It was just before the summer of 1946 when I took the job. It was merely by chance that we had met, a warm night in a dirty place, with the hundreds of simple faces saying plain things. I was out at some party, watching people dance around me, laughing and enjoying themselves. I was surrounded by excitement, but I was not a part of it.  My wife had left me, and my job as a businessman was not going well due to the fact that I was flat broke. Days went on, and as they passed, they seemed to forget about me, I was pushed away from the world, off some cliff into a pit of depression. As the people danced on I sat at the bar with a warm beer in my hand, I drank it while staring at the empty bottles lined in front of me. I took another gulp, just before a man stumbled into me, forcing me to spill my drink upon my raggedy clothing.
“Excuse me sir I hadn’t noticed you there!” These words bellowed from his mouth, they lingered in the air for just a moment before disappearing among the crowd.
I looked up from my already stained, once white shirt, my eyes drifted towards the man. He was a heavy set fellow, with black hair slicked back and he wore marvelous clothes, the kind that were featured on the magazines intended to be read by the wealthy. His eyes were fixed on me, and I beamed back with desperate eyes.
The silence was broken like a mirror struck by a stone.
“Care for a drink?” shouted the bartender to the stranger who had bumped into me seconds before.
“Yes, that would be great, make it two as a matter of fact.” He replied back with that easy voice once more. He turned back to me.
“My apologies, ‘been a crazy night”
I pretended I was part of the fun, “I guess so.” these words crawled out in a melancholy tone.
He grabbed the drinks, and handed one to me, at this point I could tell he took interest in me. He began to interrogate me, asking questions about my past, my time in the service, and my current job. There was not much to discuss; I had a boring life as a farmer's child, I was no war hero, and I wouldn’t even consider what I was doing a “job”. His face showed empathy, and he was interested in these boring stories I rambled on about. He let me finish before proposed the question.
“You seem like a good man. Someone who has lived through the tough times. I remember the years of my life when I lived like you, it was hard. This is why I want to offer you some help. Would you like to work for me?”
I was shocked by the offer, he must do something that paid well, but I had no idea what the task would be. I inquired as to what the job was, but he kept it discrete. I thought of my life then and what it might be if I accepted the offer.
“You got a deal.” The phrase spilled from my lips, I shook his hand firmly and even grinned a little.
By the end of the night I still was uninformed of the job, but was told I start Monday. The last thing I remembered before I passed out, was Mr. Gambino had called me a cab to deliver me to my apartment.
...
It was 1947, I had been working for Mr. Gambino for over a year now, and I was his top guy. I was able to bring in a lot of business, and put ends to unwanted relations. I was positioned near the Astor Hotel waiting for Robert De Rossi. He was a wanted man, he threatened to expose Gambino if money wasn’t transferred to his account by the end of the day. The crosshairs steadied near his limo, two men waited outside the car. The figure sauntered out of the lobby, unaware of my presence, 800 yards out. By this time, I had perfected the art, pulling the trigger was as easy as anything. When Mr. De Rossi dropped, everyone scattered. I grinned as I threw the rifle back in my Cadillac, remembering that this was the biggest job yet, and the pay would be very generous. I sped off back to my estate, the cops remained unaware of my presence, rushing towards the scene.
“Park it in the garage this time.” I hopped out of the car, tossing the keys to my butler.
“Of course sir.” He saw the rifle laid in the back seat and understood why I made this request.
I made my way up the stone stairs and into the house. I soon found a fine bottle of scotch and poured a heavy amount. I stopped myself from downing a second, realizing I had a dinner to attend to. Mr Gambino wanted me there, we were going to discuss important matters.
I arrived at the diner just before 6:00. Grey clouds moved around in the sky, bringing a heavy downpour. I rushed into the doors, and was told to follow a waiter. I was led to a discrete room near the back of the restaurant. The lights were dimmed, there was a large table in the center where he sat. Mr. Gambino extended his arm towards me, with a fake looking smile upon his face. I shook his hand and sat down with him.
“We’ve got some serious business to talk about today.” His face was now stern.
“If it’s about De Rossi, you can forget it. He’s gone.” I responded with a chip on my shoulder.
“No, it’s about you.” He avoided my eyes when he said this.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m terribly sorry, I had no choice. They threatened to kill me if I didn’t tell them.” He got up and put on his jacket.
I began yelling at him, who did he tell, and what did he tell them? Just then, the door burst open. The rat walked out the back door, and soon I was surrounded by men in black uniforms. I was dragged out to a car, dazed and confused about the recent events. I was knocked out and thrown into the car.
I awoke to a large man standing in front of me. I was tied onto a chair in an empty room.
More men appeared in the room, I realized then that they were the same people that were guarding Mr. De Rossi’s car.
“That coward!” These were the men that Gambino ratted me out to, the ones that were going to kill him.
They smirked when I said this, and the bigger of the three came closer.
“It’s time to pay for what you’ve done.” Turning around, he grabbed a gun from one of the others.
While I now stared down death, I remembered the night I first met Gambino, how he saved me, gave me a new life. Now he ended me and everything I possessed. The price I was about to pay, was greater than all the money I had.