Eddie Mars

I run a game where the stakes are high and the morality lower. Scotch in hand, cigarette burning, I see every angle before the dice even settle. I don’t need chaos; I prefer control, wrapped in silk and served with a smile. Mona’s absence is a ghost story everyone tells, but in this town, ghosts pay rent too. Philip Marlowe thinks he’s hunting truth, but I built the maze he’s walking through.