CHAPTER 340: A WORLD IN MOURNING

Reports emerge in the early hours of the morning that Diana, Princess of Wales, has been injured in a car crash in Paris which has claimed the life of Dodi Fayed, the Harrods heir.

Within four hours, it is confirmed that Diana has died in hospital as a result of her injuries.

The United Kingdom and much of the rest of the world is plunged into widespread mourning.

The Liverpool–Newcastle United FA Premier League match, along with many other fixtures—including Manchester City and Everton—was cancelled as a mark of respect for the late Diana, Princess of Wales, who died earlier that day in a car crash in Paris.

Richard, as a young billionaire of the United Kingdom, naturally received an invitation to the ceremonial royal funeral of Princess Diana. This solemn event was organized by the Royal Household, with full support from the government.

The scale of public grief that followed Diana’s death was immense, a national mourning unlike anything seen in decades.

At 9:08 AM, the funeral procession began, with the coffin departing from Kensington Palace.

Diana’s brother Earl Spencer, her sons Princes William and Harry, Prince Charles, and Prince Philip walked behind the coffin—a now-iconic and heartbreaking image etched into the national memory.

The service was attended by around 2,000 people, including members of the royal family, celebrities, politicians, charity workers, and foreign dignitaries. Notable attendees included Richard, Elton John, Tom Hanks, Luciano Pavarotti, Prime Minister Tony Blair, and First Lady Hillary Clinton, who represented the United States.

After the service, as guests slowly filtered into small groups to speak with members of the Royal Family and those close to Diana, Richard stood back. He waited his turn—not out of shyness, but respect. He wasn’t there to be seen. He was there because, like millions of others, he had been moved by Diana’s humanity, her commitment to the forgotten, and her courage in challenging the boundaries of the monarchy.

When his moment came, he approached Earl Spencer and offered a firm handshake. His voice was low and steady.

"I can’t pretend to know your pain, sir, but I wanted to extend my deepest sympathies. The Princess meant a great deal to people far beyond these walls. Her work with AIDS patients, landmine victims... she didn’t just support causes—she gave people their dignity back. That kind of grace doesn’t fade."

Spencer gave a quiet nod of thanks, visibly moved. Richard continued, "I didn’t know her personally, but I admired her deeply. If there’s anything I can do—through my foundation or resources—to continue the efforts she championed, I’d be honored."

Later, he signed the condolence book with a short message: "To the People’s Princess—thank you for reminding the world that compassion is power. May your light guide us forward. —Richard M."

As he left the Abbey, the church bells rang—slow, deliberate. Each chime echoed the collective mourning of a nation.

After the burial ceremony was over, Richard immediately went to Blackburne’s Mews in London, where the London branch of Maddox Construction and Property Management was located. He was ready to switch gears and return to work, especially since football was still on an international break.

His focus was now on the gas tank redevelopment.

"What did you get from going to Kenton District Hall?"

Thankfully, everything had been arranged verbally before the United Kingdom officially entered its mourning period.

"On your behalf, I met with the mayor. After I told him we had received word that King’s Cross would undergo a major redevelopment, he didn’t deny it outright. Instead, he said the plan hadn’t been officially approved yet and that a consultation meeting would be held with all relevant stakeholders..."

King’s Cross is located in the central part of Camden, one of the 33 administrative districts in Greater London. Camden has long been considered underdeveloped, and by the end of the last century, 24 of the top 100 "poorest residential areas" in London were in King’s Cross.

According to official data, while the average unemployment rate in London was 4%, Camden’s was a staggering 7%.

In terms of infrastructure, King’s Cross was considered a post-industrial "brownfield" — filled with old industrial relics, lacking in public space, and featuring chaotic circulation in front of its two major rail stations, which affected their function as key transport hubs.

From a development perspective, King’s Cross, as Camden’s central district, was becoming increasingly important in London’s emergence as a global financial center. The growing shortage of housing and office buildings meant that large-scale redevelopment of King’s Cross was not just a possibility — it was inevitable.

After cross-checking various sources and confirming these facts, Richard agreed with Stuart’s earlier assessment for the first time and began actively supporting the land acquisition strategy around the "conjoined triplet" gas tanks.

"What’s your conclusion, Stuart?" Richard asked.

"My initial impression is that Kenton is definitely working on a plan for King’s Cross — but it’s not yet finalized. Even if they’ve already made up their minds internally, there are still several bureaucratic steps to go through. The problem is, by the time those steps are completed, this news will no longer be a secret in certain circles."

