I was peeking over the side of Marco's arm at the documents inside the Manila folder in his hands. It wasn't really clear what it was that I was looking at, but I was looking, and it was there. A bunch of posts, similar to a bank statement, was printed out and neatly arranged from newest to oldest, newest being on top, and oldest on the bottom.
The numbers I was seeing were large. Like, ridiculously large. An average payment to the DiBiancci's was two hundred thousand euros, and that was twice a month. Marco turned the page and I gasped.
"One and a half million euros? Oh wow," I looked at her and laughed. "You guys are getting scammed by the DiBiancci's," who the hell needed to pay one and a half million euros a month to whom and what the fuck for? Existing? Imagine getting scammed by the most idiotic people in the mob business? Could never be me. "Wow, you Italians are something else, truly. A million euros… Marco, that's abuse."
