Chapter 716: Restlessness (Part 2)

After dinner, they took a helicopter to Long Island to attend the Time Warner executive party. By the time they left the East Hampton mansion of Time Warner's chairman, Gerald Levin, it was already past ten o'clock at night.

Grace had become almost entirely obedient to Simon, yet she still insisted on not spending the night with him while away.

Simon didn't push the issue and accompanied her back to Manhattan.

The Black Hawk helicopter took off from the eastern tip of Long Island, covering the 100-plus kilometer distance in about half an hour.

Inside the spacious cabin of the Black Hawk, the four accompanying bodyguards sensibly sat in the front row, separated by two empty rows. Grace, with her arms around Simon's neck, sat on his lap. Although there was no more intimate interaction, her face was still flushed.

"I really need to go back, but I'll be visiting San Francisco more often. You know, the New Media Operations Department is working closely with Instagram, and we've set up an office over there," Grace said softly, caressing the handsome face of the man so close to her. She asked, "When will you be back on the East Coast? This week or next? I can adjust my schedule to match yours."

Simon, enjoying the fragrance of the woman in his arms, replied, "I don't have time this week. I'll be leaving for Japan tomorrow. Next week, I'll let you know."

Grace nodded and then curiously asked, "What are you going to Japan for?"

"The construction of Universal Studios Osaka is nearing completion. I need to go and check on it."

Grace remembered a rumor about the "Westeros Effect" and joked, "Will your visit cause another crash in the Japanese stock market?"

Simon understood what she was referring to and smiled, "It's hard to say. With the recent Mexican currency crisis, the global financial markets are already volatile."

In October, international currency speculators, led by Soros's Quantum Fund, began targeting the Mexican peso. This time, Cersei Capital's Cersei Fund Management Company was also involved, and Mexico's economy was doomed.

The deeper reason behind this crisis can be traced back to the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) promoted by the Bush administration two years ago.

In December 1992, after negotiations, Canada, the United States, and Mexico formally signed the NAFTA, establishing the North American Free Trade Area. This was initially a political achievement pushed by the Bush administration during the election campaign to secure re-election, though it ultimately didn't help.

The Clinton administration, which came to power afterward, was dissatisfied with many of NAFTA's provisions. Specifically, the removal of tariffs between the three countries gave Mexico's cheap agricultural and industrial products a significant price advantage over the United States and Canada, drastically increasing Mexico's annual trade surplus.

Bill Clinton was a rule-abiding politician who wanted to maintain the credibility of the U.S. government. Therefore, reneging on a signed trade agreement was not an option.

Hence, the Mexican currency crisis.

As the peso plummeted, Mexico would have no choice but to seek aid from the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund, both controlled by the United States, if they wanted to avoid an economic collapse. To receive financial assistance, the Mexican government would have to make numerous concessions and promises, effectively renegotiating the NAFTA.

The 1992 British pound crisis, the 1994 Mexican peso crisis, and the 1997 Asian financial crisis all followed a similar pattern.

Globalization had made the world's economies interconnected.

Although Mexico's economy was small, its ties to the United States meant that its currency crisis inevitably caused global stock market turbulence. Even Japan, far across the ocean, couldn't remain unaffected.

Grace was aware of the recent Mexican currency crisis and remarked, "If the Japanese market crashes again, they might refuse to let you enter the country next time."

Simon replied nonchalantly, "If they don't let me in, so be it. I don't particularly like Japan anyway."

"Why don't you like it? I've been to Japan many times for both business and leisure, and I always found it quite pleasant," Grace said, her tone turning slightly teasing. "And Japanese girls are very gentle. You'd definitely like them."

Simon didn't respond to Grace's last comment.

Whether a woman is gentle often depends on the man, and he certainly wasn't lacking for "gentle" women around him.

However, Simon couldn't help but ponder why he didn't like Japan.

Japanese culture is widely respected in the West, often viewed positively.

But Simon never felt much for Japan and rarely visited the country across the ocean.

As for why? There were certainly some reasons from his past life, but there seemed to be more to it.

Seeing Simon lost in thought, Grace didn't interrupt him. Although sitting on his lap felt a bit strange and embarrassing, she was reluctant to move and even adjusted her position for more comfort.

