Chapter Text
"Aaron," The Boss remained a stern glare in his direction. "Your opinion?"
He gulped, gazing back. He hadn't considered any of it from the moment he stepped into this sit-down. Truthfully, he would be more than happy to be interfering in Angelica and Lee's argument right now, but instead, he has to be part of the Capo's sit-down.
He straightens up in his seat, twirling the Jack Rose in his glass around. A shimmer of ice cubes hitting the glass rim fills the room. He looks away. "I don't get it, sir," He expresses. "Why would Mr. Hamilton offer such a thing?…" He murmurs under his breath. Biting down, his teeth grazing his lower lip.
Satisfied with the reply, Mr. Jefferson continue. "That man is as predictable as his own temper. But this," He gestured around. His afro almost caught his hand. "is just… forget about it. What I'm sayin' is what they have to offer."
Of course. Our Capo of the Northwest of the family's territory - a.k.a him, trade for a tight-lipped on the Week's case. He, himself, is the one that took it. On January 2nd, Gulielma Sands's body was recovered from the Manhattan Well in Lispenard Meadows. It was at that time that she served as a soldier for The Revolt. Weeks, however, was a Capo under Mr. Jefferson. The witnesses and evidence are more than enough to send him straight to jail. There is no doubt that this will have a significant impact on The Clan's reputation in the eyes of the Godfather - Washington.
Washington retained a keen eye on every single detail of the paperwork including his own. But there is one major advantage that only The Revolt have, and that is the fact that their Boss is the Godfather's right-hand man. Now that puts our family in a tight situation. As much as this deal offers Mr. Jefferson significant benefits, it is insufficient to make him accept it on the spot. Not to mention, the trade back - him. This is an invalid offer.
"I say we ignore it," Angelica declares. "Ain't no way we gonna let them New Yorkers get him, sir." She clenched her jaw tight.
"But please consider it again, sir. This is a once-of-a-chance proposal. Fundamentally, we can get a bigger problem off our backs -"
"But we can't risk losing another Capo," She interfered. Almost managed to look seething. As Madison watches the argument that is flowing out before him with a spark of amusement in his eyes, he continues to take note of what is going on.
Lee clenched his fingers around the neck of his Martini. "Well I certainly think you can't view what's ahead," He retorted, breaking into a satisfied smirk.
"Enough of you two!" Bellamy chimes in. Doing the job that's most of the time his. "This isn't about you, and moreover, we didn't even get yet a word out of Mr. Jefferson or Mr. Madison."
And as soon as Jon stated that in a speaking tone, the room suddenly began to fill with silence. Not a single word is dropped, only the clinking of ice cubes or the once-so-often sizzling of Mr. Jefferson's cigar. He's starting to become skeptical about the benefits of this sit-down. Maybe he should just give himself to The Revolt. That's the easiest way but perhaps not the smartest. Giving up his Capo position for an unknown statement from the Boss of the other family. This is a loose-loose debate.
Burr cleared his throat. "The rules are very clear: "Dedicate yourself to the betterment of the Family." I believe that this shouldn't be a difficult decision to make anymore, sir." He doesn't know what he is doing. He is sacrificing himself for what he thinks he thinks is morality. Was it worth it?
"Aaron," Mr. Jefferson finally spoke up. "I appreciate your efforts for the greater good however you must understand, the choice will and always will belong to the other representatives of this sit-down." He lowered his gaze, tossing the cigar into the ashtray. Slowly picking up his glass of gin and tonics, the Virginian's signature drink. "But please, let me send a last apology and thanks to you."
He nodded, swigged one last taste of his Jack Rose, and headed straight out of the room within a beat, almost missing the worried look in Bellamy's eyes. His lips did not move as he resisted a smile and closed the door behind him.
When he leaned his head against the cold hardwood, he wondered whether he had made the right decision.
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His plan, however, is not based on this virtue. In fact, he did not plan on standing here, in front of the other clan's building in New York City. And he certainly did not plan on the three-four votes he got. Somehow he manages to believe that Mr. Madison would somehow grant him a vote but he was wrong, deeply wrong. The man's entire legacy is built on Mr. Jefferson's. There's not a chance he would dismiss an offering that is generally beneficial to them.
Regardless, he is here, in front of a law firm in disguise. The building is located downtown, close to the train station, and in a very crowded and busy area of the city, ironically enough. It was constructed approximately 10 years ago, a 30 story building, and the outer of the entire thing is made of glass. There are a lot of flowers and plants in front of the firm. Looks friendly enough.
The suitcase all of a sudden feels heavy in his grip. His shoulders are tense, his gaze slowly floating upward, scrutinizing the building in a scowl. Photons still hit his eyes and sound waves break on his eardrum, but these perceptions don't register in his mind. Suddenly, he snapped back into reality. Acknowledging his aching foot, he realized that he had been standing in the same spot for the last ten minutes. Sighing, he walked in.
Past the front door, about a few feet was the receptionist. There is a man seated there in a cream suit, who seems to be engaging in a fistfight with the telephone. John Laurens. In order to get his attention, he knocked twice on the counter. The other man perks up and murmurs a quick 'Call you back' before putting the phone down.
Burr swallowed. "Sir, may I please - "
"I already know why you're here. In fact, everyone here does," Laurens interjects, flashing a winning smile. "Here." He slid from under the table an empty employee card, dropping the smile completely. "Top floor, Boss's waiting."
He nodded, bemused by the other man's boldness. Taking a slight shaky step back, he realized this was just the beginning of everything that terrified him. The glass floor squeaks under his dress shoes. He carefully skimmed the card before tucking it in. Unfortunately, the elevator is on the other side of the hall. Knowing the fact that his identity and the reason he's here are no longer secrets made his guts twist. He chew on his lower lip. In the back of his throat, he started to feel a bitter taste forming as soon as he pushed the button to go up to the top floor. He shake his head slightly, praying that this is not some of God's sick joke.