Chapter 152 – Estefania in Chicago
"Hey, Estefania," Jimmy said, glancing back at the bed. "Lock the door, okay? No matter who knocks, don't open it."
Estefania lay sprawled across the bed, chatting on the phone with Marco, and waved at Jimmy with a smile.
Although Jimmy had lost his ability to function as a man, the Brazilian drug lord still forced Estefania to marry him.
The goal was simple: a U.S. green card.
As for whether Jimmy could still get her pregnant—Nando didn't care in the slightest. Once Estefania secured legal status, this useless little punk would be discarded.
Who cared whose child she carried?
Estefania smiled sweetly at Jimmy, but inside she was utterly disgusted.
As the daughter of a drug trafficker, she'd grown up wealthy yet constantly on the move. A life like that warped people.
Just like Karen and Fiona—she suffered from sex addiction.
Only hers was far worse.
Jimmy watched her chatter away in Portuguese, unable to understand a word. That alone was frustrating.
Being able to look but not touch made it unbearable.
With a bitter sigh, he turned and left the apartment.
---
Meanwhile, Carl had already brought over a hammer and a crowbar.
Following Peggy's instructions, he began smashing at the spot where William had once taken money.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Debbie watched curiously. "Why are we knocking a hole in the wall?"
Peggy glanced at her blank expression and smirked. "Renovations."
In reality, Peggy was trying to retrieve her hidden cash—and her gun.
While Carl kept working, Peggy casually asked, "Where are the other kids?"
"Ian's at work. Lip hasn't been around for two days. Liam's at daycare downstairs. Fiona's out working."
Debbie clearly didn't know Fiona now owned a restaurant.
Peggy didn't care.
"What about Frank?" she asked flatly.
Debbie shook her head. "He doesn't live here anymore."
By now, Carl had broken through enough of the wall.
Peggy waved him aside. "Good boy. Move."
Carl stepped back, hammer in hand, watching curiously.
Peggy reached into the hole.
Nothing.
She dug deeper.
Still nothing.
"What the fuck?" Peggy froze. "Where's my money?"
She searched again, panic creeping in.
"Goddammit! What the hell is going on?!"
The surge of anger triggered a sharp pain—her pancreatic cancer flaring up.
Gritting her teeth, she asked, "Has this wall been opened before?"
Debbie thought for a moment. "Earlier this year, someone smashed it open. Fiona had it patched up afterward."
Nothing was missing back then, so they'd assumed it was just Frank acting out after being kicked out.
"What?!" Peggy slammed her thigh. "Fuck! It was that little bastard Frank!"
She glared at them. "Do either of you know where he is?"
No gun. No money.
She was just an old, useless woman now.
Carl and Debbie both shook their heads.
Peggy sighed sharply. "Fine."
She turned to Carl. "Take me to the bank. I need to withdraw something."
Luckily, she still had $200,000 locked away in a safety deposit box.
She planned to split that money among Frank's other siblings.
In Peggy's mind, she'd failed as a mother—failed everyone except Frank.
Frank, though?
Pure trash.
Even Peggy despised him. She felt no guilt toward that waste of space.
At this age, Carl was still obedient—aside from his fondness for destruction.
Breaking windows.
Microwaving toys.
Setting things on fire.
An unhealthy fascination with guns and robbery.
Other than that—
He was a good kid.
Especially when it came to listening to family.
After Peggy finished speaking, Carl nodded blankly, then carefully helped her up and escorted her out of 2119 North Wallace.
Debbie stood there, completely confused.
---
Meanwhile, Fiona placed orders for the ingredients needed for the next day through suppliers recommended by the chefs, then helped everyone clean up the restaurant.
Kevin left early—The Alibi was about to get busy.
"A brand-new beginning!"
Cloth in hand, Fiona stood at the entrance with her hands on her hips, slowly surveying the entire space.
At that moment, her feelings were hard to put into words.
It was like the clouds had finally parted.
Like the future was suddenly bright.
"Alright, that's everything for today," Fiona said with a grin. "Let's go to my place tonight and celebrate. V—and you guys too, come along."
She didn't invite the two chefs.
To Fiona, this moment deserved celebrating—it was a turning point in her life.
"Sure, give me a second," Veronica replied. "I'll wipe down these tables again. Some of them still have dust on them."
Veronica was genuinely invested.
Partly because it was her best friend's business—
and partly because her own future depended on it.
A proper, stable job.
Something Veronica would never have dared to dream about before.
She couldn't help thinking:
Fiona really did find herself a good man.
Before long, the restaurant was spotless.
Everyone headed out.
Fiona pulled out a lock and secured the front door.
She rested her hand against the glass, lingering there for a moment.
Even now, it still felt unreal—like she might wake up any second and discover it was all a dream.
By then, most of the group had already gone ahead.
Max and Snique had gotten the address to 2119 North Wallace and left separately.
The rest walked back together.
Earlier that afternoon, William had quietly restored Lip's impotence condition.
But not before letting Lip and Snique exchange a few charged words.
That alone was enough to stir something Lip hadn't felt in a long time—
confirming his suspicions.
He didn't know why his body had changed.
But one thing was clear now:
He could only respond to Black women.
And so, with interest clearly mutual, the two spent the entire afternoon exchanging glances and flirting openly.
If Fiona hadn't been there, they probably would've gone at it right in the restaurant.
On the walk back, Fiona and William trailed behind the group.
She leaned into his chest, her expression soft and content.
"Thank you, William," she said quietly, unable to stop herself from saying it again.