After a moment, Simon finally came to a realization. Seeing Grace's curious gaze, he explained, "Japan is too closed off, and its overall strength is very high. Whether in politics, economics, or culture, the Westeros system doesn't have many opportunities to break in."

Grace was puzzled.

Simon asked, "Have you read *Gone with the Wind*?"

Grace didn't know why he suddenly brought this up and jokingly replied, "I'll start reading it tomorrow."

"In *Gone with the Wind*, the male lead, Rhett Butler, has a theory: times of war and upheaval are the playgrounds of capitalists and ambitious men." Simon continued, "The more I think about it, the more I realize how true that is. War leads to massive redistribution, and change creates immense wealth—these are the best times for new powers to rise. If it weren't for the upheaval brought by the information age, I might have only managed to control a big movie company in Hollywood. Owning a few billion dollars would have been my limit, and achieving what I have now would have been impossible."

Grace seemed to understand, "So, you don't like Japan because it's too stable, too closed off, and too strong, leaving no room for you to invade and control it."

Simon nodded, "Exactly. Besides Japan, I don't particularly like the UK, France, or Germany either. In comparison, I'm more inclined toward Eastern Europe, Africa, and the rest of Asia, excluding Japan."

Grace sensed the strong undercurrent of aggression in Simon's tone and wasn't repelled by it; in fact, she felt even more captivated. Softly, she said, "The stronger the target, the more challenging it is. I believe that if you wanted to, neither the UK nor Japan would be an issue for you."

Simon confidently replied, "Of course not. It's just a matter of time. I need to accumulate power through a series of relatively easy targets first, somewhat like… surrounding the cities from the countryside. Do you know that phrase?"

Grace honestly shook her head.

Simon joked, "It's hard to have a conversation with someone as uneducated as you."

Grace playfully leaned in and bit his ear lightly.

The helicopter arrived at the helipad on the east side of Manhattan near the East River. Two luxury cars were already waiting there. Simon got into one with Grace, and as he was about to instruct the driver to head to Greenwich, Grace mentioned her new address, so the car took a detour north.

As usual, the car stopped at the street corner.

In the car, Grace kissed Simon's lips reluctantly, whispered a few sweet nothings, and then stepped out.

Unlike the bustling downtown, the Upper East Side was quiet and even a bit eerie at eleven at night. Walking alone on the street, Grace didn't feel any lack of safety. When she arrived at her townhouse, she took out her keys and opened the door. Before going in, she glanced back to see the Bentley still parked at the corner.

Even though she knew he couldn't see her, she couldn't help but smile in that direction before entering the house.

"Mom, you're finally back."

Her daughter, Rita, who had heard her coming in, was the first to greet her. Hugging Grace, Rita sniffed her shoulder and even leaned in close to smell her chest. Seemingly noticing something but unable to put her finger on it, she asked, "Mom, do you have another scent on you?"

Grace, showing no sign of anything being amiss, pulled away from her daughter's embrace and smiled, "What are you doing, sniffing around like a little puppy?"

Rita Spur walked arm in arm with her mother towards the living room, tilting her head as she thought. "Mom, you smell like, hmm, someone else's scent," she said carefully, glancing around. She leaned in close and whispered, "Mom, could it be that you're having an affair?"

Simon didn't have the habit of wearing cologne, and his body naturally lacked the common odor found in many Westerners. However, everyone has a distinct personal scent, and after snuggling with him during the return trip from Long Island, Grace had inevitably picked up some of his. With Rita sniffing so closely, it wasn't surprising she noticed.

Grace's expression remained calm as she playfully pinched her daughter's cheek. "Mom works hard so you can live in a big house and go to a good school, and this is how you repay me? I guess I can save your allowance for next week."

Rita quickly stopped fixating on her earlier discovery and clung to her mother's arm, pleading, "Mom, I'm sorry! Are you hungry? I can make you a snack."

"Just a glass of milk will do. By the way, where are your father and brother?"

"Ray's already asleep. Dad's in the study upstairs. When I brought him coffee earlier, he said he'd probably be working until midnight. So, Mom, I'm the

 only one waiting for you."

Grace guessed that her daughter had likely been out late at a party with her classmates, which is why she was still up. She warned, "I'll let it go this time, but from now on, you must be home by ten. I'll have Glen keep an eye on you. If you're late again, I'll deduct a week's allowance."

