Though the bed was barely 1.2 meters wide, if they squeezed a bit, sharing with both women didn’t seem impossible.
Of course, it was just a thought—he still had business to handle.
Throwing on his clothes, Pierre stepped outside and came face to face with Julie, who looked exhausted.
Her eyes met his—and her heart fluttered.
Seeing the deep shadows under her eyes, Pierre offered a smile.
"Sorry about last night... we may have kept you up."
Julie’s lips twitched. "No, no, it’s fine..."
But she immediately regretted saying it.
What was she doing—admitting she enjoyed listening?
Flustered and embarrassed, she rolled her eyes and snapped,
"If you knew it was disturbing me, why didn’t you stop?"
Pierre replied earnestly,
"Well, that’s something you should really bring up with Stanna."
Still clearly sleep-deprived, Julie yawned.
"I need a proper nap. Sleeping on the sofa is not comfortable."
Without another word, she brushed past him and disappeared into the bedroom—right back into bed with Stanna.
Pierre raised an eyebrow.
Two beautiful women curled up under one blanket... tempting.
But he shook the thought off.
A man must prioritize his career.
While Tommy and his crew were scrambling to gather the cars and cash, Pierre was already making moves.
He rented an office in London and officially registered a business.
It wasn’t a full-fledged company—just the Zhenhua Company’s UK office.
Compared to America’s overt discrimination, the UK was a bit more pragmatic.
As long as you had money, no lawyer would turn you away.
With professional help, it took just one day to get everything filed and approved.
"You want me... to manage the company?"
Dressed in a sleek little cocktail dress, Stanna looked around the spacious office, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Yes," Pierre said simply. "Well, not manage exactly. The tasks are simple.
Just liaise with clients, take their weekly order lists, and telegraph them to New York."
"I’ll be heading back to New York at the end of the month.
That’ll be my main base of operations for a while.
And honestly—aside from you, I don’t know who I can trust in London."
Her glow dimmed a bit.
"You’re leaving for New York again..."
Seeing her expression, Pierre stepped forward, pulled her into his arms, and whispered,
"Darling, I need you to keep things running here while I’m away."
His hand slid down to her waist and hips.
She melted into him, murmuring,
"I don’t want you to go... Promise me you’ll come back whenever you can, okay?"
Though she loved the time they spent together, Stanna—married as she was—knew they’d never be more than lovers.
"Don’t worry," Pierre whispered in her ear.
His eyes flicked toward the very wide office desk.
No curtains? Who cared.
Turns out, you don’t need curtains.
Over the next few days, between wild passion and soul-soothing intimacy, they acted like the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Watching all this from the sidelines, Julie was practically gnashing her teeth.
And not just with envy—her whole body itched.
One morning, Stanna stepped out of the bedroom wearing only a thin silk slip.
As she drank from a glass of cold water in front of the fridge, Julie—bleary-eyed on the sofa—muttered,
"Darling, if you keep this up, I might actually die."
By the light of the fridge, she could see Stanna’s radiant, glowing face.
Everything about her looked fresh, rejuvenated, like a peeled egg—smooth, firm, delicious.
Now she understood why Stanna had been glowing lately.
The woman was clearly... well-nourished.
"I’m sorry, darling," Stanna said sweetly as she walked over.
"Did it get to be a bit much last night?"
She handed Julie the glass of water with a teasing grin.
"Maybe... you should come join us?"
"What?!" Julie gasped, eyes wide.
"I said... we could all enjoy it together," Stanna whispered into her ear, voice sultry and coaxing.
"He’s not just young and handsome... You heard him last night.
He’s very good. Come on—join us."
Julie stared, stunned.
Stanna’s voice grew more seductive. She wasn’t just playing around—she had a plan.
If she and Julie shared him, maybe—just maybe—it would keep Pierre coming back to London more often.
She didn’t want to fall back into obscurity.
Not when this man gave her a sense of purpose, of power—of life.
Even if she was married, and even if there was no future with him...
She could still secure her place at his side.
But for that, she needed Julie.
Julie bit her lip. Before she could even process what was happening, Stanna had already grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom.
Inside, Pierre was lying on the bed, waiting for Stanna to return with a drink.
When he heard footsteps, he opened his eyes— and saw two silhouettes entering the room.
He couldn’t help but gulp.
Stanna pulled Julie over to the bed, climbed in herself, and gave him a sultry look.
"Darling," she whispered,
"Your tea is served..."
The tea was excellent—a proper cup of British milk tea, rich and sweet.
But even with something that good, a man couldn’t indulge forever.
A man must prioritize his career.
Soon enough, Tommy delivered the full batch of cars.
600 vehicles in total—brand new, some German-made, others American, and most of them luxury models.
The Razor Gang had hauled them straight out of warehouse storage by the docks.
These were pre-war imports that had been impounded due to wartime restrictions.
For the gangsters, this was essentially a zero-cost deal—no overhead, just profit.
But Pierre didn’t feel like judging them.
That’s what gangs do.
They profit where others can’t. As long as they weren’t robbing him, what did it matter?
Once the vehicles were delivered, Pierre’s system awarded him several hundred thousand experience points.
But at this point, those numbers barely moved him anymore.
He’d seen too much, done too much.
All that remained was to wait for his flight— and return to America.
Compared to Britain, the U.S. was a land of opportunity: bigger markets, more money.
Just the sugar trade alone could give him all the capital he needed to rebuild North Borneo.