Hours before he was convicted on federal bank and tax fraud charges last year, Chaka "Chip" Fattah Jr. vowed there wasn't going to be any apologizing.
"I don't care if I get five years, 10 years, 20 years," he told reporters as the jury deliberated nearby. "Every lawyer I know says I'm going to win this case on appeal."
Now, scheduled for a sentencing hearing next week, the 33-year-old son of U.S. Rep. Chaka Fattah (D., Pa.) may care a great deal more about the prison term he is facing.
On Tuesday, U.S. District Judge Harvey Bartle III is expected to decide on an appropriate punishment for a man prosecutors have depicted as a con artist who cheated banks, clients of his myriad businesses, and taxpayers out of more than $1 million to outfit himself in luxury.
Federal sentencing guidelines suggest Fattah could face anywhere from more than four years in prison to a little less than six. Prosecutors, in court filings Thursday, urged a sentence at the higher end of that range.
"The evidence [at trial] demonstrated incontrovertibly that Fattah was a habitual schemer, liar, and fraudster, obsessed with wealth and material possessions - the opposite of the picture of the well-intentioned legitimate businessman and entrepreneur that he tried to sell the jury," Assistant U.S. Attorneys Paul L. Gray and Eric L. Gibson wrote.
Fattah, who acted as his own lawyer at trial and is expected to represent himself again in court Tuesday, had not submitted his own sentencing recommendation to the judge by late Friday.
And the usually loquacious and publicity friendly congressman's son - who spent the morning of his conviction negotiating his first post-verdict interview with a local TV station - could not be reached for comment.
His cellphone was off. He did not respond to texts or emails. His usually active social media accounts went silent.
Much was made at Fattah's trial last fall of the lavish lifestyle he led, largely paid for by other people's money.
Government witnesses testified about his penchant for designer suits and Hermes ties. Prosecutors scoffed at his attempts to explain away the purchase of a $45,000 BMW 3-series roadster as a business expense.
"Proud of the status he thought he had achieved . . . Fattah actually framed his Amex cards and the receipt he got for the purchase of the BMW," Gray and Gibson wrote Thursday. "The striking items decorated the walls of his [$600,000] apartment at the Ritz."
Over the last decade, Fattah held himself out as the owner of several successful businesses that prosecutors described mostly as scams.
They referred to his management consulting firm, 259 Strategies, as a shell company. American Royalty - his personal concierge service that promised high-rollers access to sports tickets, private planes, and reservations at ritzy restaurants and exclusive golf clubs - ripped off customers out of a total of $53,000.
Nonetheless, Fattah and a former business partner were able to secure $141,000 in business loans in 2005 from area banks to fund those ventures by grossly inflating the money he was making. He spent the cash on himself and later downplayed his income to creditors to convince them he was unable to pay what he owed.
Later, Fattah tipped off authorities to a separate scheme in 2012, when he contacted a Philadelphia School District fraud tip line in 2012, hoping to implicate - and collect a reward for doing so - his then-employer, Delaware Valley High School. The for-profit education firm held more than $4 million in contracts to run two alternative schools.
Fattah told district officials in a meeting that year that company president David T. Shulick had bilked taxpayers out of hundreds of thousands of dollars between 2010 and 2012 by submitting inflated budgets for his program.
But the jury concluded in November that Fattah had also thoroughly implicated himself in the theft.
In their filings Thursday, prosecutors urged Bartle to order Fattah to pay restitution to his victims.
Citing his own words caught on FBI wiretaps, they described his attitude toward those he cheated as one "laced with arrogance, privilege, and a degree of entitlement."
"F- the credit lines," Fattah told a former business partner in one conversation cited by prosecutors in their sentencing recommendation to the judge. "It's not about the credit lines. It's about figuring out how to make money and having fun."
Fattah has long insisted that he caught the attention of federal authorities only because of his father's political prominence.
The congressman faces his own corruption trial in May on allegations that he misused federal grant funds, charitable gifts, and campaign donations under his control to pay off debts and enrich himself and others - charges he has repeatedly denied.
On Friday, the congressman reiterated complaints he has previously made about the Justice Department's conduct in investigating his family in a letter to the House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform.
Earlier this week, Fattah demurred when asked about his son's upcoming sentencing hearing.
"All I can say," he said, "is that I love my son."