New York, The Plaza Hotel.
Elena put down the phone, looking at Eric with an amused expression.
"My two poor nieces, you've played them right into your hands. As their aunt, my heart aches."
Eric walked back from the French window and couldn't help but snort, "I'd be a fool to believe you."
"What? You don't believe me?"
Eric thought, "How can I believe you? Everything you do is the exact opposite of what you say. What am I supposed to believe with? My head!"
If he really had to use his head to believe her, that woman would definitely ask if he meant his big head or his little head.
"I believe you, I believe you very much, Elena. Thank you for everything you've done for me, alright?"
"Hmph! Such a reluctant expression. I forgot to ask you something: what's your relationship with that Chinese mother and daughter we met at the Flinn Dale Restaurant?"
"No relationship at all. I met them once when I was in China, and that's it."
"Hmm? Is it that simple? That middle-aged woman, I saw a different kind of look in her eyes. The way she looked at you was not right."
Eric clutched his fist in exasperation: "Elena, you work at a bank, not as a private detective. Do you think you're Sherlock Holmes? Or do you think any woman who talks to me must have a relationship with me?"
Elena leaned back against the pillow, arms crossed: "You little rascal, there's not a single truthful word in your mouth. I'm not that silly girl Maria, to be fooled by you so easily."
"Heh heh, the only reason I could fool them was thanks to your strong support as their aunt."
"Then how will you repay me?"
"Haven't I already fed you milk? The doctor even said my quality is very high, and it's good for beauty and nourishment."
Elena licked her lips. She had to admit, Eric's milk tasted really good, with a sweet aroma of oranges and pineapples mixed together.
According to research, only a very healthy body that also eats a lot of fruit can produce this slightly sweet protein, making it an excellent drink.
She beckoned with her finger: "Come here!"
"I won't!"
"Come here, quickly!"
"What do you want to do?"
"You're leaving tomorrow, what do you think I want to do?"
Eric could only sigh: "Alas! It's inevitable to walk this path of execution after all."
He reluctantly climbed into bed, holding Elena in his arms, and his large hand began to explore.
"Why are you in such a hurry! It's dry."
Elena slapped his hand away.
"Let's finish quickly and rest early. I really have a business meeting at Hasbro tomorrow; it's already scheduled."
"You want to finish quickly, do you? Then hurry up and help me."
"Huh?"
"I haven't heard enough yet. Keep telling me how you did it with Ashley and Maria."
Eric kissed her neck: "How do you have such a hobby? I never noticed it before."
"Because I've never met anyone as bad and greedy as you before. Hurry up, I can't wait to hear you tell me, tell me how you got in!"
Elena tilted her head back slightly, muttering indistinctly as Eric narrated, her hands gripping him tighter and tighter like iron clamps.
Every revealed detail made her more excited.
Until a high-pitched cry, her entire being seemed to reach the clouds, entering an unprecedented new world.
The next morning, after breakfast, the two kissed goodbye.
"Little guy, you did well last night. I look forward to our next meeting."
Eric waved his hand, signaling her to stop talking and that she could leave.
He watched the panamera drive away, then hailed a taxi himself.
As expected, he was pulled up for an extra meal by Elena in the middle of the night yesterday. He knew that woman wouldn't let him off easily, otherwise, how could she look so radiant in the morning?
"These women, why are they all the same? It's as if they won't be satisfied until they've driven me to death!"
He calculated that he had spent several hours with the Olsen Sisters in the early hours of Friday.
He had spent several hours with Nicole on Friday night.
And on Saturday, Elena had kept him busy for half the night with her 'Ice and Fire Chef' routine.
Rubbing his kidney, Eric was genuinely worried that if this continued, he might suddenly drop dead in bed.
On a horse, how awful would that sound!
He sighed helplessly, but what could he do? He could only blame himself for being too outstanding.
The women he attracted were all beauties with both looks and status.
Facing their seduction, it was too difficult to maintain self-control, and his 'brother' was very vigorous. There was truly nothing he could do.
If they were like Sister Feng or Ruhua, even if those women tried their best to show themselves off,
Eric would be doing well not to give them an electric punch and a flying kick, guaranteeing that this situation wouldn't occur.
The car arrived in front of a luxurious mansion. To own such a house in a wealthy area meant the owner was no ordinary person.
He walked across the lawn and rang the doorbell. After a moment, a young and beautiful maid opened the door.
