The quarterly assembly of the High Commission at Casa Nostra in Little Italy was unlike any meeting that had taken place in the eighty-year history of the five families. The private dining room on the third floor was not filled with armed bodyguards or nervous capos checking their waistbands for concealed firearms. It was filled with the warm, celebratory aroma of roasted prime rib, aged Chianti, and fresh cannoli. At…
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