“State your name,” said the woman in the middle of the table. Her nameplate readCommissioner Patricia Hendricks.
“Tashi George.”
“And your position at the Olympus Royale?”
“Director of Marketing and Public Relations.”
“Ms. George,” Commissioner Hendricks continued, flipping through papers in front of her. “You’re aware that you’re here to answer questions regarding allegations of impropriety, conflicts of interest, and potential violations of gaming regulations at the Olympus Royale Hotel and Casino?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A man to her left—Commissioner Robert Chen—leaned forward. “Let’s start with the obvious question. Are you currently in a romantic relationship with Orion, Leonardo, and Ares Kolykos?”
The room went silent.
Standing here, under oath, with cameras recording and reporters scribbling notes, the weight of it felt different.
“Yes,” I said clearly. “I am.”
Murmurs rippled through the gallery.
“All three of them?” Commissioner Chen pressed.
“Yes.”
“Simultaneously?”
“Yes.”
“Ms. George,” another commissioner—a stern-looking man named Wilson—spoke up. “Do you understand how this appears? A marketing director entering into intimate relationships with three men who own the establishment where she works? The power dynamics alone raise serious ethical concerns.”
“I understand your concern,” I said carefully. “But the relationship didn’t begin as a power dynamic. It evolved organically. And I’ve never used my position for personal gain, nor have the Kolykos brothers used their positions to coerce me.”
“Then how do you explain the viral video?” Commissioner Hendricks asked. “The one that started all of this?”
“I wasn’t hired or promoted because of any sexual favors,” I said. “I was retained because I’m good at my job. The Olympus Royale’s social media engagement increased three hundred percent in the month following my hiring. Our occupancy rates are at an all-time high. I’ve successfully managed multiple crisis communications situations, including the recent conspiracy against the hotel.”
“A conspiracy you claim exists,” Commissioner Wilson interjected. “But which you have yet to prove.”
“We have extensive proof,” I said. “We’ve provided financial records showing embezzlement by former CFO Henri Saltz. Digital forensics traced the leak of our private video to Marcus Talbor, a hired operative. Kurt Wilder’s communications with foreign investors were aimed at forcing a sale of the property. We have submitted all this information to both this commission and the federal authorities.”
Commissioner Hendricks consulted her notes. “We’ve reviewed those submissions. They’re concerning. But they don’t address the fundamental question of whether your relationship with the Kolykos brothers represents a conflict of interest.”
“May I ask a question?” I said.
She raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t a dialogue, Ms. George.”
“With respect, Commissioner, if I may—would you be asking these questions if I were in a relationship with only one of the Kolykos brothers?”
Silence.
“Because that’s what this is really about, isn’t it?” I continued. “Not whether I’m qualified for my position. Not whether the hotel is being run ethically. But whether you approve of my personal life. Whether a polyamorous relationship is acceptable in your view.”
“Ms. George—” Commissioner Wilson started.
“I’m in love with three men,” I interrupted. “Men who love me and each other. We’re honest about it. We’re not hiding it. And as of last night, we publicly declared it to hundreds of people at our gala. If that makes you uncomfortable, I understand. But it doesn’t make it unethical. It doesn’t make it illegal. And it certainly doesn’t violate gaming regulations.”
Commissioner Chen leaned back in his chair. “You’re very articulate, Ms. George. But you’re also deflecting. The issueisn’t your personal choices. The issue is whether those choices create conflicts of interest that impact the operation of a gaming establishment.”
