The last Mega-Ball dropped, and the announcer read its number. The world slowed to a crawl as the man said, “Number 11.” Marco took a deep drag from his cigarette. “Oh, no!” If he had won less than one million, Marco could keep it under wraps. He had been trying to keep a low profile since he’d left his former life as an indie hitman. $200 million was too high profile but too little to pay off the friends of the people he had killed. “They could blackmail me forever and then kill me.” Marco swore and tore up the ticket.
By Sam Nikiski