Indeed, if Richard’s only goal was to develop his own land, he could simply wait for the official announcement. But his ambition went far beyond that.

London was the heart of the United Kingdom, and as the first industrialized nation, land here was notoriously difficult to acquire — particularly in central districts. The Duke of Westminster’s real estate holdings alone were enough to make any developer envious.

However, most of London’s premium zones were already too crowded for new entrants. The Camden area — especially King’s Cross — was one of the last underdeveloped pockets within the city. Despite being full of slums and rundown zones, it remained off the radar for most major developers, who lacked interest in the area.

There was once a common saying among Londoners:"Everyone only passes through King’s Cross, but never goes to King’s Cross."

That summed up just how bleak the environment used to be.

But Richard had lived through the transformation once before. In his previous life, King’s Cross had seen a monumental resurgence. By then, the CBD surrounding the station had become one of London’s newest commercial powerhouses. As far as he could recall, the British headquarters of companies like Google, Facebook, Louis Vuitton, and Nike had all been established there.

For Richard, this was his moment. If he wanted to carve out a meaningful piece of London’s future real estate boom — in a city where property prices would steadily rise over the next decade — King’s Cross was the most promising target. Land prices were still relatively low compared to more developed districts, and participating in the large-scale redevelopment plan could be his golden ticket.

"Any updates on the status of the surrounding plots?" Richard asked.

"I’ve looked into it," Stuart replied. "There’s a 3-hectare warehouse zone west of our gas tank property. The ownership changed hands about a month and a half ago. The current owner is a real estate company tied to Viscount Bute."

"Viscount?" Richard raised an eyebrow.

Ah, nobility.

"Yes," Stuart confirmed, pulling out a map of the area and pointing to several marked locations.

"That land lies directly west of our gas tank plot," he explained.

He then moved his finger to a different mark on the southern side of the gas tank area.

"This other plot — roughly 2 hectares — was also sold about a month ago. It’s registered under a separate company, but based on ownership records, that company is also affiliated with the Bute family."

After reviewing the map and listening to Stuart’s explanation, Richard understood the full picture.

If he could acquire the Bute family’s land, he would be able to link it with his two existing parcels, creating a continuous 11.5-hectare development zone. That kind of landholding would unlock far more development potential, giving him a chance to plan large-scale projects and maximize his returns.

But if he failed to secure the Bute land, he’d be left with only two disconnected smaller plots — which would limit both design options and profitability. Even worse, if the gas tank land wasn’t developed quickly, it could drag down the value of his future projects. On the other hand, if Viscount Bute moved forward with their own plans, any development benefits might spill over and boost Richard’s land — but without his control or financial gain.

"Stuart," Richard said firmly, "keep investigating the rest of the plots around King’s Cross. See if there are any willing sellers, and provide me with a ballpark estimate of their value. I want this report finalized as soon as possible."

"Uhmm, I understand," Stuart nodded slowly, then paused as if something had just come to mind. "Ah, by the way, Richard—"

Richard, who was already halfway to the door, stopped and turned his head slightly. "What’s wrong?"

With an embarrassed expression, Stuart scratched the back of his head, clearly hesitant. "You know... before I started working with you, I used to be in the government, right?"

Richard nodded, indifferent. "Yes?"

"Well... I have a friend. He works at Goldman Sachs. He’s been looking for potential investors for a company his team is advising. They’re looking to raise capital," Stuart explained, cautiously.

Richard raised an eyebrow, still uninterested. He assumed it was just another small-cap startup. Out of politeness more than curiosity, he asked, "Which company?"

"Apple," Stuart replied plainly.

"..."

For a few long seconds, Richard stood frozen, staring at Stuart as if he hadn’t heard correctly.

"Say that again?"

Stuart, now growing visibly uncomfortable, gave a half-smile. "Apple. The computer company? I know it sounds a bit—"

Before he could finish, Richard had already closed the distance between them, gripping Stuart’s shoulder with such force that it made him flinch.

"Say that company name again!" Richard demanded, his voice rising, breath heavy with urgency.

Now Stuart was genuinely startled. "Apple! Apple Inc., the one from California! The one that makes those weird-colored computers no one’s buying right now!"

Richard’s eyes were blazing with intensity.

Apple.

That Apple.