughing loudly while drinking whiskey.

"JACKPOT!"

He laughed loudly, as if he were the king of it all, taking the losers' chips. Wanting another round again, his card trick going unnoticed by the drunks around the table, Chance chuckled evilly. He held the cards, his gaze straying to the casino entrance... what the hell? That debt collector again?...

"Mierda...Mafioso..."

Chance muttered as he threw the cards on the tables, grabbed his briefcase, and put money in from the losers, practically stealing.

"Okay guys, yall can go home now, this game ends here."

Chance says, closing the briefcase and running away, the players obviously angry and confused.

Chance leaves through the back door, not the first time he's fled his own casino. He knows he owes, owes the Mafioso a lot, maybe even the price of an organ, but he'll pretend he forgot and run until the dust settles.