Chapter 169: A Wounded Fiona
After arranging for Max to keep an eye on the restaurant, William took Fiona back to house 2119.
The moment they stepped inside, they were greeted by the sight of Frank, wearing a miserable expression, hauling Peggy upstairs over his shoulder.
"Wow, Frank… what, are you trying to murder your own mother?" William joked.
Fiona said nothing.
She looked completely drained—like the life had been sucked out of her. There was no light left in her eyes.
"Shut up! I'm just carrying her upstairs for a bath!" Frank snapped, already irritated by William's tone.
"Who told you to talk?! Just get me upstairs already, you useless piece of trash!" Peggy barked, smacking him on the head without hesitation.
---
Once the two of them disappeared up the stairs, William finally turned to Fiona.
"So… Peggy and Frank moved back in?"
Fiona didn't speak, but she gave a faint nod.
Even in her current state, her body still responded on instinct.
William clicked his tongue softly.
Honestly, he wasn't surprised.
With Peggy's personality, Frank's shameless persistence, and Fiona's tendency to soften in the end… it was almost inevitable.
But right now, he had no interest in dealing with them
He guided Fiona upstairs and into her bedroom.
The moment they entered, Fiona stripped off her clothes in a few quick motions and collapsed onto the bed like a lifeless body.
She just wanted an outlet.
Something intense enough to drown out everything inside her.
But this time, William didn't immediately go along with her.
"Wait here," he said softly. "I'll grab something."
Such a perfect opportunity… there was no way he'd waste it.
Pretending to head out to his car, William left the room.
A moment later, he returned—holding the familiar oil-soaked whip.
The moment Fiona saw it, she understood.
This time, there was no hesitation. No resistance.
If anything, she welcomed it—as if this pain was the only way she could release what was tearing her apart inside.
Five hours passed.
By the time it was over, night had fallen.
William was getting dressed when his phone rang.
It was Steve.
Nando… had returned from Brazil.
…wanted to meet him.
William glanced at Fiona lying on the bed—her back marked with streaks of red.
He rubbed his chin.
Why hasn't this damn task been completed yet?
What exactly does it take to "fix" her worldview?
That said… her sense of self had already been almost completely shattered by him.
At this rate, a few more rounds and she'd be nothing more than a puppet—
The kind that moves left or right depending entirely on who's pulling the strings.
In other words, someone who had completely lost control over her own will—someone who needed instructions for everything.
William shook his head.
Whatever. No rush.
He wasn't planning to return to the MCU world anytime soon anyway.
If he gained more abilities, great. If not, it didn't matter.
---
With that thought, he left 2119, got into his AMG, and drove toward a dock by Lake Michigan.
A yacht was already moored there.
Steve stood on the dock, with Nando's man, Ado, beside him.
After getting out of the car, William walked over.
"Go on. Nando's waiting for you upstairs," Ado said calmly when he saw him.
Steve swallowed nervously.
Of course he was nervous—how could he not be?
One was a Brazilian drug lord.
The other, an American arms dealer.
And him? Just a small-time car thief who had somehow wandered into the lions' den.
---
William, on the other hand, remained completely unfazed.
This kind of scene meant nothing to him.
He had already walked through far more dangerous, supernatural worlds.
He stepped onto the gangway with steady composure.
Ado couldn't help but look at him with a bit more respect.
The contrast was simply too stark.
Steve had single-handedly lowered his expectations of Americans.
So William's calm confidence stood out all the more.
---
Soon, they reached the deck.
A large sofa sat near a table piled with fruit.
Estefania lounged there, looking annoyed, while Nando stood nearby—holding a shotgun.
"Throw it!"
he barked.
One of his men grabbed a piece of fruit and tossed it into the air.
Bang!
Nando fired.
Missed.
The fruit splashed into the water.
---
"Sir, your guest has arrived," Ado said in Portuguese.
Nando turned and looked at William.
To be honest, William didn't look like an arms dealer at all.
He appeared refined—almost scholarly.
Aside from his well-built physique, he looked more like an ordinary college student.
"Please, have a seat," Nando said in English.
"Thank you," William replied—in Portuguese.
---
"Hello~"
Estefania had been in a foul mood.
Mark's situation had been exposed the night before, and Nando had come personally to deal with it—killing him on the spot.
She'd been upset ever since.
But the moment she saw William—
her mood improved instantly.
Spoiled as she was, it didn't matter who died, as long as she felt better.
"Hello, beautiful," William greeted her, also in Portuguese.
A flicker of surprise lit up her eyes.
Truth be told, if Steve had just bothered to learn a bit of Portuguese, he might've had a real chance with her.
If he had, once she secured her U.S. status, he could've stayed by her side as her boyfriend.
Even if Nando didn't like him, he wouldn't have done anything.
Of course…
Given Steve's personality, he probably would've cheated eventually anyway.
And in that case—
ending up at the bottom of Lake Michigan would've been his most likely fate.
"You speak Portuguese?" Estefania asked, shifting closer to William.
"Yes, Miss Estefania," William replied with a faint smile.
"You know who I am?" she tilted her head.
She was wearing a bikini—her figure perfectly balanced, curvy in all the right places.
Compared to the sickly obsession with extreme thinness, William much preferred this kind of healthy, full-bodied beauty.
"No choice," William said lightly. "When meeting your father, I had to do my homework."
Only then did he turn his gaze toward Nando.
In truth, Nando had already grown slightly displeased.
This kid's eyes had been lingering on his daughter the whole time.
What exactly was he thinking?