Chapter 191: The Gift
"Who's Monica?"
"She's Fiona's mom. Frank's wife."
"Frank has a wife? I thought she ran off ages ago. She's back now?"
"Yeah."
"And what about Roberta? From the way you talk, it sounds like she's been stirring up trouble."
"Roberta is Monica's girlfriend."
"Wait a sec. Isn't Monica Frank's wife?"
"Uh-huh."
"So let me get this straight—Roberta is the girlfriend of Frank's wife? That's the relationship?"
"Yup."
"But Monica is also Fiona and the others' mom, right? Why would she report her own family to the authorities?"
"Because she wanted to take Liam away, and Fiona wouldn't let her."
"This is getting messy… And where the hell is Frank in all this? He just lets it all happen?"
"He's dead."
"Frank's dead?!"
Jimmy was catching up with Officer Tony, trying to piece together what had happened in the six months he'd been gone.
Originally, Jimmy just wanted to know how Fiona's love life had been during that time. And when it came to Fiona's relationships, only two people truly knew the details—Veronica, her best friend, and Officer Tony, the eternal backup plan who'd always wanted to move up in Fiona's heart.
But Jimmy hadn't expected this much drama in just half a year. It was hard to wrap his head around it all.
Meanwhile, he didn't notice that Officer Tony's eyes kept drifting toward the bedroom as they talked.
Then Jimmy paused, suddenly remembering something. "Oh, hang on a sec."
"Huh?" Tony snapped his gaze away from the bedroom, startled by Jimmy's voice.
Jimmy walked over to a cabinet, opened it, pulled out a few things, and stuffed them into a thick envelope.
"This is a gift for you," he said, handing it to Tony. The envelope was bulky—obviously filled with cash.
"I don't take bribes," Tony said, frowning.
"This isn't a bribe. I said it's a gift. I know about your situation—you recently moved out of your parents' house, didn't you?"
"You've been looking into me?" Tony's pupils contracted slightly.
Tony was a local from the South Side. Growing up in a neighborhood like this, it wasn't hard to imagine his background—working class, maybe worse. Even though he'd become a cop, his salary still wasn't enough to buy a home. It would take years of saving. That's why he'd stayed with his parents until recently.
This is one of those big cultural gaps between East and West. In the East, it's perfectly normal for adults to live with their parents even after marriage—assuming everyone gets along. Parents usually pitch in for a house too.
But in the West, it's different. The mindset is that once you're an adult, you should move out and live on your own. Staying with your parents past college? That's seen as mooching, as being a failure.
And when it comes to buying property, Western parents rarely help. You're expected to save up on your own. Maybe they'll throw in a little if you're on good terms, but don't count on it.
Take Walter, for example. He bought his house with his own savings. His parents didn't give him a dime. He's in his 50s now and still hasn't paid off his mortgage.
Tony had finally saved up enough to rent his own place. And anyone who's worked away from home knows the struggle: half your paycheck goes to rent, the rest barely covers food and basic expenses. Saving money? Forget about it.
That was Tony's situation. Despite being a cop—which sounds respectable—his pay was average at best. After rent, utilities, and the occasional hangout with friends, he was living paycheck to paycheck.
"Don't be so tense," Jimmy said casually. "I mean, you've got dirt on me from before. Of course I'm going to keep tabs on you."
"And FYI, even if you wanted to use that stolen car thing to put me behind bars, it's not happening. I've cleaned up my tracks. Worst case? Forty-eight hours in holding."
"What's your point?" Tony asked.
"My point is—we don't have beef anymore. We're not enemies. We could even be friends. And this"—he patted the envelope now in Tony's hand—"this is just a friendly gift."
Tony opened his mouth to speak, but when he felt the thickness of the envelope, he hesitated.
"Don't overthink it. Call it a donation if it helps—like a community support fund? Morale boost? Whatever you like."
"You've been a cop for a couple years now. Don't tell me you still think your salary's supposed to be your only income," Jimmy said, grinning.
Why did so many people want to become cops? Because cops have power. And power means money. That's a universal truth.
In America, cops don't make real money from their base salary—it's the extra income that counts. It's common knowledge, just like how people give gifts to teachers, red envelopes to doctors, or bribes to officials.
Of course, officially, all that's frowned upon. Everyone preaches integrity and ethics. But in reality, people have been greasing palms for thousands of years.
If a relative is in surgery, are you really not going to slip the doctor a red envelope? Can you honestly feel at ease without it? Not anxious? Not worried?
Same thing with schools. What parent doesn't send a gift to the teacher? The internet is full of stories of parents bending over backward for them.
It's the same for cops—especially American ones. This is a capitalist country, where money rules everything.
That said, there's a line. Don't be greedy. A little on the side now and then—nobody cares. Everyone turns a blind eye. Even the higher-ups won't say a word, because they're making even more.
But if you get too greedy—take too much, get in bed with gangs, become a full-on shield for the underworld—and worse, get exposed? Then you're done for.
Tony had been a cop for two years. He knew how things worked. Even if he had been naïve at first, his older colleagues would've shown him the ropes. After all, sharing the wealth keeps the team together.
And yes, Tony had pocketed some cash here and there thanks to his position. Everyone else was doing it—if you didn't, you'd be the odd one out, socially isolated.
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