My Manor

"Okay, that's it!"

After hesitating for about five minutes, Jiang Hai gritted his teeth and stamped his foot. He couldn't bear to part with his wife. Well, he really couldn't bear to part with his wife—but it wasn't Qi Li...

Regardless, he would have to drive these boats in the future. For now, he would treat it as an investment. It would be nice to take them out when the time came. Besides, if his armor really sold for a high price, he would make a fortune.

"Alright, I'll take care of it for you now." After hearing Jiang Hai hesitate, then finally agree, the sales associate, Jennifer, brightened up. It seemed this guy was really wealthy.

Recently, people had been saying that the Chinese were rich, but she hadn't seen much proof—after all, this was the East Coast. However, Jiang Hai's generosity left a deep impression on her. It seemed the rumors were true.

"Hurry up, I don't know how long I can keep up this level of determination." Hearing Jennifer's words, Jiang Hai took a deep breath and handed over his Centurion Black Gold Card, trying not to look at it. The thought of spending so much money was painful.

"Alright, please wait." After taking Jiang Hai's Black Gold Card, Jennifer moved to the side and spoke into her intercom, making a call to her team. Seeing that she was deliberately keeping her conversation private, Jiang Hai didn't bother trying to eavesdrop. Instead, he stood still, staring at the massive yacht in front of him, feeling a wave of emotions.

Raphael. That was a prestigious name. He could only hope this boat lived up to it and wouldn't become a source of regret.

Just as Jiang Hai was lost in thought, a group of people approached from a distance.

Leading them was another sales associate, but this one was not a young beauty—he was a middle-aged man with a balding head that hinted at a Mediterranean heritage. Despite the sweltering Miami heat, he was dressed in a full suit. Jiang Hai had to admit—the guy had endurance. At this moment, the man had a sycophantic smile plastered across his face as he fawned over the man beside him.

And that man was clearly no ordinary customer.

He was an obvious Arab, with tanned skin, large eyes, and a neatly trimmed mustache. He wore a traditional white thobe, common attire in the Arabian Peninsula. In fact, suits were not as prevalent there; traditional dress remained the norm.

Flanking the Arab man were four imposing bodyguards. At a glance, their presence screamed professionalism. Among them were also three women wrapped in thick black veils—another testament to traditional Arabian customs.

Led by the Mediterranean salesman, the group slowly approached the yacht Jiang Hai had been admiring.

"Dear Mr. Dufamen-Weiha-Mohammed-bin-Rashid-Al-Maktoum, this is the yacht I just mentioned. Does its appearance meet your expectations? While it may be a bit small for someone of your stature, if you're simply looking to take your wives and concubines out to sea, this would be the perfect choice. This model is in high demand—there's only one left." Standing in front of Jiang Hai, the salesman beamed obsequiously as he introduced the yacht to the Arab tycoon.

Jiang Hai wasn't particularly pleased with the intrusion, but he understood that Arab tycoons were not people he could afford to offend. So, he remained silent, not one to pick unnecessary fights. That said, he was growing increasingly certain that the yacht they were eyeing was his.

With that realization, he frowned and took a step forward. The movement instantly triggered the Arab's four bodyguards, who turned their sharp gazes toward him, brimming with vigilance.

Jiang Hai's finely tuned instincts immediately registered the aura radiating from these men. It was an aura of seasoned warriors. If the bodyguards he had encountered when dealing with Qin Feng on Miami Beach were akin to wolves, these four were lions—more experienced, more ruthless, and far deadlier.

"I don't mean to interrupt," Jiang Hai said calmly, unfazed by their threatening presence, "but if this really is the last yacht, then I'm afraid you've come in vain."

"What do you mean?" The Mediterranean salesman turned to him, confused. He knew the Chinese had money, but they weren't as wealthy as Middle Eastern tycoons—especially the one standing beside him. To be precise, this man was a member of a royal family, someone who demanded the highest level of flattery. So, when addressing Jiang Hai, the salesman's tone was markedly less respectful, tinged with impatience. Meanwhile, the Arab tycoon also glanced at Jiang Hai, curious.

"What else could I mean? I already bought the yacht. My sales associate has already finalized the payment." Jiang Hai shrugged and gestured toward Jennifer, who was returning just in time.

Jennifer was unaware of the unfolding situation. She had just finished confirming the transaction with her supervisor over the phone, and the company had already dispatched a courier with the contract. Once Jiang Hai signed and completed the transaction, the yacht would officially be his.

As she approached Jiang Hai, she noticed the group surrounding him and, more importantly, the presence of someone she wasn't fond of.

"Jennifer, is this your client?" The Mediterranean salesman, identified as Director Barron, asked sharply.

"Yes, Director Barron. Is there a problem?" Jennifer replied coolly, handing Jiang Hai's card back to him. It was clear she had little respect for the man.

"I'm declaring this sale invalid. Take your customer to see another yacht." Barron's expression darkened as he issued the command.

"Oh, sorry, Director Barron, but I've already reported this to Director Davis. The transaction is in the system, and the contract is on its way. You don't have the authority to override it." Jennifer smiled, undeterred. Although Barron was a supervisor, he wasn't her direct superior, and she had no reason to fear him. More importantly, as a top salesperson, she was a major asset to the company. Barron lacked the power to fire or trouble her.

"Are you using Davis to pressure me?" Barron's face contorted in anger.

"It's not about pressure. Sales are first-come, first-served. Even if this goes to the head office, the outcome won't change." Jennifer's voice was firm.

Selling yachts wasn't an everyday occurrence. This particular sale was worth $5.35 million, and her commission alone would be nearly $300,000. There was no way she was letting that slip away.

"You—!" Barron fumed, ready to lash out.

He considered Jennifer foolish. Did she not understand the opportunity she was throwing away? An Arab tycoon was worth more in future deals than a single Chinese customer. He was livid at her stubbornness.

However, just as Jiang Hai prepared to step in, the Arab tycoon unexpectedly spoke.

"Mr. Barron, I believe the lady is correct."

Barron stiffened. "What do you mean, Mr. Dufamen-Weiha-Mohammed-bin-Rashid-Al-Maktoum?"

"This gentleman purchased the yacht first. There are rules to be followed, wouldn't you agree?" The tycoon chuckled, his words carrying weight.

For Middle Eastern royalty, money was just numbers. While they could use their wealth to exert pressure, they rarely needed to. The only people they acknowledged as equals were those who commanded a similar presence. Though he didn't know Jiang Hai's financial standing, the man's composure intrigued him.

With that, Barron fell silent. Since his coveted client had lost interest in the yacht, he had no reason to argue further.

(To be continued.)