"Don, sign it. At least the Romano family will still have a seat on the Committee tomorrow."Lorenzo stood to the right of my father's desk, his voice so steady you'd never have guessed he had anything to hide.He wore the silver advisor's pin my father had given him ten years ago.He wasn't a Romano, but for a decade he'd handled documents that could make or break us.Casino license renewals, foundation accounts, family trusts. Everything went through him first.Tonight, he'd brought a management agreement.The only sound in my father's study was the crackle of the fire.The safe stood open. Three notices lay on the desk. The Committee had suspended our seat, St. George Casino's license was under preliminary review, and all three of our banks had withdrawn their support.The message was clear. If we didn't fix this tonight, we could be thrown off the Committee tomorrow.My father, Marcello, sat behind his desk, his face dark with anger.Adrian stood to his left, his eyes bloodshot fro
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