Chapter 210: Money
"I was only gone for a while. I'm not dead. This isn't a dream."
Frank hugged Sheila tightly as she sobbed uncontrollably, gently comforting her.
"Frank, Dad!"
Karen rushed through the door and threw herself into Frank's arms, equally stunned and overjoyed.
"Look who's back. So beautiful. Is this really our little Karen?"
Frank looked her over with admiration flashing in his eyes.
In just six months, Karen had changed a lot.
She'd always been cute and sweet-looking, but no matter how you saw her before, she was still a kid.
Now, with light makeup and a smart, stylish outfit, she didn't look like a student anymore—but like a grown woman, someone already part of the real world.
Her appearance hadn't changed dramatically, but her whole demeanor was completely different—like she was an entirely new person.
That night, Frank didn't go home. Instead, he stayed at Sheila's place.
The next morning after breakfast, Frank headed to the train station briefly before finally driving back to his house.
Since it was summer vacation, the kids weren't in school—but none of them were at home either. Everyone had their own things going on.
"Here, this is for you."
Fiona handed Frank a bank card.
Frank recognized it immediately—it was his. He'd kept it in a box, but after Sheila assumed he was dead, she had passed the box to Fiona. The card had essentially become part of his "estate" and remained with Fiona.
Now that Frank was back, Fiona returned it without hesitation. She hadn't tried to claim the money for herself—even though there were tens of thousands in that account.
"I haven't touched a cent," Fiona said.
"Keep it," Frank replied.
"And not just that—take this too. Find a place to hide it."
He handed her a black backpack.
"What's—where the hell did you get all this!?"
Fiona opened the bag, stunned to find it packed with cash. Her eyes widened as she flipped through it in disbelief.
"You didn't rob a bank, did you? How much is this?"
She pulled out a few bills and checked—real money.
"Two hundred thousand. I didn't rob anyone. Like I said, I've been doing some business these past few months."
Frank explained.
This was his share of the profits. He hadn't touched Walt's or Pinkman's cut—he'd only taken his own portion home.
"What kind of business makes this kind of money?"
Fiona was understandably skeptical.
"You don't need to know the details. Just hide it. Make sure no one finds it."
Frank insisted.
"Hide it? Why not just deposit it in a bank? This money... is it even clean?"
Fiona caught on quickly.
"We pay for everything in cash anyway," Frank said dismissively.
"This is dirty money. I can't take it."
Fiona zipped the bag shut and handed it back to Frank without a second thought. Not even the slightest flicker of greed showed in her eyes.
Despite growing up learning to con, scam, and steal—thanks to "Frank's" early teachings—Fiona knew where to draw the line. Petty theft was one thing. But this? Two hundred grand in illegal money could tear everything apart if things went wrong.
She had fought hard to bring the family back together. She wasn't about to risk destroying it all over again.
"As long as it stays hidden, there won't be any trouble."
Frank tried to reassure her.
But Fiona stood firm, shaking her head. She absolutely refused to take it.
"Fine, then just keep the bank card."
Frank relented.
Fiona hesitated, but since the money in the account was clean—and Frank insisted—she eventually accepted it.
"By the way, after Monica came back… what has she been up to?"
Frank quickly shifted the subject.
"She's been a total nightmare."
The moment Fiona brought up Monica, her tone shifted, tinged with barely-contained anger. She recounted all of Monica's reckless behavior over the past few weeks.
"She what? Took Ian to enlist in the army?!"
Frank had kept a straight face through most of it, but at that part, his brows furrowed deeply.
"I'll have a little talk with her," he said grimly.
"Oh, right—about your cancer…"
Now that she'd gotten all her frustration off her chest, Fiona felt a bit lighter. She suddenly remembered something and hesitated.
"It's nothing serious," Frank waved it off.
"Did you even get it properly checked out? We called the doctor—she said you never came in for follow-up tests."
Fiona asked.
"Cancer's a scam. Do I look like I have cancer? That diagnosis was fake. I made it up. You still don't get it?"
Frank said flatly.
"You faked it? Seriously?"
Fiona was skeptical, but not entirely surprised.
"Of course."
Frank nodded.
If anyone else had said that, Fiona would never have believed it.
But coming from Frank? Given his long history of lies and schemes, the idea that he forged cancer test results to gain sympathy—just to stay at Sheila's place—was… completely plausible.
"Alright, stop overthinking. Let's talk about Jimmy instead,"
Frank said, changing the subject again.
"Jimmy? Who's Jimmy?"
Fiona asked reflexively.
"What? You don't know who Jimmy is?"
Frank was stunned.
"Should I?" Fiona frowned.
"Steve."
Frank clarified.
"What about Steve?" Fiona asked.
"Steve is Jimmy,"
Frank said.
"Huh?"
Fiona blinked, now fully distracted from the cancer topic.
"You heard me. Steve is Jimmy. Steve's just an alias. You really didn't know?"
Frank looked confused.
"I had no idea. His real name's Jimmy? Steve's a fake name?"
Fiona looked stunned.
"Wait a second—if you didn't know that, then that night, when you said 'I told someone Steve's secret'... what were you referring to?"
Frank asked.
He meant the night he got kicked out of the house.
"I meant the car theft. Steve said you told Tony he was stealing cars. Tony caught him red-handed and threatened to turn him in unless he left Chicago."
Fiona explained.
.