Chapter 6
The three club members in the Founders’ Circle were worse in a different way.
They thought it was real.
Dominic had shown them the charter.
Victor confirmed the family history around it.
They believed they had been invited into something old and exclusive.
That word does dangerous work on rich men.
Exclusive.
They paid large annual contributions.
Not bribes in their minds.
Prestige.
In exchange, Dominic gave them better tables, advance event access, private tasting rooms, introductions to visiting allies.
None of those privileges were inherently dangerous.
But then they began recommending who else was “appropriate” for membership.
Old members they disliked waited longer.
New members they sponsored moved faster.
The false circle became a social gate.
Dominic had created a private club inside my private club.
I almost respected the absurdity.
Almost.
Then one member admitted:
“We thought you approved.”
“Why?”
“Because Dominic is your nephew.”
There.
Again.
Borrowed authority.
May you like
Nobody called me because proximity looked like permission.
The disease was larger than one manager.
