novelSusiti Chapter 273 The Crown Prince's Blueprint
Chapter 273 The Crown Prince's Blueprint
Chapter 273 The Crown Prince's Blueprint
The following evening, the living room of the official residence, which had once been a place of oppression and humiliation, underwent a complete transformation.
The servants worked tirelessly all day. A heavy Persian carpet replaced the cold stone floor; though somewhat worn, it was scrubbed spotless. Every dusty inch of wooden furniture was polished to a gleaming shine, reflecting the roaring firelight from the fireplace. The air was filled with the scent of beeswax, completely masking the stubborn musty smell.
More importantly, a rich, authentic Greek aroma was wafting from the kitchen—the caramelized scent of rosemary on roasted lamb chops, the salty savory aroma of feta cheese mixed with olive oil, and the freshly baked, anise-scented bread.
The long dining table was devoid of the dazzling, opulent silverware often found at British banquets; instead, it was adorned with simple, clean sets of white porcelain tableware. In the center of the table hung several bunches of white daffodils, bought from the local flower market, glistening with dew.
Everything was simple and tasteful, yet every detail revealed the owner's composure and stubbornness.
Under the cover of night, the guests of the banquet arrived one after another in their private carriages. Their carriages were understated yet luxurious, and the drivers were well-trained, stopping silently in the shadows of the street.
The Larlis brothers arrived first; one lean and the other muscular, they controlled the family's trading network spanning India and the Black Sea. Next came Stephen Wagliano, an old banker with gray hair and hawk-like eyes; his name alone carried weight in the City of London.
Each of them possessed wealth enough to make the Greek government's annual revenue drool. They arrived with caution, curiosity, and perhaps a hint of barely perceptible disdain. They entered this unremarkable official residence in London, saw its simple furnishings, and saw the young crown prince standing before the fireplace, dressed in a well-fitting but not formal dark suit, calmly awaiting them.
Constantine didn't greet him at the door; that would have seemed deliberate and humble. He stood in the center of the living room, like a young family leader, waiting in his own home for a respected elder who had traveled from afar.
Welcome home.
Constantine spoke in perfect Greek; this was his first sentence.
This simple sentence caused a moment of disorientation for several business tycoons who were used to speaking English and French in various situations.
This was not a state banquet filled with diplomatic rhetoric.
Constantine did not discuss the victory in the war, nor did he denounce the arrogance of the British, nor did he mention the humiliating newspaper. He spoke entirely in Greek, discussing with these merchants the topics they knew best and cared about most.
“The Port of Piraeus is still too small,” Constantine said, pointing to a port planning map laid out by Alexandros. “Its throughput is not even comparable to that of a third-rate British port. I plan to triple its size within five years, building four modern deep-water berths capable of accommodating cargo ships of 10,000 tons.”
"The railway is the lifeblood of the nation." He switched to a different map, one of Greece. A thick red line stretched from Athens northward, plunging into the Thessalian plain and finally reaching Thessaloniki.
"This railway will run through Greece from north to south. Food and minerals from the north, and manufactured goods from the south, will flow efficiently through this artery. Goods unloaded at Thessaloniki can reach Athens within three days."
The elder of the Laris brothers, the lean man, fixed his gaze on the map. "Your Highness," he said, "the cost of this railway will be astronomical."
Constantine nodded and looked at the old banker, Vagliano.
"Therefore, I need a bank that belongs to the Greeks themselves."
He didn't ask for a single penny.
He simply presented them with a grand business blueprint.
He discussed the idea of establishing a "Greek National Development Bank," controlled by foreign capital like his own and backed by the royal family's national credit. This bank would be responsible for financing all infrastructure projects and would also serve as a reservoir for the repatriation of all Greek foreign capital.
He showed them that their merchant ships would sail freely and safely throughout the Aegean Sea under the protection of a powerful Greek navy, no longer needing to depend on the British Royal Navy.
He showed them that their investments would be fully guaranteed by a stable, efficient, and absolutely pro-business homeland government, and that the profits would far exceed the meager gains they made in the London bond market.
These seasoned veterans of the business world, who had been navigating the treacherous waters of commerce for decades, initially approached the conversation with scrutiny and wariness. But as Constantine narrated, their bodies unconsciously leaned forward, their gazes shifted from calm to focused, and the occasional questions they posed became increasingly sharp and specific, moving beyond mere politeness.
How can the legal issues surrounding land expropriation be resolved?
Who will guarantee security along the railway line?
How can banks control the risk of bad debts?
Constantine answered fluently. Beside him, Venizelos produced documents at opportune moments, using detailed legal provisions and data models to answer their every question.
These businessmen discovered for the first time that the young crown prince and his equally young advisor possessed a deeper understanding of business and finance than some of their company's managers.
The atmosphere at the dinner party gradually became lively.
Towards the end of the dinner, a photographer from a Greek newspaper, who had been "invited" to document the delegation's life in London, appeared at the living room doorway carrying a huge flash camera.
Alexandros gave Constantine a wink.
Constantine stood up, raised his glass, and said with a smile, "Gentlemen, for the future of Greece, shouldn't we take a group photo to commemorate this moment?"
The leaders exchanged glances, then all smiled knowingly. They rose to their feet.
The spotlight flashed with a "bang," and the blinding white light instantly illuminated the entire room.
In the still image, Constantine stands at the center, surrounded by a group of some of the world's wealthiest Greeks. They stand close together, like a united and powerful family. These bankers and shipping magnates, who initially approached with scrutiny, now display an excitement fueled by opportunity.
After the flash, the eldest banker, Vagliano, tremblingly raised his glass. His cloudy eyes, however, now gleamed with a sharp light.
"Your Highness, please allow me to propose a toast as well."
He cleared his throat, his voice booming.
"For a Greece worthy of our glorious heritage —"
He paused, glanced around at his companions, and a shrewd smile appeared on his lips.
"—Also for our future, highly profitable investments!"
"For the sake of investment!" the Larlis brothers echoed in unison.
The dinner concluded in a warm atmosphere. No agreements were signed, but an invisible yet powerful alliance, built on capital and kinship, had quietly taken shape.
As these bankers departed in their private carriages, far more luxurious than the official ones, beams of light pierced the thick fog, illuminating the secluded London street as if it were daytime.