PART 2: THE REVERSE AUDIT & THE CROWN OF TITANIUM BEDROCK
CHAPTER 1: THE TOAST AT THE EIGHTEENTH TABLE
The crystal water goblet in my son Julian’s pale, slender right hand did not tremble.
It caught the incandescent overhead glow of the eighty-arm brass chandelier hanging above our sixty-foot formal dining room in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan—an estate built with five million dollars of ancestral marble, hand-carved mahogany boiserie, and the cold, unyielding silence of an eighteen-year domestic graveyard.
Thirty-four guests sat along the banquet table.
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