Chapter 303 How Much Money Is There Really?

As soon as the car started moving, Sunday's voice came through William's phone. "Sir, the photos have been sent to your phone. I recommend choosing the Riva 50MT yacht. The head chef is being contacted, and I'll have an answer for you shortly."

William looked through the photos and found that Sunday's recommendation was indeed the best choice. He nodded, "Let's go with that one."

Sunday's sudden appearance surprised Ambrosio. She grabbed William's hand and asked, "A butler? Darling, when did you hire a butler?"

"Hehe, Sunday is the result of my work over the past couple of months," William said, speaking to the air. "Sunday, this is my girlfriend, Ambrosio. Say hello to her."

"Hello, Miss Ambrosio. I'm Sunday, an AI butler system created by Mr. Devonshire. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Artificial intelligence?" Ambrosio clung tightly to William's arm. "Oh my God, is this why you haven't come to see me for over a month?"

"Not entirely, but close enough," William initially tried to brush it off, but then thought better of it. Ambrosio was a smart woman, and there was no need to deceive her about everything. "Besides creating Sunday over the past couple of months, I also built a stable for my mom at the Oxford castle and bought over a hundred Akhal-Teke horses. Oh, and I made some money in the process," William boasted. "Enough to buy your Victoria's Secret. Actually, I could buy ten of them."

"Ten? F***!" Ambrosio swore in shock, hugging William's neck tightly as she whispered, "Oh my God, did I hear that right, or is today April Fool's Day?"

"Darling, say it again, say it again. How much money did you make in the last couple of months?"

William rolled his eyes, internally thinking that Ambrosio must have been blinded by her ambition to join Victoria's Secret. His wealth as a billionaire was no secret in high society.

"I should now be the youngest billionaire in the world. I haven't done the exact math, but Sunday should know."

Ambrosio quickly addressed the air, "Sunday, can you tell me how much money William actually has?"

But the question went unanswered for a moment. Ambrosio turned to William, puzzled. "What's wrong, darling? Is Sunday malfunctioning? Why isn't he answering me?"

William laughed and snapped his fingers. He was curious to know exactly how much he had, too. As for whether it was risky for Ambrosio to know, he wasn't worried—this girl was tight-lipped. Many journalists had tried to pry details of his wealth from her, but all had failed.

Sunday's voice finally came through the car's speakers, though it was so low that Ambrosio had to strain to hear. This was a testament to Sunday's intelligence, as the volume was lowered to prevent the driver, Adam, from overhearing.

"Miss Ambrosio, Mr. Devonshire's wealth, if we consider just his stock holdings, has already exceeded $10 billion, reaching $11.6 billion. Based on this portion of his wealth, he would rank 22nd on Forbes' wealth list published in May. As for cash, there is $4.52 billion in bank deposits and $630 million in cash holdings, totaling $5.15 billion. However, approximately $300 to $400 million in taxes need to be paid on this amount, depending on the tax refund for your expenses over the past few months. But it won't be less than $300 million."

"If we include your gold, jewelry, and antiques, your wealth will exceed $20 billion."

After a pause, Sunday sighed, "Sir, you are the fastest and most aggressive moneymaker in the world. Congratulations; with your wealth, you are likely to rank in the top ten, or even the top five, on next year's Forbes global rich list."

"Ah, ah, ah!"

A series of shrill screams erupted from Ambrosio, and William hurriedly covered her mouth. He was just about to scold her, but before he could, he felt something soft on his fingers. Looking down, he saw Ambrosio biting his finger, her eyes dreamy as she stared at him.

Seeing this, William couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. "Oh God, how much longer until we reach the yacht club?"

"Three minutes until we arrive at the yacht club, sir. I've detected your heart rate has suddenly increased by 27%. Do you need me to call a doctor?" Sunday asked.

"No, I've never felt better," William said, staring into Ambrosio's eyes.

"Alright then, it seems I need to add a human special emotions database to my program. May I autonomously search for such data, sir?"

William knew Sunday was just teasing him and responded with a playful, "Do whatever you want."

A few minutes later, they arrived at the yacht club. William carried Ambrosio, who was practically hanging off him, onto the Riva 50MT yacht.

After shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with the yacht club's manager, and confirming that William could handle the yacht himself, the manager tactfully pulled the Riva company's sales manager aside.

Handing over the keys, the manager said, "Mr. Devonshire, this Riva 50MT yacht is fresh out of the shipyard. You and Miss Ambrosio are the first guests to board it. I wish you both a delightful time."

With that, he quickly pulled the sales manager, who was still eager to talk, away.

"Hehe," Ambrosio chuckled as she watched the Riva sales manager reluctantly leave. "Darling, it looks like you're both a super VIP and a prime target in their eyes. They're even trying to sell you a boat that hasn't officially gone on the market yet."

Meanwhile, the sales manager who was walking away was being scolded by the yacht club manager out of William's sight.

William suddenly remembered that the Riva 50-meter yacht shouldn't have been available at this time and asked Sunday with some concern, "Sunday, what's the story with this boat?"

"Sir, don't worry. The boat left the Italian shipyard of LaFarge seven days ago after three months of sea trials. I've checked its maritime records; the yacht has no safety issues and a zero-accident record."

"It's here in New York for a yacht show three days from now. The rush to sell it is because it was a project initiated by LaFarge before they acquired the Riva shipyard in May this year. The goal was to demonstrate LaFarge's sincerity and creativity to all Riva employees. The materials and technology used are top-notch, meant to ensure the successful acquisition of the Riva shipyard."

"The funds used were all bank loans, and this year's stock market crash left LaFarge with a tight budget after acquiring the Riva shipyard, so they're eager to sell this new concept yacht. You know that in today's market, there aren't many billionaires willing to buy a yacht worth more than $18 million."

Satisfied with the explanation, William let go of his worries and smiled as he led Ambrosio on a tour of the superyacht, which wasn't supposed to exist for another decade.

The Riva 50MT yacht is 49 meters long, 9 meters wide, with four decks, one master suite, and five guest cabins, accommodating up to 12 guests. After a brief tour, William pulled Ambrosio, who was eager to explore every corner of the yacht, into the master suite. Smiling, he asked, "Do you like it?"

"What?" Ambrosio asked, a bit dazed.

"The yacht," William grinned. "If you make me happy, I'll buy it for you. You'll be able to use it anytime you want."

"Use it?" Ambrosio blinked, tapping William's lips with her finger. She smiled mischievously, "Just use it, darling?"

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