The Dice That Tamed A Tyrant

ck, not with Christmas cheer, but with the

ts that were too bright, reflect

ly on a plush velvet chair that pr

simple habits, and this place, Tony'

ocal dealership, and Dad's discomfo

oversized living room, a cigarillo jutting from his li

as, moderately successful, bu

humble abode," Tony boomed, his v

too hard. "Frankie, still driving that old Bui

t dripped with arrogance. "See this? Hard work. An

etting your hands dirty with grease? A

murmured polite greetings, but their eyes were wary. They were proud

s latest acquisition, a boat too big for any local lake, and Ma

ing, too busy making sure everyone knew h

so subtly, of how Dad had used his savings ye

y said, waving his hand dismissively. "Pocket ch

st to Tony's bluster. My blood simmered. This wasn't just about mon

Tony rubbed his hands together,

e boring stuff. Let's have s

where a professional craps layout was s

d, ensuring everyone heard. "Let's make it interesting – say, $500

a harsh, g

ces. Five hundred a throw was serious mone

smirk. "What's wrong? Christmas bonu

o humiliate them, to assert

t my "grease-monkey" job, his digs at Dad b

about Frank, about the years of quie

n Vegas, knew casinos inside out. She'd taught me things, secre

," I said, my voice steady, cutting t

d to me. Dad l

he let out that booming laugh

uh? But don't come crying to me

y counting my

" I said, meeting his gaze. My resolve hardened. He'd been und

bout that, grease monkey. We'll see

ave enough to join the kid? Or are you a

g his gaze. They feared his temper, his

t it made my decision f