I kept moving, attempting to make them nervous and on edge as I came upon their chairs. Internally, I laughed at my words, knowing there wasn't such a thing as leniency in the mafia, but it had a nice ring to it. Focusing on the men at the table, I knew Sax would be watching the whole room and keeping my six. There were a few other guards who were loyal amongst us, filling me with confidence that no one would stab me in the back with a pencil. It was the closest thing to a weapon they'd have, nothing else allowed in this room.
"No volunteers? Interesting." I stopped and rubbed my chin in concentration. "Okay, I guess I'll get to talk today."
By this point, Marcel was bound in zip ties and duct-taped. He couldn't discount anything I said, making this even better for me to outsource. I started pacing again around the table, focusing on the men sitting there.
"For the past month, I've been trying to figure out who the leak was in our family. Someone helped the Grim Reaper, and someone was still stealing even after he'd been taken out. It couldn't be Dayton, right? He's dead. I shot him myself. So, it had to be someone still here. I poured and poured over the books, but I couldn't figure out how they were doing it. Something wasn't adding up, but everything was perfect. Now, someone remind me, what did I go to school for? Was it bullshitting?"
"No, boss. You went to school for business. MBA, if I remember correctly."
"Excellent, Jasper. Thank you. Yes, my mother fucking MBA. And you know what my specialty was? Hmm? Let me help you out with this one. Finance. So, imagine my surprise when numbers are my specialty, yet I cannot find any accounting errors. None. Zilch. Nada. What do you think that means? Joel, care to field this one for me?"
"Um, that we're all really good at math?"
His cluelessness saved him, and I moved on to my next contestant on 'who screwed over my family'.
"Actually, Joel, that would be wrong. The opposite, in fact. You see, there's a certain percentage of error that is a given because people are involved. If it were all machines, then yes, I'd expect it to be perfect. But since the money is passed through many hands and many fronts, there's a small margin for discrepancies. It's natural and expected. So, why aren't there any errors?"
"Lucca, any guesses?"
"Because someone's stacking it?"
"Bingo, we have a winner. Wanna know your prize?"
I twirled around, zeroing in on my prey. I felt a bit manic at this point, the adrenaline buzzing through me, pushing me to make a big scene.
"Um, sure?"
"Well, Lucca, your prize is that you get to live today. So where does that leave us, folks?"
Leaning down on the table, I stared across it at my uncle. Disgust filled me with all the memories over the years of him helping me, and I couldn't trust any of it. Not now.
"Uncle, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"I don't know what you're implying, nephew. I haven't been involved in the business at all in the past six months. You know this."
He was good, and I almost bought it. The last piece of the puzzle would seal his fate, though. Flipping a switch under the table, I activated the blacklight before moving away from it.
"Well, that's easy to prove, Uncle, if you're as innocent as you say. Can everyone around the table please empty their pockets and put what they have on the table?"
Change, bills, wallets, and a few odds and ends clattered on the surface as the three people remaining emptied their pockets. Immediately, I knew who the culprit was. And once everyone had their pockets emptied, so did everyone else. Seth started to slow clap before he stood, no longer playing the idiot doting uncle.
"I'm impressed, Atticus. Genius move really to use the blacklight on the cash. I didn't give you enough credit, and that's my fault. It took your father much longer to figure it out. Of course, he chose to join in on my scheme, and together, we aligned ourselves with Delgado. I feel so bad about what happened to Immy. Tragic, really, but it's all part of this life. Shame she had to see her mother shot like that, but you're no stranger to deaths, either, are you?"
Locking down my emotions, I strained not to punch the lying bastard in the face. Thankfully, Sax had blocked the exit already, trapping him. So despite his guard, Victor, coming from the other direction, I was confident the rest of the men were loyal. This would be the determining point for Joel. Who did he follow when it mattered?
"How did you do it, Atticus? May I ask?"
He kept slowly moving, locking eyes with me, and I knew it was a ploy of some sort. I cast my eyes to Joel, and the look of hurt on his face showcased he hadn't known of his father's deceit. Now, it would depend on his actions.
"Easy enough, I slipped it in with every deposit. That way, I could see who was stealing from me. I hadn't expected you, though, Uncle."
"That's where you lack the creativity to think beyond this family. I'm expanding us and making us richer beyond belief—"
Before he could say anything else, Jasper had finally subdued his guard, allowing Sax to come up behind Seth and knock him out by activating his pressure point, not needing to hear any more of his evil monologue. I didn't want to give him time to escape or activate any failsafe plan. Once he was bound and gagged alongside Marcel, I turned to Joel.
"Time to decide, cousin. Who's side are you on?"
He looked back and forth between his father on the ground and me. I allowed it because it was an important choice, and he needed to be behind it completely, or no one would ever trust him in the family. I saw when his decision was made, and he turned to me.
"Family above all. I choose the family. My father is dead to me and will forthrightly be known as the traitor."
Nodding, I accepted his answer and indicated to the guards to take out the three who had made their choice. I'd deal with Marcel later, but it was obvious he wasn't fit to lead. Finally, taking a seat, we got to business. I nominated Jasper to take over Marcel's Capo role, and it was voted on unanimously.
I disclosed my meeting with Darren and how it appeared he was working outside his own father, and how we might use that against him. Lucca suggested scheduling something with the Rawles, as well, and we might be able to form an alliance to rally against Delgado.
I wasn't at that place yet, but I acknowledged the path as a possibility. I just hoped it wouldn't be necessary. Chicago hadn't seen a turf war in fifty years. I didn't want to start one now. Not if I had anything to do about it. The casualties from it would be devastating, and I couldn't guarantee we would all survive. It was a chance I couldn't take with Immy's life. Not now, not ever.