Chapter 325: Proving What's Real
"Raising children has never been easy," Frank said.
"No, it hasn't," Nando replied. "For her, I've done everything I could. I've exhausted every option to give her a better life. That's why I sent her to the United States."
"I've already arranged for her to attend the University of Chicago, majoring in economics. I want her to become a legitimate American citizen one day."
"All the more reason," Frank said evenly, "that you shouldn't let Ji—Steve—be her husband. Sooner or later, something will go wrong."
Nando narrowed his eyes slightly. "And you have a better candidate?"
Frank didn't hesitate. "What about a cop?"
"A cop?" Nando raised a brow.
"In America, police officers are respected. They have authority. During immigration inspections, things tend to be… more flexible," Frank said calmly.
"You know exactly what I do," Nando replied dryly. "And you're suggesting I make a police officer my son-in-law?"
For a Brazilian drug lord, marrying his daughter to a cop sounded like inviting a cat into a mouse's wedding banquet.
"What's the problem?" Frank shrugged. "Not every cop you meet is incorruptible. And the one I'm recommending? He's green. Ambitious. Easy to steer."
Now that caught Nando's interest.
"That sounds… intriguing. Who?"
"Tony. Patrol officer in the South Side—my neighborhood," Frank said.
Nando shot a glance at one of his men. The subordinate immediately committed the name to memory. A background check would follow.
"And if I agree, but he refuses?" Nando asked.
"I'll persuade him," Frank replied. "If he truly won't cooperate—well, Steve is still right here, isn't he?"
Frank gestured toward Jimmy.
"Whether it works out or not, Steve doesn't disappear. He's not going anywhere."
The implication was clear.
No matter how the arrangement played out, Nando would retain leverage.
And on the deck of the yacht, with the vast waters of Lake Michigan stretching endlessly behind them, the conversation shifted from threats… to strategy.
The two of them went over the finer details for a while longer. Frank could tell—Nando was genuinely tempted.
While they were talking, another yacht approached from the distance.
"Finally," Nando said, watching it draw near.
The two yachts pulled alongside each other, and several men crossed over. The one in front was someone Frank recognized—a local gang leader and one of Heisenberg's direct partners, a first-tier distributor.
When Frank had first worked with him, the man's organization had only been mid-sized. But after becoming a distributor for Blue Angel, the massive profits had fueled explosive growth. His gang was now one of the most powerful in the city.
"Hey, Nando! Long time no see!" The gang boss stepped forward and embraced him.
Then his eyes landed on Frank.
"Heisenberg? Didn't expect to see you here." He froze for half a second, his expression flickering—then quickly recovered, smiling broadly as he greeted Frank with exaggerated warmth.
This gang leader was an old friend of Nando's.
He was the one who had first told Nando how incredible Blue Angel was—how profitable, how unstoppable—and had successfully piqued his interest. In fact, it was largely because of his persuasion that Nando had come to Chicago in the first place.
His plan had been simple: recruit Nando as a downstream distributor. Turn him into a second-tier agent. Open up the Brazilian market. Once that happened, the money would flow like a river in flood.
And truthfully, if Nando hadn't found Heisenberg himself, he would have gone ahead and partnered with him.
But fate had intervened. Through a family mess, Nando had unexpectedly met Frank.
Still, Nando was cautious by nature. He hadn't fully believed Frank's claim to be Heisenberg.
That was why today's meeting had been arranged.
Under the pretense of a leisurely yacht gathering, Nando had invited the gang boss here—to verify Frank's identity.
And the way the gang boss reacted to Frank was proof enough.
But as the conversation flowed politely on the surface, Nando's eyes narrowed slightly.
He had once asked this very man to introduce him to Heisenberg. Promised him generous compensation. Yet the gang boss had insisted he barely knew Heisenberg. Claimed he couldn't get in touch. Said Heisenberg was too mysterious. Offered excuse after excuse.
Now it was obvious.
They weren't unfamiliar at all.
Frank—whom Nando had only met yesterday—had already been thoroughly investigated overnight. The gang boss was a Chicago native power player. There was no way he didn't know Frank.
It was clear: he simply hadn't wanted Nando meeting Heisenberg directly.
Nando understood the motive.
But understanding didn't mean liking it.
He and this man had been close for years—brothers-in-arms. In Brazil, Nando was the heavyweight. In Chicago, the gang boss had once been little more than a mid-tier operator trailing behind him. Nando had supplied him with product at discounted prices. Taken care of him.
Then Blue Angel came along, and the man's fortunes skyrocketed.
When he first told Nando about Blue Angel, Nando had felt touched—thought his old friend hadn't forgotten him after striking gold.
Now he understood.
His "brother" hadn't been sharing opportunity.
He'd been looking to profit off him.
Even if he could rationalize it, the bitterness lingered.
When the gang boss had first stepped onto the yacht and seen Frank standing beside Nando, that brief flicker of shock had said everything. In that instant, he'd understood why he'd been invited today.
Even knowing his plan to turn Nando into his downstream distributor had just evaporated, he could only grit his teeth and keep smiling through the polite small talk.
With the gang boss present, no one mentioned Jimmy. That was family business.
They chatted, ate grilled meat, took turns shooting fruit off the deck—though neither Nando nor Frank hit much of anything. The atmosphere looked lively on the surface. Everyone was smiling.
But underneath, something felt slightly off—like a string pulled too tight.
After food and drinks, they agreed to meet again sometime. The gang boss returned to his yacht and departed.
Once he was gone, Frank turned to Nando.
"Now you're satisfied?"
He'd understood exactly what had been happening.
Nando burst out laughing. "Ha! Sorry, sorry. You know how it is in our line of work—caution above all."
He didn't deny it.
And he no longer doubted who Frank really was.