Chapter 8
The Romano Family Foundation board met on Saturday morning.
Cassian attended for six minutes.
Long enough to make one decision.
The foundation’s outside counsel explained the options.
A narrow audit could investigate:
Northgate.
Lucas’s hidden support file.
Lucinda’s related-party disclosures.
The hotel incident.
The forged documents.
A full audit would examine:
Fourteen years of family-assistance and foundation reimbursements.
Dominic’s legacy allocations.
Cassian’s approvals.
Related-party vendors across every family program.
Security costs.
Confidential settlements.
Donor restrictions.
Any temporary use of client or company money that touched foundation accounts.
Cassian’s uncle Vincent objected immediately.
“You open fourteen years, you are not investigating Lucinda anymore.”
Cassian looked at him.
“That’s the point.”
“You have no idea what Dominic put through those accounts.”
“I’m learning.”
“You could expose family settlements that were legal but private.”
“Privilege stays protected where it legally can.”
“Tax mistakes.”
“Correct them.”
“Regulators.”
“Cooperate.”
Vincent stared.
“You’re talking like an accountant.”
Cassian almost smiled.
“Terrifying, isn’t it?”
No one laughed.
The independent chair asked:
“Mr. Romano, do you understand that a full audit may identify misconduct by people other than Lucinda?”
“Yes.”
“Including your late father?”
“Yes.”
“Including you?”
“Yes.”
“And that this committee will control disclosure obligations?”
“Yes.”
Cassian signed.
Then he resigned temporarily as foundation chair and withdrew from the vendor-transition committee entirely.
He also relinquished direct authority over the Family Assistance Trust until outside counsel completed its work.
Lucinda’s attorneys immediately called it an admission.
Cassian did not respond publicly.
The decision hurt within hours.
A donor postponed a $5 million pledge.
A bank asked questions about foundation-related transactions.
A family real-estate entity discovered $92,000 in misclassified security expenses.
Some belonged to Cassian personally.
He repaid $31,000 with interest.
Vincent called him.
“You’re paying money no one asked you to pay.”
“It wasn’t the foundation’s expense.”
“Your father would laugh at you.”
“My father hid my son for twelve years.”
Silence.
Then Cassian said:
“I’m done using him as the standard.”
The audit began.
No one could quietly narrow it later.
That was what made the decision irreversible.
Lucinda lost the advantage she had been trying to create.
She could no longer control which documents auditors saw first.
Outside counsel imaged servers immediately.
Northgate records were preserved.
Family-office credentials frozen.
Archived digital signature access shut down.
Every prior delegation had to be reauthorized.
Then investigators found Cassian’s first personal failure unrelated to Lucas.
Three years earlier, he had approved a $140,000 foundation “community security partnership” that also protected one of his private business properties during a neighborhood event.
Approximately $48,000 should have been charged privately.
Cassian reimbursed it.
No excuse.
No argument that his father used to do worse.
Katherine noticed the effect on staff.
People began bringing her documents voluntarily.
Not because Cassian frightened them.
Because they realized admitting mistakes no longer automatically meant destruction.
That change produced the most important witness yet.
A foundation accountant named Melissa Crane came forward with a flash drive.
“I think Lucinda was preparing a second set of books.”
Katherine looked at her.
“For Northgate?”
May you like
“For everything connected to Lucas.”
Part 10 was getting close.
