about this woman and trying to figure her out. There was nothing to figure out. She was the devil, plain and simple, sent to torment him. She was here just to throw him off, lull him into complacency.
Even the devil was capable of a good deed every century or so, Marcos reasoned. That didn’t mean he wasn’t the devil. And just because Wendy Fortune gave away her tips, something she undoubtedly viewed as small change, to someone who needed every penny didn’t change the fact that she still had enough faults to fill up the Grand Canyon. The sooner he was rid of her, the better.
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