"Sir, are you...?"
Eric tilted his head, seeing Sergei Hassenfield in a bathrobe through the crack in the door.
The other person also happened to glance over, recognized Eric, and quickly said, "Maria, move aside quickly, you almost turned away my best friend."
The maid quickly ushered Eric in, and the two embraced, patting each other on the back.
Sergei laughed heartily: "Eric, long time no see, you look really good."
Eric pinched his somewhat dry face: "This is called 'good'?"
"Hahaha, I've seen plenty of gossip about you lately. Nicole Kidman, Gal Gadot, Reese Witherspoon, Evangeline Lilly, with women on both arms, you must be very comfortable, looking like you've been indulging too much."
Eric shook his head slightly: "Sergei, you should read fewer gossip tabloids. Those are all fabricated, not a single word of truth."
"Is that so? You have no relation with these female stars?"
"Of course not! It's not like if MGM makes a movie, the female lead has to have something happen with me, right? Do you think I'm Harvey Weinstein?"
"What's wrong with Harvey Weinstein?" Sergei asked curiously.
"That guy, hmph hmph!"
Eric sneered a few times: "Rumor has it that his office has a red sofa, specifically for 'making out'. Actresses who want to get a role have to lie down on the red sofa. Do I need to tell you what happens after they lie down?"
Upon hearing this, Sergei showed an envious expression: "Your entertainment industry is so good! I remember Weinstein is the boss of Miramax Film Company, right? A company that's not too big can have so much fun. It's truly enviable."
Eric nodded: "Although Miramax's scale isn't top-tier, it's backed by Disney. With Disney's financial support, Harvey Weinstein is naturally unbridled."
"But it's not as exaggerated as you imagine. At most, he only uses his power to exploit newcomers and minor celebrities; he can't exploit the big names."
"I heard that Angelina Jolie and Gwyneth Paltrow were both harassed by him before they became famous, but whether he succeeded or not, only the parties involved know."
Sergei was a little incredulous: "Really? Didn't Gwyneth Paltrow win an Oscar Winner for shakespeare in love? That movie was also from Miramax, right?"
"I remember the media photos at the time; she even took a friendly photo with Harvey Weinstein. Their relationship looked excellent, with no hint of reluctance at all."
"Heh heh, would you openly contradict your uncle in public?"
Sergei immediately showed an expression of deep agreement: "That makes sense. Moreover, with the added prestige of an Oscar Winner, even if it's a fly, you have to eat it with a smile, right?"
"Exactly. Actors, to put it bluntly, are tools to please the public and capital. For good resources and awards, let alone flies, many people are willing to eat even feces!"
Sergei shrugged: "Hearing you say that, my filter for Kate Winslet is almost shattered. Is every actor like that?"
"I can't say every one; there's nothing absolute in the world, but most of them. I don't know Winslet, so I won't comment. Perhaps she's a pure white lotus untainted by the mud; you can continue to hold onto your fantasy."
At this moment, the maid Maria brought over two glasses of light blue liquid, which looked somewhat cloudy.
Eric frowned: "What is this? It doesn't look like alcohol."
Sergei picked it up and drank it all in one gulp, then excitedly pointed to his arm: "Of course it's not alcohol. This is a functional drink I specially commissioned an expert to prepare. Drinking one glass every day is very good for your health."
After smelling it, Eric's frown deepened even further.
"The taste doesn't seem very good? Are you sure this is a drink?"
"Of course! Drink it. It will be beneficial for our upcoming activities."
"What activities? Did you order takeout? It's not appropriate at your house, what if your wife comes back?"
Sergei snorted angrily: "Don't mention that woman. This is my house, not hers. She has her own house."
"Now, in non-essential situations, we don't meet. Everyone does their own thing; mutual non-interference is best!"
Eric was a little surprised. When they last spoke, their marital relationship hadn't deteriorated to this extent. It seemed Sergei had been having a harder time lately.
Patting his shoulder, Eric picked up the drink and chugged it down. The bitter taste almost made him vomit.
"Buddy, what did you put in this thing?"
Sergei, on the other hand, laughed happily: "It's good that it's bitter. Life is this painful. This bitterness can make us not forget our humiliation."
"Come with me. I'm not playing with women anymore; it's boring after a while. I've found a new hobby, even more exciting!"
