From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

"Three days? Six million?!"

Mr. Montmartre's pupils trembled, and the flattering smile at the corner of his mouth disappeared without a trace. He suddenly put on a bitter face as if changing his face, and cried:

"My dear Monsignor Bonaparte, this is not a small amount of money. You must know that the cash flow of the Commercial Bank of France is..."

Lawrence was obviously not interested in listening to his complaints. He tapped the silver tray twice with his fork and interrupted:

"With your financial resources, you can't come up with this money?"

"I" Mr. Montmartre was suddenly speechless. Even with his sharp tongue, he couldn't help but feel very embarrassed at this time.

Six million livres was indeed all the cash flow he could raise in a short period of time.

After all, Mr. Montmartre's assets only amounted to more than 20 million livres, and this was after he had made a fortune using the inside information of the Corsican National Silver Company.

However, if you really want to take out the six million livres, it is not as simple as withdrawing money from the safe.

Not only does he need to use the operating cash flow of the French Commercial Bank, but he also needs to conduct inter-bank lending, obtain several large-scale loans from other banks, and even sell off some securities assets and real estate. These are all harmful to adversely affects the operations of Banque Commerciale de France.

Not to mention that this is not a recoverable loan, but a free grant.

"Hahaha, Sir Bonaparte, please stop joking."

In desperation, Mr. Montmartre had no choice but to laugh and change the subject:

"Well, I am really moved by His Royal Highness the Crown Prince's love for the people. I have decided to donate half a million livres to His Highness the Crown Prince for free to help the citizens who are in distress. You What do you think?"

Next to him, Crown Prince Louis seemed a little tempted. The immature Crown Prince felt that it would be great to get half a million livres at no cost.

After all, this amount of money is indeed a huge amount of money objectively speaking.

In history, Louis XVI only took out one million livres from his private treasury in order to show his determination to aid the American War of Independence.

Moreover, Crown Prince Louis is no longer a novice who knows nothing about business and finance like he was a year ago. He also knows that the six million livres are really a lot of money for Mr. Montmartre. A vital asset.

However, Lawrence did not wait for Prince Louis to turn around to ask for his opinion. He shook his head decisively and sneered:

"Five hundred thousand? It seems that you are not impressed by His Highness the Crown Prince."

Faced with Lawrence's criticism, Mr. Montmartre exclaimed in a very artificial way:

"Don't say that, Your Excellency. If I could, I would even cut out my heart and show it to His Royal Highness. There must still be a few drops of bloody tears flowing in that sincere heart."

"There's no need to do the heart-breaking thing." Lawrence glanced at Montmartre meaningfully, as if he hated iron and said:

"But what you mean is that you really can't afford the six million livres? That's such a pity."

"What a pity?" Mr. Montmartre captured this word keenly and quickly pursed his lips, silently waiting for Lawrence to continue.

It was not that Mr. Montmartre was incapable of spending the six million, he just couldn't accept giving this huge sum of money to Lawrence in vain, in exchange for something as illusory as the favor of His Royal Highness the Crown Prince.

In the final analysis, this is still a transaction of interests, and Mr. Montmartre is also waiting for Lawrence to introduce chips that satisfy him.

"I just mentioned you to His Highness."

Lawrence turned his head and winked at Crown Prince Louis. The Crown Prince was stunned for a moment and then quickly nodded, indicating that this was indeed the case:

"I said that Mr. Montmartre is an outstanding banker and a man of great influence in the financial and business circles. It just so happens that His Highness still lacks a capable economic advisor. I was recommending you just now."

"Economic advisor?"

Mr. Montmartre's eyebrows subconsciously raised, and his eyes that were as calculating as those of the Jews also rolled up unconsciously. It was obvious that he was instantly attracted by this proposal.

Serving as the economic adviser to His Majesty the future King is undoubtedly a prestigious job.

Although both of them knew very well that this was obviously just a nominal title. His Majesty the King had an entire Privy Council and Chancellor of the Exchequer to formulate the kingdom's economic policies, and would not go out of his way to ask for the opinions of a paid economic adviser.

However, this undoubtedly gives Mr. Montmartre the qualification to attend various high-end banquets and salons. At the same time, his relationship with His Royal Highness the Crown Prince can also win him a place in these social occasions.

