Chapter Forty Two

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"I can't fucking believe this," Callum said, "Dealing arms? All this time when I thought he was out for business trips.. he was in Russia fucking selling guns to the mafia!"

"Cal," Tucker sighed, "Babe. You need to calm down."

"How can I be calm after this?" Callum shook his head, "You know when you hated me in the start? When you hated me because of my family—"

"I didn't know you and you're not your family."

"—I just wanted to prove you wrong and tell you that hey! Not all rich people are assholes. My family hasn't done anything criminal. We pay taxes. We pay our employees. I wanted to so badly show you this but little did I know." Callum let out a short bitter laugh.

"That's not relevant, Cal. Your father's actions are not yours." Tucker justified.

"Tucker he not only stole money and fucked over so many fucking people, he also fucking sold weapons. Weapons that have been used to kill god knows how many people." Callum pinched his forehead, massaging it as he felt a migraine coming.

"And he'll answer for his crimes." Tucker kept his arm on Callum's shoulder.

"CeCe said the FBI dragged him out of the house.." Callum said lowly, "And the lawyer he.. What do you think? What's going to happen? Tell me as an attorney."

"With all the charges that he's facing.. And if they have the proof to find him guilty then he's going in for life. His only hope would be pleading guilty and working out some sort of a deal. I'm sure a man like him has more than enough dirt to take down a lot of people." Tucker answered thoughtfully.

"Would you be his lawyer?" Callum asked impulsively, and regretted it almost instantly as Tucker froze.

"Cal.. Cal, I can't."

"I know, I'm sorry!" Callum said quickly, "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. You prosecute people like him, not protect them. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Tucker wrapped his arm around Callum and pulled him closer.

Tucker couldn't help but feel really guilty. He tried to justify it in his head by reminding himself that he absolutely couldn't tell Callum, and that if he could, then he would. Plus, it's not like it would've made anything better had Tucker told him earlier. Maybe it would've given Callum some time to come to terms with it, but nothing more.

There's also the fact that the older Kaufman probably knew that he was going to be arrested soon. Tucker had seen enough criminals to know that the way Callum described his father's suspicious actions the past few months, especially his rush to get his affairs in order, was a dead giveaway of a man that knew what kind of trouble he was in.

If Callum's father didn't want to tell his son about the deep shit that he was in, then who was Tucker to do so? But Tucker also knew that no matter how much he tried to justify it to himself, the guilt would remain in his conscience. And it would continue to weigh him down.

"What's prison like?" Callum asked after a while of silence.

"It's not a nice place. I don't think you want to know, Cal." Tucker sighed.

"What are the chances of him ending up in a white collar prison?" Callum questioned again.

"If there are criminal charges against him, especially grave ones like selling weapons to the mafia then that's very unlikely," Tucker pursed his lips slightly, "If I were his lawyer, I'd really push for a plea deal. That's his only hope."

"And if you were his persecutor?" Callum turned to his side to look at the attorney, "Would you let him off with a deal?"

"If there are bigger fish to fry and he gives me enough to catch them, then yes." Tucker nodded.

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