Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet

Whether or not England Grid would become a junk stock was something William couldn't determine just yet, but he had no intention of passing up the chance to make its stock price plummet. As for the financial losses involved, he was more than willing to look the other way.

"Without leaving any trace, lock down the grid company's control program and keep London in a blackout for three days."

"Understood, Sir," Sunday responded. After a few seconds, she continued, "I've planted a 72-hour countdown virus in England Grid's mainframe through Barkawi's servers. Once the time expires, the program will self-destruct, and power can be restored immediately."

"Excellent," William murmured, lounging in the bathtub and thinking over his next steps. "Once power is restored, quietly release some articles questioning the safety of a unified power transmission system under England Grid. I want to erode public confidence in England Grid as much as possible and drive its stock price down."

"Understood, Sir. Task accepted."

"Good." William was going over additional details when he heard light footsteps outside. Extending his senses, he quickly recognized Abigail approaching with a tray.

"Honey," Abigail called out from outside the bathroom, "are you in there? Lunch is ready."

When she didn't hear a response, she quickly set down the tray and hurriedly opened the bathroom door.

Seeing William lying in the bathtub as though he was asleep, she finally relaxed, relieved that he hadn't gone off to do something dangerous.

As she stepped into the bathroom, she muttered, "Asleep?" Walking up to the tub, she noticed the temperature control light was on and checked the water to make sure it was warm. Satisfied, she sat by the tub, watching him intently.

"You reckless troublemaker."

The image of two assassins disguised as lobster deliverymen pointing guns at William earlier flashed in her mind, sending a pang of fear through her chest. The memory of William swiftly shooting down the assailants and saving Philip and Agnes had left her shaken, and she'd collapsed onto the couch in shock.

All the feelings—fear, anxiety, relief—had overwhelmed her, leaving her blushing with her face buried in her hands.

Now, as she watched William resting in the tub, a blush crept over her face again. "Idiot," she muttered softly.

They moved to the bedroom and, after some affectionate laughter, sat down to have lunch. After eating, they decided to take a nap. Just then, Sunday's voice echoed in the bedroom, "Sir, the Church is on the satellite line. They say it's urgent."

Before William could respond, Abigail hugged him tightly, and William immediately said, "Tell them I'm not available."

A call from the Church at this moment could only mean they wanted William to rescue Benjamin Arthur. But rescuing someone now was not in William's best interest. If he stepped in too soon, it would dilute the impact and further provoke Barkawi and his family, potentially causing them to escalate their attacks.

If those lunatics dared to bring down three Marine One helicopters with shoulder-fired missiles, there was no telling what they might do next—possibly even launching a direct assault on his estate with missiles.

Although William had full confidence in Sunday and the estate's defenses, his private missile system would undoubtedly be exposed if he used it to counter incoming attacks.

"Understood, Sir."

While William had his own reasons for refusing the request, Abigail misinterpreted it as him protecting her from worry. Overcome with emotion, she planted several kisses on his lips.

About ten minutes later, Sunday's voice sounded in the room again. "Sir, I think you should see this."

"Huh?" William, who had planned on taking a nap to prepare for potential trouble that night, understood something was amiss. He shrugged at Abigail. "You heard that. Something's come up."

After hesitating briefly, Abigail nodded and held his hand. "Dear, if it's not absolutely necessary, please don't do it yourself. Let your people handle it."

"Alright, alright," he reassured her, kissing her on the cheek. "I value my life a lot more than you might think. I won't take on anything I'm not sure about." He then headed downstairs to the basement.

Seated on the couch, William activated the virtual projection table. Two images appeared before him: one of the Church and another of a heavy-set man.

"Sir, the men in these photos are the Church and Ray Munroe, the deputy head of the CIA in the U.S. I detected this because the Church subtly tapped out a Morse code message on his phone, which you gifted him, while speaking with Ray Munroe. I recorded their conversation."

"Play it," William instructed, realizing the Church must have been compelled to resort to such a discreet warning.

The recording started with the Church's tense voice. "I disagree, Ray. Have you thought about the consequences? If William Devonshire finds out it was us behind this, we won't just face his relentless revenge. We'll alienate England, maybe even all of Europe."

"William Devonshire saved the German chancellor Agnes and their king Philip today, not to mention hundreds of British dignitaries. He also indirectly saved the French president Keller-Bacon and the Italian premier Antonios Guzman. He's untouchable, Ray. Now you want me to bomb him? Either you're crazy, or I am. If this gets out, prison would be the least of our worries."

"I understand all that," Ray Munroe replied with a sigh. "But William Devonshire is the only person right now in all of London who can save Benjamin if he's still alive. You saw his actions this morning—single-handedly saving hundreds of people and taking down sixteen attackers himself."

"If he's that skilled, he must have an elite, highly capable team in London to support him," Ray continued. "We don't know if Benjamin is dead or just in hiding. But if there's a chance he's alive, we have to act. And yet, you saw how Devonshire responded. He didn't even listen to us when we contacted him for help with Benjamin. He doesn't care about our interests."

Ray's tone darkened as he continued, "Under these circumstances, short of making him hate these extremists, I don't see any way to get him to help us voluntarily."

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