Trial by Fire
GIOVANNI
The stench of power was in the air. It came in waves.
Every time another tycoon passed my path in New York City’s infamous Metropolitan opera, I caught another whiff of it. It was wafting down the seats, coasting from the corridors all the way to the stage, and by the time the aroma made it to my balcony section, it was safe to say that I was f*****g swimming in it, breathing it in along with the theater’s very stale air.
It was addicting. I had been around it far too long.
The presence of powerful people often made weaker men sick, but in my case, it had turned into a drug, an addictive inhalant. I honestly believed that a warning sticker should have been administered to the back of these powerful players’ preppy, dollar-bill-wiped asses because the second I wa