At the moment, what this wealthy banker is pursuing is to integrate into the top society. This proposal can be said to be exactly what Mr. Montmartre wants.

"But six million livres, just for a title."

The shrewd and rational banker did not get carried away immediately. After a moment of excitement, he immediately calmed down and carefully weighed the pros and cons of the transaction.

In his eyes, the price of six million livres is still too high. If it is just for a ticket to the top society, he can spend money to buy a noble title like other capitalists. Such a cost is comparable to Six million livres is much lower.

Moreover, what worries Mr. Montmartre the most is that even if he obtains the ticket, he will probably not be able to integrate into the inner circle of those nobles without the blood of the nobles, and will only be regarded as a person by those people. It's just a weak fat sheep that's here to do your bidding.

Looking at Montmartre who was hesitating, Lawrence also expressed pressure in a timely manner:

"If you can't even come up with these six million livres, it seems that your status in the financial world is not as high as I thought. Maybe I have to find a more capable advisor for His Royal Highness the Crown Prince."

"Haha, you are exaggerating." Mr. Montmartre gritted his teeth and decided to reject this deal that was not a good deal at all, so he declined with a wry smile:

"It is true that I am not the best financier. I heard that there are several bankers in France with assets worth hundreds of millions. I am nothing in front of them."

Upon hearing this, Prince Louis at the dinner table became a little panicked. Although his mind was not as sharp as the other two, he could still tell that Montmartre was rejecting the deal with Lawrence.

His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, who was originally inexperienced and had never experienced this kind of interest negotiation, thought that the lunch would end in futility, and he was suddenly at a loss.

Lawrence, on the other hand, was not discouraged and his expression did not change. He knew very clearly that this kind of situation was nothing more than two people adding money to each other until the deal was concluded.

"Well, it seems that the talent I recommended will disappoint His Royal Highness the Crown Prince." Lawrence shrugged, shook his head and laughed at himself:

"Oh, by the way, there is also Lieutenant General Jacques Philippe. I'm afraid he will be disappointed too."

Mr. Montmartre opposite was holding a gold cup and drinking white wine. When he heard Lawrence mention Lieutenant General Philip's name, he also hurriedly put down his wine glass and asked in confusion:

"General Philippe? The younger brother of the Duke of Choiseul? Why is he disappointed in me? I don't know him yet."

"Ah, I almost forgot to tell you, Mr. Montmartre." Lawrence patted his head pretending to blame himself, smiled and waved his hand:

"You have a son, right?"

Mr. Montmartre nodded hesitantly and said with a smile:

"Yes, Your Excellency, I have an incompetent son who is several years older than you. As a result, he has accomplished nothing so far. I am really worried about how I can safely hand over my property to him in the future."

"That's right." Lawrence took a sip of sherry and said casually:

"When I was chatting with Lieutenant General Philip a few days ago, I mentioned that he also has a niece who is still unmarried. She is already in her twenties, and he is worried about how to marry her off."

Mr. Montmartre was startled for a moment, then suddenly became excited: "Are you talking about Miss Elvy?"

Lawrence couldn't help but rolled his eyes and glanced at Montmartre as if he were mentally retarded.

"Hahaha, sorry, I'm too excited. Miss Elwe is the eldest daughter of the Choiseul family and the apple of the Duke's eye. How could she not get married?" Mr. Montmartre touched his head. He quickly apologized for his excitement and stupidity.

"She is a distant niece of Lieutenant General Philippe, a descendant of the Choiseul family." Lawrence looked at Montmartre helplessly and continued:

"Although she is from a collateral line, there is no doubt about her noble bloodline. She is even a countess and has an actual feudal territory in an earldom. Of course, that territory is not that big."

"A countess? Or a real one?! There is also the blood of the Choiseul family...!"

Mr. Montmartre listened to Lawrence's story, and the uncontrollable excitement filled his whole body again.

"I mentioned to Lieutenant General Philip that a top banker happened to have an unmarried son." Lawrence made it up casually:

"Originally, Lieutenant General Philip was very interested in you. Unfortunately, since you admit that you are not a wealthy financier, I am embarrassed to introduce your son to the countess."

