Chapter 200: Old Smith Backs Down

"What's going on?" The head bodyguard asked the subordinate who rushed in.

"Boss, Mr. Devonshire is playing dice in the lobby with the hotel. He's already won five or six rounds."

Hearing it was only a few rounds, Old Smith didn't think much of it and looked at his nervous subordinate with displeasure. "You're worried over just five or six wins? How much has he won?"

The subordinate, under his boss's gaze, lowered his head and said softly, "Over a million dollars."

"Only a million?" Old Smith was surprised. The previous night's game was in the tens of millions; this didn't seem like William's style. "How much is he betting each time?"

"Just ten thousand dollars, but he's betting on exact numbers each time, which have high payouts. Fortunately, he's reserved that table, so no other customers can place bets."

Old Smith quickly realized that William wasn't hiding from him but was pressuring him to pay up. If he didn't, William would just keep playing in the hotel. But was William really that confident he could keep winning?

Undecided, Old Smith figured that since William had reserved the table and was keeping others from joining, it was a warning. Deciding to wait and see, Old Smith doubted that William could keep winning indefinitely. He instructed his men to bring a laptop and watched as William casually placed a ten-thousand-dollar bet on the number 17.

Contrary to Smith's expectations, 17 was the winning number. An hour later, William had a stack of plastic cards representing his winnings. Tired of waiting, he placed all 60-plus cards, each worth a million, on the number 6. If he won this round, the payout would be 840 million dollars, which made Old Smith's heart race.

Fortunately, the hotel staff didn't dare roll the dice this time. Resigned, Old Smith told his head bodyguard, "Let him come up. It's time to talk."

"Understood, boss."

A few minutes later, William exited the elevator holding a check, looking furious. "Mr. Smith, are you planning to close the hotel? Why didn't they roll the dice? That was an 840 million dollar win. What am I supposed to do with this check for just 60 million?"

"Alright, William, calm down. You've been betting just ten thousand each time to force me to negotiate. Now you've won, and I've set aside my pride to invite you up here. What more do you want? Besides, those dice weren't rolled, and I doubt it would have landed on 6."

Of course, it would have been 6. William thought, feeling a bit regretful. "No more pretending to be angry," William said, sitting back comfortably. He had only gone to the lobby to pressure Old Smith into negotiating, which put him in a stronger position.

Old Smith, understanding William's strategy, had no choice but to give in. In Las Vegas, the gaming business was fundamental. A hotel had to accept bets, or it might as well close down.

Old Smith personally poured William a glass of whiskey, added a spherical ice cube, and said, "Don't worry, I'll pay you what we agreed upon. Here, try this." He handed the glass to William, "This is Macallan Lalique 62-year-old single malt whiskey. One bottle costs 300,000 dollars. I only have one bottle, and I've been saving it, but today it's yours."

William sniffed the whiskey but didn't drink it. "When will you pay? I'm running out of patience."

Smith chuckled, "I'll pay. You mentioned being interested in England Power. I'd like to settle with shares in England Power."

William scoffed, "Do you think you can just acquire shares in England Power?"

"Whether we can acquire them is our concern. Just tell me if you want the shares."

William eyed the confident Smith, feeling a bit uneasy. These people's connections were extensive. Acquiring England Power wasn't just about having money; it required approval from the English government, which William couldn't manage on his own. With help, it would be easier. "How much can you get?"

"With the 16% we already own, I guarantee we'll acquire over 17%, giving you a controlling stake of over 33%."

"Heh, the market value of 33% is only 1.7 billion dollars. Do you think I'm a fool, Mr. Smith?"

"How about adding a complete stake in Aston Martin, worth around 500 million dollars? And don't forget, even if you try to acquire it yourself, you'd have to pay brokerage fees and get approval from the English government. I doubt they'd hand over such a historic company to someone not even twenty. Consider the rest our facilitation fee. I guarantee the shares will be in your name within a week."

A week? William pondered. That suggested Smith's group already had shares in England Power; otherwise, they couldn't possibly secure that many shares from the market in such a short time without causing the stock price to skyrocket.

William weighed the pros and cons. If he used 3 billion dollars in cash, he could certainly buy more than 33% over several years. However, stock prices weren't static; they could rise as the market recovered in a year or two. Yet, if he agreed, it would be a loss if Smith's group didn't have to buy the shares from the market.

"40% of England Power and all of Aston Martin's assets, plus all the shares in Chelsea, or I'll just take cash, Mr. Smith. England Power isn't essential to me. My investment in infrastructure companies is to strengthen the Devonshire family's influence in England. If necessary, I can acquire water and natural gas companies. 3 billion dollars is enough to buy any of them, so this is my final offer."

This time, Smith didn't hesitate long before agreeing. He couldn't be sure they could kill William, and he felt more likely to be killed by William in retaliation. Reluctantly, Old Smith agreed.

With the terms settled, the rest was handled by lawyers. The two men shook hands, both wearing forced smiles, before William took his leave, still cautious of the old man.

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