The next day, William drove to the Four Seasons Hotel in London early in the morning, picking up Abigail, who was dressed to the nines, and headed toward the Royal Ascot Racecourse. Today was the day of the St. Leger Stakes, the final race of the British Triple Crown.
The St. Leger Stakes is a 2,936-meter middle-distance race, a length that favored Chitu, the three-year-old horse with the greatest endurance, which was also the reason Chitu's head trainer, Old Neil, insisted on entering the race.
As soon as William entered the racecourse lobby, he spotted Wilson standing with his younger brother Harry and some other young people, chatting and laughing.
Always keeping an eye on the entrance, Wilson immediately led Harry over when he saw William walk in. After the customary greetings, Wilson complained, "William, you really don't know how to treat your friends. You entered a Triple Crown race without even telling me. We wouldn't have known if Harry hadn't seen it in the news."
"Exactly," 15-year-old Harry chimed in, annoyed. "And worse, you and Wilson went to nightclubs and on a yacht without inviting me."
"Come on now. If I invited you, your mother would've scolded me endlessly. You can go to a nightclub once you turn 18 like Wilson. But if you're interested in horseback riding or hunting, I could invite you to Devonshire Castle when you're on break."
"No need to wait. How about in the next couple of days?" Harry said, grinning. "Otherwise, I'll have to wait a long time. By the time I'm on break, it'll already be winter, and there won't be any game to hunt."
William glanced at Wilson, wondering what had gotten into Harry.
Wilson shrugged and gave William a subtle look, whispering, "Sorry, Harry caught me handling an antiques deal. Seeing me make loads of money while he could only watch really frustrated him. So, be careful about inviting him to your castle. He might end up raiding your collection."
William immediately understood that this wasn't just a matter of being caught—it was more like being coerced into a partnership. "Alright, Harry, I'll offer you the same deal I gave Wilson."
"Haha, no problem. Thanks, bro!" Harry laughed and gave William a brief hug, knowing William wasn't fond of long embraces. "Don't worry, I know plenty of noble kids whose families aren't doing so well financially. But, William, could I get paid directly in commission? You know, I'm only 15, and my family won't let me start a business selling bulletproof suits."
"No way. Don't even think about it. I don't want any trouble," William firmly rejected. "You could partner with Wilson, though. The two of you could pool together £500,000 and hand it over to Abigail. That way, you'll make money faster."
"No problem. You're the boss; whatever you say goes," Wilson said, shrugging with a playful grin as he turned to Abigail and said, "Please take care of us, Miss Abigail."
Abigail smiled and nodded. "You're too kind, Your Highness. It's a pleasure to work with you."
With the business settled, Wilson gave Harry a look and said, "Harry, take care of the friends over there for me. I've got some things to discuss with William."
"Sure, no problem. You go do your thing," Harry said, happy with his side deal. He knew he was too young to hang out with William and quickly said his goodbyes before returning to his friends.
Ignoring the eager eyes of those trying to get close to him, William took Abigail's hand and led Wilson directly to the VIP suite.
Once inside, Wilson sighed in relief, "Thank God you understood my hint. You don't know how Harry has been holding this over my head, threatening to snitch unless I agreed to his demands."
"Please, I know your father. If you didn't want to agree, even if Harry told on you, it wouldn't matter," William scoffed, rolling his eyes. "But seriously, mate, I've got to hand it to you. In just a few days, you've managed to find five or six antique pieces worth over a million pounds each."
"Hehe, if it weren't for Miss Abigail and those experts being overwhelmed and uninterested in anything under a million, I'd have made a lot more money by now," Wilson grumbled as he accepted the glass of whiskey William poured him. "Honestly, if you're short on appraisers, I can help you out, or you could hire more experts from China. You're costing me a lot of potential earnings."
William glanced at Abigail. She held onto his arm and said, "Wilson has indeed found a number of genuine pieces, though of a lower caliber. Besides rare and unique items, I don't recommend acquiring more. We already have too many duplicate porcelain pieces, and I don't see much point in adding to the collection.
"Moreover, we're overwhelmed. The Duke of Devon alone sent over 10,000 items, and Baron Daniel Cabore sent nearly 3,000 more. After nearly two weeks, we've only authenticated about 13% of them. And that's just the rare items. We haven't even double-checked the ordinary antiques. Some of them are in urgent need of restoration. Also, when are you planning to build the museum? The first basement vault of the Bank of England is almost full."
"Don't worry. Besides watching the Chitu race today, I also came to finalize the museum and new stadium projects," William said, smiling as he looked at Wilson.
Wilson hesitated. "William, are you really planning to give most of the project to Chinese companies? As a friend and partner, I have to warn you that during this stock market crisis, if you don't leave the contracts to English companies, you'll invite a lot of unnecessary trouble."
William scoffed. "I'd love to keep it local, but do you know the budget they gave me? These crooks think I'm an easy target. Not only is their estimate 40% higher than mine, but they also want four years to complete the project. I'd be crazy to hire them."
"Alright, I brought the people you asked for. I'll leave you to your business," Wilson said, resigned.
"No need," William chuckled. "Since we're bound to upset some people anyway, I'm sure there are folks in your network who wouldn't mind making some money on materials or small subcontracting jobs, right?"
"Of course," Wilson replied with a wide grin. "I knew you were a smart guy. Those big construction companies may seem impressive, but even their influence doesn't extend to every construction and materials company across England. Plus, they can't match your financial power. But if you want speed, it'll cost you extra."
"I get it. I know it'll cost more. As long as it's reasonable, I'm willing to pay," William said, feigning reluctance. But in reality, he understood perfectly that completing the project within two years, even if it cost an extra £100 million, would still be far more profitable than finishing it in four years.
Reflecting on the cost overruns faced by projects like Arsenal's Emirates Stadium and Wembley Stadium, William realized just how valuable time was, especially during a financial crisis. Saving time meant making a lot more money.
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