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he was neither the leader nor the partner. Marco had all the ideas. He had shipped the first horse to China, breaking the taboo that horses couldn’t travel by plane. He had bought the stable, organised the courier. The contract was signed, if it wasn't Marco who had invited him in and spent three days selling the story. $200,000 worth of cooperation with the Chinese army, thanks to Anna and Marco involved in one deal. Marco sold the stut to China and later Marco was still buying it back, ever so eager.

But Andre didn’t slow down the pace. Like Marco, he took away a lot, but was still living the high life. Like Marco, he wanted it all, exactly like Marco. He wasn't the kind of guy to settle down on that little farm in Tuscany and live as if he’d won the lottery. No. Come rain or come shine, he’d go out looking for another deal. And if it wasn't for horses, it was for real estate, cars, antiques, art. He was the one who was telling the story, who knew everyone. Not even the horses were his. He just used them as a means to reach that world. Did he even like horses? If someone gave him a choice between a horse and a pile of money, he wouldn't hesitate for a second. Marco loved them. Andre loved the lifestyle. He bought and sold horses to pay off the debts he’d made, or to buy a fancy car, or a house in the hills, or to impress a new girlfriend.

Despite working with Marco, Andre lamented the Lemon. Juice boy’s cowboy ways and impatient attitude to money. Andre was the bookkeeper, pedantically precise about cash and ruthlessly capitalist.

"I hate him to work with Marco too much, because when I do this, it’s little details, I pay for, I sell for 10, I have five pesos, okay, like water. Marco is totally different: 50, I buy, 2 kilos, I want to give 200 grams to my neighbour and 200 grams for free, because you have beautiful eyes! Whose ... ? Hey! Hey, man, where is your profit? For me this is stupid. If I put my bill or 100, I will not give it away, Marco is crazy."

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