Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet

Not needing to bow to anyone made attending noble gatherings much more enjoyable for William. As he walked by the section where the ladies and young women were seated, he couldn't help but feel delighted at the sight of these noble young ladies smiling and curtsying to him.

He even paused to speak to a pretty, somewhat familiar-looking young girl, asking her about her family and background. By the time he was halfway through the group, Wilson had already greeted everyone and was waiting for him.

After standing and waiting for nearly five minutes, Wilson leaned close to William and complained, "The media will surely mock you tomorrow for holding that young lady's hand for too long."

"Let them," William chuckled smugly. "I'm not royalty. I don't have to be overly cautious like you or the Duke of Grosvenor and his real estate empire. I make my money from the wealthy, not by groveling to them."

"Just wait—tomorrow's papers will be full of stories about how you're smitten with the Croft family's rebellious little princess," Wilson teased. "Watch out, buddy. Lara Croft isn't exactly easy prey. She might punch you in the face if you're not careful."

"Lara Croft?" William turned to look at the sweet-smiling young woman again. Seeing him glance back, she gave a graceful curtsy, her eyes twinkling with a sweetness that was captivating. William returned a smile he thought was particularly charming.

"Wait a minute. That young lady's name is Lara Croft?"

"You didn't know?" Wilson gave him a puzzled look. "I thought you two had already met! Holding her hand when you didn't even know her name—are you that eager?"

"Come on, I just thought she had a nice smile." Trying to justify himself, he asked, "Is she the daughter of an earl?"

"Of course. Her father is Earl Richard Croft, and they live in Abingdon, Croft Manor in Surrey. Why?"

Wilson looked at William, surprised. "You're not seriously interested in Lara, are you? If so, I can only wish you the best of luck."

William only chuckled, avoiding a direct answer as he turned his attention to the marching militia. He couldn't help but think it was fortunate that this Lara wasn't the big-mouthed Angelina type. Being seventeen or eighteen, she couldn't be the Lara Croft from the older Tomb Raider movies. She must be from a newer version.

With that thought, William was certain that the young lady was indeed the Lara Croft he had in mind. His interest in her faded instantly. Lara Croft was synonymous with trouble, and her father, Richard Croft, wasn't exactly a stable figure either. He wondered if Earl Croft would disappear, as portrayed in the movies.

Setting aside any romantic thoughts, William focused on the militia units saluting him and Wilson.

Watching the poorly organized formations, William couldn't help but think to himself, "Is this really supposed to be a military review?"

Barely managing to keep a straight face, he endured about ten minutes before finally muttering to Wilson, "Attending this review is probably the dumbest decision I've made in days. These people aren't militia—they're more like circus monkeys."

Wilson quickly whispered back without moving his lips, "You're crazy. We're in front of a crowd. If the media manages to read your lips, we'll be in big trouble."

"Relax," William replied. "If you know how to keep your lips still, do you think I'd be so careless?"

Wilson exhaled in relief, keeping his gaze forward. "This is just how it is. These units don't see combat and don't have any real tasks, so they're like this. You wouldn't believe it, but they're actually better than they were a few years ago. Back then, I saw some militia on TV who were so frightened by the sound of cannons that they nearly dove to the ground."

"Good grief. If this is an improvement, I can't imagine how bad it was before."

As he watched several units in aprons carrying rifles march past, William agreed with Wilson—this review looked more like a parade.

Luckily, the whole thing only lasted about half an hour. Any longer, and William might not have been able to hold back his laughter.

As he stepped down from the platform, William suddenly grew concerned about whether, as the Grand Duke of Oxford, he would be expected to inspect Oxfordshire's local militia. He quickly asked Wilson, "I won't have to do this for Oxfordshire, will I?"

Wilson couldn't help but laugh at William's uneasy expression, stopping only when William shot him a glare. "Relax, as long as you don't hold any official position with the local militia, you're not obligated to inspect them."

"Thank goodness," William sighed. "If I had to sit through this again, I'd be telling the media that these amateurs couldn't match up to even primary school students in the East."

"Your Grace, the Duke of Devonshire," came a distinctive young woman's voice from behind them.

William recognized the voice without looking—it was Lara Croft.

Wilson smirked, giving William a knowing smile. "Looks like your luck with the ladies has arrived. Here's hoping the wild rose from the Croft family doesn't prick you."

Turning to Lara, Wilson greeted her with a smile. "Good morning, Miss Croft."

"Good morning, Your Highness, Lord Devonshire." Seeing both men turn to her, Lara held up her skirt in a curtsy, bowing her head for a few seconds before looking up at William.

From the inquisitive look in her eyes, William was certain that she hadn't come to flatter him but rather brought some trouble.

"Good morning, Miss Croft. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Mr. Devonshire, may I ask you a question?" Lara straightened up. When William nodded, she continued, "The media reported that during the incident at Westminster Abbey, you blind-fired and hit a sniper hidden behind a wall. Is that true?"

"Yes, that's true," William replied.

"And how were you sure you'd hit him?"

"I just fired a shot, hoping for the best. It seems that God was on my side because I hit him."

"Just hoping for the best?" Lara thought for a moment before pouting and glaring at him. "Mr. Devonshire, it's very rude to lie to a lady."

"Hold on, hold on," William raised a hand to stop her. "Speak to me in your real voice."

"But I've always been like this," Lara replied, still pouting.

"I don't buy it. I don't believe a girl who, at nine, managed to survive ten days alone in the mountains could be such a prim and proper lady. Lara Croft, has no one ever told you how unnatural you sound when you're pretending to be ladylike?"

"Out with it. What is it you really want?"

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