Chapter 334: Persuasion
"Damn it! Damn it!"
Walter broke out in a cold sweat. Lights were turning on in nearby houses. Dogs were barking. He scrambled to his feet, rushed back to the revolver lying on the ground, snatched it up, and bolted for his car. Within seconds, he was driving away from the scene as fast as he dared.
Only after putting a good distance between himself and the neighborhood did he finally slow down and pull over.
He slumped in the driver's seat, chest heaving.
His eyes drifted to the revolver on the passenger seat.
He picked it up, raised it toward the window—about to throw it out.
But after a long pause, his hand slowly lowered.
Instead, he pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket. His fingers trembled as he flicked the lighter and lit it.
Walter had just beaten lung cancer. He shouldn't have been smoking.
In fact, he'd never been much of a smoker before.
But lately—after everything—he'd developed the habit.
He exhaled a long stream of white smoke. Gradually, the shaking in his hands subsided.
After finishing the cigarette, he drove home, hid the gun back in its place, then went to his daughter's room. She was sleeping peacefully.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
Walter didn't return to his bedroom. He sat in a chair beside the crib and watched her sleep until the first rays of morning sunlight slipped through the window.
---
"Wake up… you've been here all night?" Skyler's voice stirred him from the shallow sleep he'd fallen into.
"Hm? Oh… I didn't want her crying to wake you again," Walter said quickly, regaining clarity.
"But you can't sleep sitting up in a chair," Skyler scolded gently.
No one knew what he had wrestled with that night. No one knew how close he had come to crossing a line he could never return from.
---
Frank, of course, knew nothing about Walter's near disaster.
Although Frank had begun seriously considering washing his hands of everything—retiring for good—there were still matters he had to settle.
Jimmy's situation, for one.
Even if Heisenberg shut down, even if the potential partnership with Nando fell apart, Jimmy's problem remained.
After all, Fiona—his precious Fiona—was practically tied to Jimmy.
And Jimmy was still legally married.
Yes, the marriage certificate was under his fake identity "Steve," while his real identity, Jimmy, remained legally single. Technically, he could marry Fiona under his real name and avoid a bigamy charge—so long as the truth never surfaced.
But with Jimmy's reckless, unstable personality, trouble was inevitable.
Nando had barely returned to Brazil before Jimmy moved right back into Frank's house, leaving his wife alone without a second thought.
Had he learned nothing?
At this rate, if one day Nando's men kidnapped Jimmy, dismembered him, and dumped him into the ocean, Frank wouldn't even be surprised.
The only one he'd feel sorry for would be Fiona.
---
"What? Why are you staring at me like that?" Jimmy asked, rubbing his face, puzzled.
"Nothing," Frank replied bluntly. "I just don't understand. My Fiona is beautiful, capable, amazing. What the hell does she see in you? What exactly is your redeeming quality?"
Jimmy grinned. "Because I'm handsome. And I've got skills."
Frank shook his head. "Let's go."
"Go where?"
"To see Tony."
---
Frank had decided to pay a visit to Officer Tony.
The plan? Convince Tony to become Jimmy's replacement in Nando's eyes.
Of course, they couldn't just lay everything out in the open. That would never work. It would require probing, testing, careful maneuvering.
But when Frank had suggested Tony to Nando earlier, it hadn't been a random impulse.
He'd thought it through.
Frank had worked alongside Tony a few times. They'd talked. Built some rapport.
And during those conversations, Tony had brought up Jimmy more than once.
After all, they'd once been rivals in love. Jimmy had made sure to needle him about it.
Which meant Tony wasn't indifferent.
And that made him… useful.
Whenever Jimmy came up in conversation, Officer Tony would—almost unconsciously—bring up Jimmy's wife as well.
The fiery Brazilian girl.
Tony himself didn't seem to notice the pattern.
But Frank did.
Frank also noticed something else: Tony had started complaining more and more about his current situation.
When the actress Frank had arranged for him broke up with him, who knew what she had said?
Maybe something like:
"I want to rise above this life, and you? You're just a broken bird's nest. You can't give me a future. Love without money is like sand—you can't hold onto it."
Whatever the exact words were, they had clearly struck a nerve.
Tony had changed.
He wanted a promotion.
He wanted a raise.
He resented how little he earned.
That breakup probably forced him to confront reality.
Yes, he was a sworn officer.
Yes, he had a respectable job.
Yes, he had a bit of authority, and in the South Side, people envied him.
But in the broader world?
He was still at the bottom.
Just another patrol cop.
And in the South Side of all places.
Unless something drastic changed, that was likely how his entire life would play out.
No matter how many years he served, he'd probably never make it into upper management.
Just look at Officer Eddie—now working as a bounty hunter. How many years had Eddie worn the badge? And what had he become? Still just a foot soldier.
But if Tony quit and tried to start over somewhere else? Or moved to another city?
He might end up worse off.
And if he resigned, that door would likely close forever.
After weighing all of that, Frank concluded that Tony was a far better candidate than Jimmy. Far more stable. Far more suitable.
---
After several days of subtle probing, Tony gradually began to understand what Frank and Jimmy were suggesting.
"You want me to marry that Brazilian girl?" Tony frowned.
"Yes," Frank replied calmly. "It doesn't have to be forever. Two years is enough. She gets U.S. citizenship. After that, you can divorce her anytime. Or, if you want to stay married, that's your choice."
"You've met her, right? According to Jimmy, you have. She's not ugly—in fact, she's very attractive. She's studying economics at the University of Chicago. She's more than presentable."
Tony didn't look convinced.
"But she's a major drug lord's daughter."
"Exactly," Frank said. "That's why this is an opportunity."
Tony's expression darkened.
"You really want to spend your whole life as an ordinary cop?" Frank pressed. "Stuck in the South Side? No real future? No real rise?"
"You don't want to climb higher?"
"Don't you want to be precinct captain? Maybe police chief? You could even run for city council someday."
Tony didn't answer immediately.
But his eyes flickered.
And Frank knew—he had hit something real.