As they spoke, the two came to the back hall. When the door opened, a boxing ring came into view.
"Hmm? What is this?"
Eric pointed at the boxing ring in surprise.
"Here, this is my new hobby. Sports in the ring are much more fun than sports in bed!"
Sergei threw over a pair of boxing gloves, then changed his clothes and climbed in himself.
"Come on up, Eric, are you afraid of me, a forty-year-old man? Look at your young muscles, come on and play."
At this moment, a door to an adjacent room was pushed open, and several sexy bikini-clad women walked out.
They surrounded Eric directly, helping him change into sportswear with many hands, and seeing how excited these women were, he wondered how many times he had been touched inappropriately.
"Alright, then let's play. But I haven't learned boxing, and I don't understand the rules."
Sergei patted his cheek: "It's okay, I just started learning too. Remember not to hit the face and below the belt, otherwise, it's fine."
With that, the old man had already started moving left and right, slowly bouncing: "Come on, Eric, use your strength. Only by truly hitting out will you get release!"
After saying that, he launched his attack, punches raining down like raindrops.
Eric wasn't lying; he really hadn't practiced, so he dodged whenever he could, and if he couldn't, he tried to block with his arms, but blocking everything was impossible.
The bikini-clad beauties below screamed wildly, as if cheering them on.
This kind of friendly sparring certainly wouldn't have a three-minute limit; they'd fight until they couldn't anymore.
A few minutes later, even through the boxing gloves, Eric still felt a burning pain in his body.
But that was all. The amount of exercise in those few minutes had already depleted most of Sergei's stamina; he was visibly flagging.
After enduring for a few minutes, Eric no longer held back. He swung his fists, aiming for the other's entire body.
Back, chest, arms, abdomen, and even his butt accidentally took a hit.
Finally, Sergei managed to return a few blows before being knocked down by Eric's punch, lying on the ring, covered in sweat and gasping for breath.
"How many minutes?"
"Almost nine minutes, sir! You've improved again," Maria replied.
Sergei laughed heartily, took off his gloves, and pointed to the side. Eric also lay down, his body equally covered in sweat.
"How was it, young man? Isn't this sport very interesting? Much more fun than being in bed, right?"
"Yes, it's indeed a very good experience. Although it wasn't long, in those few minutes I forgot everything. My mind was left only with the thought of attacking. It's very stimulating and very suitable for venting emotions."
"Exactly, boxing is great for venting emotions. You know what? In Germany during World War II, boxing was particularly popular because the war made everyone tense, and everyone needed an outlet."
Eric mused: "Sergei, are you not doing well lately? Are you under a lot of pressure?"
Sergei didn't speak.
"Let me guess, is it about your uncle Allen?"
Hearing Allen's name, he waved his hand in annoyance: "Don't mention that old man. He always likes to go crazy. Many people wish he would die sooner."
"Is that so? Are there so many people at Hasbro who dislike him? Then why not vote him out?" Eric asked tentatively.
Sergei shook his head and sighed helplessly: "Allen is Hasbro's largest shareholder. Of course, a major shareholder isn't irreplaceable, nor can he not be sidelined. It's just that the company has developed quite well under his leadership, and everyone is making money, so who would be willing to stir up trouble?"
"If a shareholders' meeting were truly called to remove Allen, who would take the lead? And who could guarantee that the person who takes over would definitely do better than Allen? Or make more money than Allen?"
"It's like those entertainment stars you just mentioned. Even if it's a pile of excrement, as long as it's coated in chocolate, it's exquisite excrement, and people are still willing to eat it."
After a pause, Eric slowly asked, "If a capable person could compete with Allen in terms of shares, would the other shareholders of Hasbro choose this person?"
Upon hearing this, Sergei laughed heartily: "Don't joke around, where would you find such a person? Among the individual shareholders of the company, my shareholding percentage is already the second highest, but it's still far behind Allen's."
"Some hidden investment institutions might hold more shares than Allen, but what they want is profit. As long as Allen can create value, why replace him? The remaining retail investors are even less likely."
"If such a person truly appeared, I would be very happy to help him. I've had enough of that old man!"
Regardless of whether Sergei's answer was true or false, Eric was pleased to see his emotional dissatisfaction, at least indicating that Hasbro's internal structure was not monolithic.
He pulled Sergei up and comforted him, saying, "Don't worry, such a person will appear."