In just a few days, after shuttling back and forth between Havana multiple tis, Pierre felt physically and ntally exhausted.
After all, even an iron man would find it taxing to spend more than ten hours a day flying in the sky.
Even though his LV.3 spatial ability could temporarily double its capacity, each trip still couldn't transport more than a re twenty thousand tons of sugar. If he wanted to stockpile enough supplies before leaving the United States, he would have to make several more trips.
To improve efficiency, Pierre even rented over a dozen warehouses in Florida to store the goods.
As for the subsequent transportation and transactions, they could all be handled in Florida.
The flight from Havana to Florida took about two hours.
Three flights a day.
That was about sixteen hours in total.
He could only manage a little over fifty thousand tons a day.
There was no other way—he just had to fly more trips.
For a whole week, Pierre spent almost all his ti on the plane. By the ti he returned to New York, feeling worn out from hauling cargo nonstop, he hadn't even had a chance to rest when he received a phone call.
So debts always have to be repaid.
But so debts are truly hard to pay back!
For example, debts of the heart.
Emotional debts are the hardest to repay.
Standing by the small lake in Central Park, Pierre watched the girl who was intently feeding the pigeons.
Laurette, after disappearing for over a month, had co to New York once again.
And at this mont, she had asked to et him.
Pierre's heart skipped a beat. No way, that day nothing actually happened...
"You're not..."
Sensing sothing, Laurette's pretty face instantly turned red. She hurriedly said,
"I'm not..."
But as the words reached her lips, Laurette felt even more embarrassed. She pouted and said angrily,
"You! You really drive crazy..."
With that, she threw a handful of birdseed. As the pigeons scrambled for food, she said,
"I don't know why everyone thinks you're so great—Heidi, Ava... I really wonder how many won you actually have."
At the mont, there were probably two more in London: Stana and Jilly...
In France, it seed he hadn't had the chance.
"Even my father thinks highly of you. He thinks you're a good match."
ntioning her father's opinion of him, Laurette couldn't help but complain,
"He says you're young, handso, a war hero, and claims you're the dream partner of most won... Hmph!"
Laurette looked at the man beside her. The sunlight illuminated his face, his chiseled features like a sculpture, thick eyebrows, large eyes... He really was handso!
Although she admitted her father was right, still, she had to be decisive.
He was a playboy—she absolutely couldn't fall for his tricks.
Today, Laurette wore a plaid tweed coat, a small felt hat, a black leather crossbody bag, and brown ankle boots—a thoroughly youthful look that made Pierre steal a few extra glances.
Right now, her angry expression made her look even cuter.
"So, you have to tell him that you... don't like , understand?"
As she spoke, Laurette's clear, bright eyes darted around, not quite eting his.
Yes, as long as she didn't look at him, she could ignore his face.
"Uh..."
Pierre thought for a mont and said,
"I don't think I know your father."
Who's your dad, anyway?
"You'll et him soon enough. Just rember—you must turn him down! Got it?"
Turning her head, Laurette looked quietly at Pierre, her cool gaze flashing with determination, leaving Pierre completely bewildered.
This was the first ti he'd encountered sothing like this.
"Miss, what if I don't refuse?"
"Ah!"
Laurette was stunned. She reached out, pointing at him with her slender, jade-like fingers, her eyes sparkling.
"Then you'll regret it! I won't let you have any lovers, and I'll take Heidi and Ava away from you. And I... hmm, I'll do all of that!"
Her threat nearly made Pierre burst out laughing.
"So, are you scared now?"
Laurette's eyes sparkled, her petite face full of pride.
Threat successful—plus ten points!
But more than the threat, Pierre waHow ordinary could she be?
s curious—who exactly was her father?
A child from an ordinary family.
About an hour later, Pierre finally understood just how "ordinary" her family was.
"Thank you for taking care of Laurette all this ti."
Looking at Pierre, the Duke's mood was complicated. His daughter had grown up, so he'd been searching for a suitable son-in-law. He'd hesitated among several candidates, but after eting Pierre last year, he'd set his sights on this young man.
Not because he was rich.
But because his achievents were sothing most people could never reach in a lifeti—that was last year. Now, Pierre's status was even more unattainable.
He was, without a doubt, an excellent match!
So, it was from that mont on that, in his eyes, this fellow was no longer just a business partner—but a future son-in-law.
"Uh, I didn't expect Lautrey to be your daughter."
Pierre truly hadn't expected it. He'd heard about the Kong family's daughter and how domineering she was supposed to be, but Lautrey? She seed like an ordinary girl from a regular family, without a trace of arrogance or spoiled behavior.
That was exactly why he had never connected her to the man before him, the Imperial Uncle.
"Nine years ago, I sent her and her sisters to the United States to stay with relatives. Very few people know that Lautrey is my daughter. I never discuss official matters at ho, so she only knows as her father and is basically unaware of anything else—especially after she went to Arica."
Well, this family's way of raising children was certainly unusual. No wonder Lautrey believed herself to be the child of an ordinary family. She might be a lady of a prominent house, but she was more like the girl next door.
Alright, he had to admit, the Imperial Uncle's parenting style wasn't bad at all—at least he hadn't raised a spoiled, overbearing young lady.
"I heard you're heading to Europe soon?"
"Yes, I'll be leaving in the next few days. The troops will rendezvous in North Africa, then travel by ship to Australia."
As Pierre explained his itinerary, the Imperial Uncle rely nodded slightly and said:
"Be careful on the road. By the way, there's been a lot of dissatisfaction at ho about your recruitnt of soldiers under the guise of laborers. But don't worry, I've already taken care of it for you. This is a critical ti—no one at ho will make a fuss over minor issues. If you need help in the future, just send soone to let know."
The Imperial Uncle's words left Pierre montarily stunned.
His attitude was completely different from before!
Could it be that he really saw him as a son-in-law now? But, your daughter doesn't seem willing!
Thinking of Lautrey's warnings, Pierre wanted to say sothing, but couldn't find the chance—after all, the man hadn't even brought it up.
Although he was a bit uneasy, Pierre certainly wouldn't refuse the Imperial Uncle's help. After all, he really did need soone to assist him back ho, and the Imperial Uncle's influence was enough to smooth over many things. With his support, future immigration efforts would be much easier—having such a big shot on your side was a world apart from handling things on your own.
Sigh, for now, it was best to play dumb.
Having made up his mind, Pierre feigned ignorance, while the Imperial Uncle continued:
"Pierre, when your troops head to the front, you'll definitely need dical staff. Are you fully staffed? There will inevitably be casualties on the battlefield, so you must make sure you have enough dical personnel."
"Besides the army's existing dical officers, I've also recruited a number of doctors in France and Italy. Most of the nurses are military spouses. We're still a bit short-handed, but I plan to recruit more once we reach France."
The Imperial Uncle nodded and said:
"That's good. Lautrey has already resigned from her company. She received dical training in Washington, so why not let her serve in the army? She may be a woman, but as a ww2 woman, she should do her part for the war effort!"
The Imperial Uncle's words left Pierre speechless. Serve in the army… as a nurse?
Is this for real…?
Who's really pulling the strings here, ha ha…
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