Page 25 of A Second Chance for Love

“Yes, even after sixty years,” he agreed, rather amazed by the old couple himself.

“Juss?”

“Hmm?”

“How did you become so successful?”

He stared into the darkness, torn. He’d never told anyone how he’d accumulated enough money to buy his first property—a step that had led to another and then another, as he learned he had a sort of genius for determining which part of London to invest in.

“It’s not a very uplifting tale.”

“Oh.” There was a long pause, and then, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”

Juss didn’t tell her that he already knew that, that he hadn’t needed to do anything he didn’t want in years—not since he’d earned enough money to tell anyone who ordered him to do anything to piss off.

But he wanted to tell her, even though he would not come out of it in a very positive light. He didn’t want to look at his reasons for that. Not now.

“Once again I found it difficult to find a job that paid enough to afford a roof and food,” he said. “I’d met a man while I was held in Constantinople, a Prussian who spoke better English than I did.”

Oona chuckled and the sound warmed him.

“Dieter and his brother had inherited a pottery in Cologne and saved their money to buy the building next to it to expand. Before they could do so, they received an offer for the building that was almost twice what they’d paid, so they moved their pottery to a new location and still had money left to buy another building. That’s when they decided that buying and selling properties was more lucrative than pottery. They were doing exceptionally well when Dieter was pressganged one night on his way home from their pottery. He’d not been able to get word to his brother and had been gone for three years by the time I met him.”

“That’s dreadful! His brother probably thought he was dead.”

Juss nodded and then remembered she couldn’t see him. “When I was released I sent a letter for Tomas, so his brother knows the truth.”

“Oh. That was very kind of you.”

“You sound surprised,” he said wryly, not waiting wait for an answer. “I thought about Dieter’s story a lot, but couldn’t figure out how to accumulate enough money to even begin. Certainly that would never happen scraping by with part-time work at inns.” He took a deep breath, held it, and then released it slowly. “I knew the name of the man my brother-in-law had worked for. I knew he paid well because the work was both dangerous and illegal.” He paused, but she said nothing.

“I finally decided to go see him. Needless to say he was not a trusting fellow.” Juss didn’t tell her that Crazy Eddie Mayer was the most suspicious, unstable, dangerous man he’d ever met. Nor did he share the fact that Eddie had beaten the shit out of Juss—or had his henchman do it, rather—and then kept him locked up for two weeks before actually talking to him.

“After some consideration Eddie decided to hire me, but I would begin at the bottom.” Juss shook his head; what bloody awful days those had been. “To put it bluntly, Oona, I was a petty criminal. I stole, fenced, and enforced for Eddie.”

“Oh.”

He smiled bitterly. “Oh, indeed. I worked in that capacity for six months or so, steadily moving up, until I became one of his personal guards—the most trusted of his men.” Also the most likely to irritate Eddie in some harmless fashion and end up dead, thanks to his proximity to the maniac.

“That was both better and worse: better because I didn’t have to work the streets, but worse because Eddie liked to throw his weight around.” Or have Juss do it for him, which earned him a reputation as one of the most dangerous men in that part of London. “It was perhaps a year after I’d started for him that he began a turf struggle with another gang—one stronger than his—that ended very badly for Eddie and most of his men. It was just dumb luck that Eddie had sent me to deliver a message at the time of the attack.”

“Did they—were they—”

“Dead, all of them.”

There was a long moment of silence, when Juss was tempted to tell her about the boys’ school he’d started—his way of making amends for his criminal past. But the thought of puffing off his good deeds left a sour taste in his mouth.

“What happened next?” she asked, her tone curious rather than disgusted or judging.

“Eddie paid the men who guarded him well, and we lived and ate for free because he kept us with him. That meant I’d saved most of my money. I didn’t have enough to buy an actual building, but I had enough to invest in a small bakery.” He didn’t tell her that it was a business Eddie had all but ruined by squeezing it for “protection” money.

“Even with investing in the bakery I had enough money left to play the ‘Change.”

Nobody had been more surprised than Juss when it turned out he was a bloody wizard when it came to trading. It was a skill he’d never expected to find in himself, and one that made him a very, very, very wealthy man.

“And so you bought more properties?”

“No, I wasn’t good at what Tomas and his brother did. I was more successful with business investments. I’ve since purchased a few places—the one on Cork Street, for example—but I generally keep them as I’ve not got the knack for buying and selling them.” He shifted his body to find a more comfortable position, failing to do so but banging the top of his foot against the bed leg in the process. “Bloody hell!” he muttered under his breath.