The Tyrant Billionaire

She quickly exited the ballroom.

Outside, there was a long corridor.

Every so often, a maid or servant stationed in the hallway would bow respectfully as the princess passed by.

Returning to her room.

Princess Margaret, still fuming, threw herself face first onto her bed.

"Aaaargh!!!"

Thinking about the insult she had just endured, the princess pounded her fists against the mattress while screaming.

Hearing the commotion from inside the room, a few of her maids were startled. Finally, the head maid mustered up the courage to knock on the door.

"Come in!" Margaret called.

The head maid entered the room.

"Your Highness, is everything alright?" the head maid asked.

"I…"

Margaret wanted to say something was wrong, but the recent events were far too humiliating to talk about. In the end, Margaret said, "Mirinda, I need you to investigate someone for me."

"Who should I investigate?"

"The American delegation. Jon Hardy. I want to know everything about him—the more detailed, the better," Princess Margaret demanded angrily.

The head maid, who had heard of Jon Hardy before, knew who he was and promptly responded, "Understood. I will have the royal intelligence office gather all the information on Jon Hardy right away."

After the head maid left, Margaret still couldn't let go of her anger.

She furiously pummeled the bed again.

She was absolutely livid.

There was no way she could just let this go. As Margaret lay there thinking, she suddenly sat up. No, I have to go back to the ballroom and see if there's any chance to get my revenge.

...

The banquet and ball were followed by a cocktail party, where the band withdrew, allowing people to engage in more relaxed conversations.

In such social settings, the atmosphere was more casual, making it an excellent opportunity to discuss matters.

At the moment, the British Prime Minister, Clement Attlee, was conversing with the head of the aid delegation, U.S. Under Secretary of State, Acheson. Attlee hoped to secure more cash assistance.

The U.S. Marshall Aid Plan was structured and needed congressional approval. It wasn't a matter of giving as much as anyone wanted. For example, this year, Britain could receive around $920 million in aid.

However, most of this aid came in the form of goods—cotton, grain, tobacco, oil, industrial products, etc.—dumping America's surplus capacity and materials. Only a very small portion was in the form of cash loans.

This year, the cash loan amounted to only $120 million.

For Britain, $120 million felt like receiving half a cup of water after being starved and parched in the desert for several days.

It kept them thirsty but didn't let them die just yet.

Moreover, the aid materials were not something they could choose; they had to accept whatever was provided. The industrial raw materials that Britain urgently needed were not included in the Marshall Plan. If they wanted those, they had to buy them themselves.

As for not wanting U.S. surplus materials being dumped on them, that wasn't an option. The aid plan was a package deal. If they refused the surplus materials, they wouldn't receive the $120 million cash loan either.

The Prime Minister and the Under Secretary of State were now negotiating, hoping to increase the cash aid, as it was vital for Britain's economic recovery.

Acheson, with a helpless expression, spread his hands.

"The aid plan needs to go through Congress; it's already set and cannot be changed. Frankly speaking, we can't provide more cash either. In fact, we've already considered this and brought a delegation of businessmen. These are America's largest financial groups. If you can secure loans from their banks, you might even get more than the aid funding."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The Prime Minister thought to himself, it's not like we haven't tried. Over these past few days, we've been negotiating with various banks, but they are not particularly enthusiastic about lending.

The British government had approached the Citigroup group, as well as Rockefeller's and Hardy's Wells Fargo Bank, but all of them had uniformly refused the loan requests.

Capitalists knew that the post war economic difficulties in various countries presented the best opportunity to scoop up industries. However, Britain was pursuing nationalization, hoarding everything for itself.

The meager interest on loans could not tempt capitalists. With cash in hand, they naturally preferred to acquire more assets. At this time, cash was truly king.

The British Minister of Finance had once approached Hardy, hoping to secure a $100 million loan, even offering a higher than usual interest rate. Hardy had refused.

Just considering five years of interest, a $100 million loan over five years would only bring $20 million in profit.

But if that $100 million were invested, Hardy could multiply the capital several times. Other banks thought the same, so they all declined the loan requests.

In this world, the people who are the least likely to be taken advantage of are the banks.

Princess Margaret, having changed into a new outfit, reappeared at the cocktail party. For nobles, changing clothes during a banquet was quite normal, in the past, many aristocrats would change three or four outfits during a single event.

Her gaze swept across the room and landed on that despicable man who was chatting with others. She glared at him fiercely, intending to find an opportunity for revenge.

But by the time the cocktail party ended, Princess Margaret still hadn't found the chance.

If she were to approach him and provoke him directly, she was somewhat hesitant, mostly because the scoundrel had genuinely frightened her earlier.

Feeling disheartened, Margaret returned to her chamber. While walking through the corridor, she happened to encounter Peter Townsend, a royal guard, approaching from the opposite direction.

"Good evening, Your Highness."

Margaret responded with a smile.

Peter Townsend was mature and handsome, serving as a guard in King George VI's palace. Margaret had developed a bit of affection for him.

A princess confined to the palace, having reached the age of sexual maturity and having read a few romance novels, naturally began to fantasize about love, and needed a figure to project those feelings onto.