The world is quite like London. It’s not good. It’s not bad. It just is. There’s no morality or dishonor. Just your own lonely code. Until your race is run. Until the end. Until we’re all just ghosts of the people we once thought we were.
God doesn’t ask if we accept this life. There is no choice. Life is forced upon you. The only choice is how you live it. Or not. That’s a choice as well.
Aristocrats and criminals have a lot in common. They’re both selfish, get bored easily, and have access to wads of cash they didn’t have to work honestly to get. The topper? Neither have any interest in bourgeois rules or morality. Put it all together with a roulette wheel. A stunning recipe for success.
London in the 1960’s. Everyone had a story about the Krays. You could walk into any pub to hear a lie or two about them. But I was there and I’m not careless with the truth.