"Okay, okay, I promise," Rita replied, though her mind was already elsewhere. "Mom, I could earn some allowance myself by doing a part-time job. Can I become a model?"

At 16, Rita Spur had already reached a height of 176 cm, thanks to her parents' good genes. She had been eager to use her mother's connections to model and earn some extra money since she was 13.

Having worked in the industry for years, Grace had always refused to let her daughter enter such a problematic field. She knew all too well the issues within the industry.

But things were different now.

However, even with the ability to fully protect her daughter, Grace still didn't want her to get involved in that world. So, she firmly declined once more, "No."

"Oh, come on, Mom, please," Rita begged, shaking her mother's arm, but Grace remained resolute. However, after a moment of thought, she offered a compromise, "If you want a part-time job, I can help you find something else. But modeling is off the table."

Rita's eyes lit up as she eagerly asked, "What kind of job?"

"I'll have to look into it. But if you take on a part-time job, you won't have weekends free to hang out with your friends," Grace warned.

Rita hesitated, "Oh…?"

The idea of a modeling job, where she could simply take photos or walk in shows on weekends or evenings, sounded ideal. But if a part-time job meant losing all her free time, then what was the point of earning allowance?

Grace didn't press the issue, "You don't have to do it. Just focus on your studies, or I can arrange something for next summer."

Rita tried to negotiate, "But, Mom, can I at least see what the job is first?"

Grace nodded, gently stroking her daughter's golden hair. "Alright, now go to bed. No sneaking on the computer. I'll check on you later."

Rita snuggled against her mother for a moment before bouncing up, "I'll get you your milk first."

Grace smiled, "You should have a glass too; it'll help you sleep."

"Okay!"

Watching her daughter bounce into the kitchen, Grace took out her phone from her purse, turned it on, and began checking the voicemail messages she had missed over the past few hours.

A moment later, Rita returned with two glasses of milk, placing one in front of her mother and holding the other in her hands. After finishing her milk, she finally headed upstairs.

After replying to a few urgent messages, Grace noticed it was past midnight. She took the empty glasses to the kitchen, washed them, and then went upstairs. She checked on the children's rooms, finding her son already fast asleep. However, her daughter, who tended to be a night owl, was caught in bed, secretly chatting on the phone with a mischievous grin.

Sitting at Rita's bedside, Grace gently brushed her daughter's hair and softly asked, "Are you in love?"

Rita initially wanted to deny it, but under her mother's gentle gaze, she hesitated briefly before nodding, "The captain of our school's football team."

Grace smiled, "It seems our Rita has quite the charm, catching the eye of the school's top boy so quickly."

Rita felt a little proud and delighted by her mother's approval. She couldn't help but offer, "Mom, do you want to see his picture?"

"Sure."

Rita immediately pulled out a photo from under her pillow. Although a bit embarrassed by her mother's teasing expression, she still showed it to her, "His name is Michael Levinson."

Grace took the photo, glanced at the tall, handsome blonde boy in the baseball jersey, offered a few words of praise, and handed it back. Watching Rita place the photo back under her pillow, she said, "Mom won't interfere with your personal life, but remember to protect yourself. And if he ever mistreats you, be sure to tell me."

"Mike would never mistreat me," Rita replied instinctively, then, realizing how that sounded, quickly added, "I know, Mom. But if Mike did, I'm not sure even Dad could take him. Mike is 6 feet 3 inches tall, not only the football team captain but also trained in martial arts. He's really strong."

Grace chuckled at her daughter's loyalty, gently chiding, "You shouldn't compare your dad to your boyfriend like that. Remember, your dad will always be your most steadfast protector, something a boyfriend might not always be."

Rita insisted, "Mike would protect me."

Grace sighed, pinching her daughter's nose affectionately. "Alright, time to sleep. It's late."

Rita, not bothered by the small disagreement, snuggled under the covers, "Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight."

Watching Rita close her eyes, Grace turned off the lamp and quietly left the room.

She then went to the study next to the master bedroom on the fourth floor. Bill Spur was still busy, with documents spread across the desk, a phone call in progress, and a video chat open on the computer screen. Grace didn't ask any questions; she simply made him some coffee, chatted about everyday things, wished him goodnight, and then retired to her room to rest.

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