The photography technology of this era shouldn't be used for improper purposes, right? Sheffield couldn't help but think along these lines. It wasn't until the girl left the room that he slowly spoke, "Isn't she a bit too young?"
"As for me, your father, I am a loyal person. When I was your age, I liked young women, and at my current age, I still like young women. Besides, I'm not old," Harry Sheffield turned to make a face in the mirror, seemingly lost in his own fantasy.
"At this age, I thought you would have become more traditional." Sheffield secretly grimaced. If it weren't for your wealth, could you embrace women around your son's age?
"Now I am quite shocked by the loss of traditional culture. After all, the mistress culture of France has a long history. These women are going to sleep with men anyway, so why not with me?" Harry Sheffield put down the empty glass in his hand lazily and said, "I've lived in a privileged environment since I was a child. Whether there is one more or one less in the family business makes no difference to me. So why should I live so hard? Isn't it better to leave time to enjoy life?"
"I don't like the life planned for me by your mother. You probably joined the Texas Club when you went to school, right? Don't look at me like that. I joined it when I was in school too." Harry Sheffield shrugged helplessly, "Back then, how dare I defy my mother's plans? I followed her vision step by step, living a life I didn't like, until after we got married and you were born, and your mother passed away. Then I couldn't take it anymore and decided to live for myself."
Harry Sheffield seemed like a gossiping housewife, perhaps delighted to see his son, rambling on and on. He was full of bitterness about his youthful life and found an implausible excuse for his current lifestyle.
"But if you keep living like this, even in a wealthy family, it won't be enough." Sheffield didn't agree with his cheap father's viewpoint, but he didn't know where to start refuting him.
"Isn't that why I have you? Think about it. When I was young, I relied on my mother to support me, and now at this age, I rely on my son. Both my previous generation and the next are very capable. How easy my life has been!" Harry Sheffield proudly envisioned, "I won't do anything to the family business. If you like, you can inherit it directly. Based on my understanding of Mother, she will probably give it to you directly without my share. And you don't have to worry about anyone competing with you for inheritance rights. I don't have any illegitimate sons, though I do have two illegitimate daughters in Paris. They won't compete with you for anything. I won't allow it, and even if they want to do something, Mother won't let any trouble arise."
Harry Sheffield spoke calmly, showing a kind of transcendence in eating for free. Anyway, this was how he had lived.
"If this scum weren't my father, would I pull out a gun and shoot him?" Sheffield clenched his mouth and took several deep breaths before feeling a little better. This second-generation heir was simply affecting the image of Union citizens in Europe, almost insulting America.
Harry Sheffield didn't think much and continued flipping through his phone records, his finger stopping on a name called Susan, "This is a countess from the Second Empire period. She seems to have good relations with the judicial department."
"The Second Empire period? The one where Napoleon's nephew lost to Germany?" Sheffield shook his head and smiled bitterly. Wasn't this using the sword of the previous dynasty to cut down officials of the current dynasty?
"Don't mention Germany in front of the French, hmm? Also, the British. They will be unhappy. Moreover, European countries value noble status highly and take pride in it." Harry Sheffield carefully put away his cherished phone book and advised earnestly, "Of course, when they're in bed, they're no different from ordinary women. Since my son has come to Paris once in a while, I'll help you this time. Rest. I'll go out for a while first."
It was about time. There was still a cocktail party! Harry Sheffield took out his pocket watch, thinking he couldn't delay important matters.
"Alas!" Sheffield felt that placing hope in his father seemed to be a wrong decision.
Bang! Less than ten seconds later, Harry Sheffield returned, reaching out his hand, "I've decided to host a cocktail party and invite some celebrities. This is for the family's affairs. Shouldn't you give me some activity funds?"
"Do we need to be so clear about this?" Sheffield looked at him incredulously, exaggeratingly saying, "The surprises you've given me today are more than I've encountered in my entire life. I thought nothing would shock me in my lifetime, but it turns out I was wrong!"
"How much?" Sheffield looked impatient, taking out a deposit slip from the Banque de France. After all, he was his father.
But he also knew that money was essential. France had the nickname of usurious imperialism. This trend was obvious not only in 1895 but even earlier.
Because financiers were unwilling to invest most of their capital in developing domestic industries and agriculture, they preferred to lend capital abroad for greater, guaranteed profits. Speculation on the Paris Stock Exchange reached unprecedented scales. It was during the Second Empire period that the Paris Stock Exchange became one of the world's most important financial centers. Bankers, financiers, and big industrialists made huge fortunes through stock exchange speculation.
This situation continued to this day. It wasn't that France was useless except for finance. It depended on who you compared it to. Except for being inferior to Britain and Germany, France was still a formidable presence in Europe.
The French invested nationwide, which was why Harry Sheffield quickly established himself in Paris. Moreover, the environment here was much better than London, especially for him.
Paris was not short of grand halls for hosting cocktail parties, and Harry was clearly an expert in this field. He introduced each guest to his son without caring that Sheffield was already overwhelmed by cologne.
"There are financiers, bankers, nobles, factory owners!" Harry was still introducing guests to his son when suddenly his eyes lit up as he approached a mother and daughter dressed as noblewomen, happily saying, "Countess and Miss, it's been such a long time."
The Countess glanced at Harry Sheffield, nodded slightly, and said in a voice audible to both, "You used to call me Susan, now you call me Countess. In a while, there will be no trace of me."
"How could that be? Madam has taken care of me for a long time; Harry won't forget." Harry Sheffield raised an eyebrow knowingly and said, "Madam is becoming more and more charming."
"Flattery!" Susan muttered inaudibly, holding her daughter's hand and following Harry Sheffield into the hall.
This was his stage. Sheffield looked up at the huge chandelier on the ceiling, feeling somewhat redundant at the moment.
(End of Chapter)