Chapter 199 — Not a Word Out of Estefania Is Fully Trustworthy
Failing to secure another order from Nando didn't bother William in the slightest—he had only mentioned it casually anyway.
"Then this deal is settled. A pleasure doing business," Nando said, extending his hand.
William shook it with a faint smile. "Likewise."
With the transaction complete, William was about to leave with the briefcase—
But Nando stopped him.
"Estefania has something she wants to talk to you about. We'll take our leave."
He gave William a pat on the shoulder, wearing the unmistakable expression of a father approving of a prospective son-in-law.
Nearby, Estefania bit her lip and glanced at William.
Steve stood off to the side, clearly uncomfortable. He felt humiliated—but there was nothing he could do.
He couldn't oppose Nando.
He couldn't oppose William either.
And lately… he wasn't even capable of much else.
William swept his gaze across the room, understanding immediately. He gave a small nod.
Soon, Nando dragged Steve out with him, leaving the apartment.
Now—
Only William and Estefania remained.
"So… it's just the two of us now."
The moment the door closed, Estefania wasted no time. She slipped off her robe and settled herself onto William's lap, her movements bold and unrestrained.
Her warm, wheat-toned skin carried a faint scent of body wash.
William wrapped an arm around her slender waist without hesitation.
"Your father… is he trying to use you to build a relationship with me?"
He leaned in slightly, breathing in her scent.
Estefania shrugged lightly.
"No idea. Probably."
She truly didn't care.
Whether her father was using her or not—it didn't matter.
All she cared about was how she felt when she was with William.
Everything else?
Not worth a single thought.
William shook his head with a faint chuckle.
"You really don't think much, do you?"
He wasn't wrong.
Estefania lived entirely in the moment—no plans, no caution, no foresight.
But to William?
That didn't matter.
He wasn't here for her future.
Only the present.
With a firm grip on her waist, he lifted her effortlessly.
The sudden weightlessness made her gasp—then laugh, bright and unrestrained.
The room quickly filled with that carefree energy of hers.
Moments later, she began tugging at his clothes, pulling him closer.
One hand traced along his cheek, her gaze unfocused yet intent.
"You're… really handsome."
The words slipped out naturally, almost unconsciously.
William smiled faintly. "And you're beautiful."
"Really?"
She pulled him closer again, pressing him against her, as if seeking confirmation beyond words.
William didn't answer with speech.
Instead, he responded in his own way.
Before long, he carried her into the bedroom.
Estefania lay back on the bed, her eyes hazy, her posture openly inviting.
With a subtle motion of her fingers, she beckoned him closer—
More daring, more uninhibited than anyone he had been with before.
What followed—
Faded into the quiet blur of a night lived entirely in the moment.
A few hours later, Estefania curled up in William's arms, lazily tracing circles across the muscles of his chest with her fingertip.
"William… why don't you move in here? I feel like I can't stay away from you anymore."
She looked up at him, eyes full of expectation.
That was never going to happen.
William still had his eyes on the Gallagher family—living in the North Side would only make things inconvenient.
He shook his head.
Estefania pouted immediately. "Then… I'll move in with you?"
William let out a quiet laugh, reaching up to pat her head.
"Estefania… we're just sleeping together. What's this? Don't tell me you've fallen for me."
She rolled her eyes at him—but then, unexpectedly, her expression turned a little serious.
"I think I have."
If someone like Amanda or Bianca had said that, maybe it would've carried some weight.
But Estefania?
Not really.
"Sure. If you say so."
William didn't dwell on it. He simply caught her hands again, and the two slipped right back into their own rhythm.
…
Another three hours passed before William finally left her apartment.
Outside, the sky was pitch black.
It was already past nine at night.
His stomach growled.
Hungry, he stopped by a random place nearby and grabbed something to eat.
—
Meanwhile, at 2119.
Inside the Gallagher house—
Frank and Monica were still passed out on the living room floor.
Exhausted from the day, Fiona returned home carrying Liam, with Lip following behind her.
"Holy shit… what happened to them?"
Lip had been stuck washing dishes in the kitchen all day—he had no idea what had gone down.
Walking in and seeing both of them unconscious on the floor was a shock.
"What does it look like? OD."
Fiona's voice was flat, emotionless.
"Fuck… shouldn't we take them to the hospital?"
Lip asked, frowning.
"If you want to, go ahead. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep."
Fiona didn't even spare him another look.
She carried Liam upstairs.
Lip hesitated for a moment—but in the end, he didn't move.
When it came to Frank and Monica, he had nothing but bad memories.
Out of sight, out of mind.
He shook his head and followed Fiona upstairs.
—
After a while—
Peggy Gallagher slowly made her way downstairs, trembling with each step.
She hadn't moved much all day, and Frank hadn't bothered to check on her either.
Now she was up—planning to drag that useless son of hers over.
No one knew how to torment Frank quite like Peggy.
But before she could even get into her wheelchair—
She noticed the two bodies sprawled across the living room.
She walked over and checked them.
Still breathing.
Still unconscious.
She clicked her tongue.
"Useless pieces of trash. Fuck."
Then she raised her voice—
"Get up! Frank! I need a bath! Move your ass, you rotten piece of shit!"
Thud!
Her cane came down hard—smacking against Frank's head.
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