"Wait a minute! Your Excellency, Your Excellency, I, I didn't mean that!"

Before Lawrence could finish speaking, Mr. Montmartre interrupted Lawrence impatiently, completely ignoring etiquette.

This civilian banker knew very well that due to his humble background, he probably had no hope of fully integrating into aristocratic society in his life.

But this does not mean that his descendants will be trapped in the third class for their entire lives.

As long as his son can marry the countess, the blood of the noble Choiseul family will flow through generations of descendants, truly realizing a leap in class.

Mr. Montmartre himself will also be worshiped by future generations as the founder of this epic marriage, and will be revered as the ancestor of the bloodline.

And now, the only chance to realize all this is right in front of us, in the hands of His Excellency Bonaparte.

Lawrence looked at Mr. Montmartre who had bitten the fishhook, and chuckled:

"Oh? That's not what you meant? Do you have other meanings?"

"I, I I mean."

Mr. Montmartre choked incoherently for a long time, and then suddenly glanced at the Observer Daily on the table. He rolled his eyes, picked up the newspaper, pointed to the illustrations about the poor at the bottom, and spoke in a heavy and sad tone. said:

"I just thought again about those poor people who have no fixed place to live and no food to eat. Their situation really makes me sad. I think that half a million livres is definitely not enough to get them out of their predicament. I I am willing to spend 6 million, no, 7 million livres, as Your Excellency Bonaparte said, to cooperate with His Royal Highness the Crown Prince in helping them!”

Crown Prince Louis glanced at Montmartre in surprise, and then turned to look at Lawrence. He had no idea that Lawrence would make this stingy businessman change his mind in just a few conversations, and even add an extra million livres. you.

"Oh? That's seven million livres. Can you take it out within three days?" Lawrence asked with a smile while playing with the salad on the plate.

Mr. Montmartre gritted his teeth and patted his chest hard:

"You can rest assured, Your Excellency Bonaparte, if I can't do it, I will go directly back to my hometown in Poitou to retire, and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince can witness it!"

"Tsk, tsk, I can't believe that you actually have the strength to spend seven million livres in three days."

Lawrence pretended to be very cooperative and exclaimed:

"It seems that I just said that you are fully capable of serving as His Highness's advisor, and General Philip will definitely be very satisfied with you."

"Hehehe, where is it?" Mr. Montmartre still smiled and asked with some worry:

"Well, Your Excellency, are you sure General Philip really intends to marry his niece?"

Lawrence chuckled and said, "Aren't you still relieved to have me as the introducer?"

In those famous families, political marriages are a common occurrence.

Although the woman has the title of earl and a small fiefdom, she is nothing more than a collateral and unappreciated family member.

If Lawrence personally came to talk to Lieutenant General Jacques Philippe, General Philippe would basically not reject the marriage.

After all, traditional nobles like the Choiseul family have always been weak in financial resources. Since these traditional nobles refused to get involved in business and industry, their income basically relied on fiefdom output and royal tribute.

Of course, these incomes cannot support their extremely luxurious life. Many nobles are actually living on the family's capital.

This is why, after the popularity of workshop production and the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, more and more traditional aristocrats were forced to file for bankruptcy and sell their hereditary lands to industrial owners.

Although the Duke of Choiseul seemed to enjoy all the glory and wealth, and could even gift Lawrence a large mansion on the Champs Elysées, his net worth was very small or even negative.

In history, the Duke of Choiseul did not even leave a penny of his family property after his death. Instead, he left endless debts to his wife and family.

Under such circumstances, Lieutenant General Jacques Philippe would most likely not refuse to include the son of an extremely wealthy banker into his family, even if the other party was a civilian.

At the dinner table, Mr. Montmartre, who had received Lawrence's approval, could no longer sit still.

He poured himself a full glass of wine, drank it directly in front of Lawrence and Prince Louis as a sign of respect, and then left, saying that he would immediately raise the seven million livres.

"What a anxious gentleman."

Lawrence listened to the footsteps of Mr. Montmartre leaving in a hurry, shrugged and smiled:

"He hasn't even finished the bread before dinner."