Page 206 of The Fire We Make

“This is all circumstantial,” Gerald spluttered.

Ace shrugged as he relaxed in his seat, a headache setting in. “Individually, maybe. But combined, this paints the picture of a conspiracy that dates back months.”

Delroy closed his folder and sat back. “The evidence is damning, Kincaid, and he’s the only one who can dispute it. Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Gerald repeated through gritted teeth.

“You don’t know or you won’t say?” Salvatore asked through narrowed eyes.

“I said I don’t fucking know! Look, clearly he was unsuccessful in whatever he was trying to do and everything is fine. Can we just let this go?”

“This Council has already extended Isaac an abundance of grace,” Alfonso Reyes said.

“He’s on thin fucking ice with me after that incident with one of my girls at the club,” Andre Reyes chimed in with his father from his spot on the wall.

“He was drunk!” Gerald protested.

“Oh please Gerald. I get drunk every weekend and I’ve never slapped around a stripper,” Leonardo De Leone spoke up from beside his father, glaring at Gerald.

No one at the table wanted to say it, but this was precisely the reason Isaac acted the way he did. Gerald constantly cleaned up his messes and made excuses for his vile behavior, making him become entitled and reckless.

“Successful or not, this stunt created a lot of police attention. He literally snitched on his own men,” Salvatore noted, motioning to the folder.

“It’s been contained,” Gerald said.

“That doesn’t make it excusable, Gerald, and you know that. Once you’re on their radar, there’s no telling what will happen. One family on the radar means risk for everyone,” Zachariah spoke up for the first time.

Gerald sighed, and Ace could see the defeat and acceptance in his expression. “Why not exile him?”

The Council’s laws were very clear. Working with law enforcement and assassination attempts were immediate grounds for execution.

“He’s already proven he’ll sacrifice this Council, his organization and anyone in it for his ambition,” Salvatore shook his head.

Gerald gulped, his throat bobbing as he fought emotion. “You can’t leave me without an heir,” he croaked.

“You have another son,” Ace noted. “Your oldest from your first marriage.”

Gerald glared at the mention of the son that wanted nothing to do with him and hadn’t been seen in almost 20 years.

“Yes, but he⁠—”

“Are we ready to vote?” Ace cut him off. He was done bargaining and the slight throb in his head was becoming stronger by the minute.

“Let’s put it to a vote,” Salvatore said. “All in favor of approving King’s request?”

Hands went up around the room with only Gerald’s hands at his sides, red faced.

“That’s settled then. Kincaid, your son has 48 hours to plead his case and clear this up, otherwise the decision stands,” Delroy Toussaint reminded him.

“Pops, are you going to allow this?” Gerald asked, turning to Zachariah in a last ditch effort.

“This is your doing,” Zachariah said, pointing a finger at him. “You let that boy get away with murder from the moment he was born and now he’s gone too far. Please don’t think that my loyalty to your father will ever outweigh my love for my grandchildren, and the stability of the empire we built together.”

With that, he stood, prompting the other elders, then their heirs to stand as well.

Ace rose from his seat, and Von and Jrue walked to stand beside him. They moved to the door, passing a dejected Gerald on the way out.

Ace paused in front of him, leaning in close to speak only for his ears. “If I find out you were in on this with him, you’ll join your seed in hell,” Ace promised through gritted teeth.