yournovel Chapter 175 The Beginning of a Personal Assistant
Chapter 175 The Beginning of a Personal Assistant
Chapter 175 The Beginning of a Personal Assistant
In the garage of the villa in Hidden Mountain City, Ernst stood at the boundary between shadow and light, the light shooting sharply at Muller beside him like a hawk, his brows furrowed into a deep furrow.
"What is this?" His deep, magnetic voice broke the silence in the garage.
Just as Muller was about to speak, a clear yet slightly spoiled voice came from behind him, "The car."
Ernst's forehead was instantly covered with black lines, as if countless ants were crawling on it.
He suppressed his anger and muttered to himself: Am I stupid? This behemoth in front of me, its gleaming black body gleaming with a cold, hard sheen under the lights, how could I not tell it was a car?
He took a deep breath, trying to make his tone sound calm, but a slight tremor in his voice betrayed his emotions. "I mean, what's going on with this Hummer?"
Anne blinked her innocent, doe-like eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering, her face full of naivety, seemingly oblivious to Ernst's displeasure. "I had the car dealership deliver it this morning."
Ernst felt his temples throbbing. If this woman in front of him wasn't from the Kennedy family, he would make sure she knew what it meant to be ruthless and cruel.
He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, then slowly released them. He repeated this several times before he could barely calm himself down.
After calming down, he said, word by word, "I mean, where did my Rolls-Royce go? Why did my car turn into a Hummer?"
He emphasized the word "mine," stressing that he should have the final say on what kind of car they should ride in.
"Because I like it?" Annie tilted her head, her tone carrying a hint of matter-of-fact. "Your car is so tacky, the black body is so lifeless, it has no energy at all. I think this car is wild enough, it'll look so cool on the road."
As she spoke, she reached out and patted the Hummer's thick door, making a dull thud.
Ernst didn't want to waste another word with her. He felt his IQ was plummeting, and he was afraid he would explode if he continued talking to her.
He turned and walked quickly out of the garage, his leather shoes making a thumping sound on the ground.
Arriving at the flowerbed by the garage entrance, he took out his phone, his fingers trembling slightly with speechlessness, and finally managed to dial a number.
The moment the call connected, Massim's languid voice came through, accompanied by a woman's coquettish murmur, "Oops, you're stepping on my hair."
The soft, sweet voice made Ernst's already bad mood even more irritable. "Now, right now, immediately, come to Los Angeles and feed your precious baby—?"
Before Ernst could finish speaking, the phone went dead.
He froze for a moment, his hand holding the phone hanging in mid-air, as if he hadn't yet realized what had just happened.
I tried calling again, but all I heard was a cold, unresponsive voice saying, "The number you dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later."
Ernst was so angry he wanted to slam the phone to the ground. He turned around and saw Annie standing at the garage door. Annie looked completely clueless, her big eyes filled with "I don't know what happened," as if everything that had just happened had nothing to do with her.
At that moment, Ernst deeply regretted agreeing to Massim's condition.
I was planning to treat you like royalty, but you've become too familiar with me and are really acting like you're the boss.
Ernst put his phone back in his pocket, waved at Muller, and said curtly, "Go and bring my car over."
.
Muller nodded, not daring to say another word, and turned to walk quickly toward the spare garage on the other side of the villa.
Not long after, the car stopped next to Ernst. He opened the car door and got in, and saw Anne standing next to the car pouting, looking very unwilling, as if getting into the car was a very aggrieved thing.
Ernst said irritably, "If you're not coming up, then walk to the airport yourself."
Upon hearing this, Annie stopped dawdling and reluctantly got in, then slammed the car door shut as if venting her dissatisfaction.
The two of them were like a sulking young couple, sitting in the car staring at each other, neither willing to speak first.
The atmosphere inside the carriage was somewhat oppressive, with only slight noises coming from outside.
The car drove in silence towards the airport.
When they arrived at the airport, Ernst realized for the first time that Anne did have some use.
Massim's visit not only confirmed the formal cooperation between the two parties, but also brought him good news: John McCarthy had been persuaded to come out of retirement.
Ernst had no intention of waiting. After speaking with John McCarthy on the phone yesterday, he immediately had his private jet take off for Boston to pick up the elderly tycoon, showing him the utmost respect.
Therefore, Ernst had to charter a private jet to travel to Silicon Valley this time.
These trips used to be handled by Muller, but now that he has a personal secretary, they naturally fall to Anne.
After the car incident that morning, Ernst was worried that Anne would mess things up, but to his surprise, she actually handled things perfectly.
The car slowly drove into the airport and eventually stopped next to a private plane.
Ernst glanced at the Bombardier 604 parked nearby, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Is this your private jet?"
This aircraft is Bombardier's latest model, with sleek and beautiful lines. It is smaller than its Gulfstream and has a shorter maximum range, but it is very fuel-efficient, making it popular among the wealthy.
"How did you know?" Annie looked at the other person in surprise, her eyes wide open like two round black grapes.
Ernst rolled his eyes, thinking to himself: "I'm not blind. I can tell just by looking at the graffiti on the fuselage."
The words "Anne" were prominently displayed on the fuselage, and half of the fuselage was pink, making it look like a moving pink castle. Wasn't that obvious enough?
"This isn't your private jet, is it?" Ernst asked, somewhat incredulously.
These established, top-tier families truly spoil their children. What does it mean to raise a girl in luxury? Look at their lifestyle!
As it turned out, he was overthinking it, thinking, "This belongs to Massim."
Ernst was speechless for a moment. He opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word.
If Massim's phone had been able to get through, he would have definitely given the other person a good taunt right now, for making his private jet look so...girlish.
However, this also confirmed to him that Anne Bellis Kennedy's identity was not simple. If Massim could dote on her to this extent, could this girl be the daughter or granddaughter of the current patriarch of the Kennedy family?
Even if he isn't, he must be a member of an important branch of the Kennedy family, otherwise why would he receive such favor from Massim?
Upon boarding the plane, Ernst noticed that the interior design was much simpler, with black, white, and gray as the main colors, complemented by some dark wood furniture, giving it a calm and sophisticated feel.
Because the plane is small, it only has 11 seats in addition to a private bedroom.
Fortunately, Ernst wasn't the type to travel with a large entourage, otherwise there really wouldn't be enough seats.
He casually picked a sofa and sat down. The soft leather sofa enveloped his body, bringing a sense of comfort.
Then I watched as Annie picked up her small bag and went straight into her private bedroom to rest, without even saying goodbye.
Ernst's earlier praise for Anne vanished instantly. He shook his head helplessly, feeling increasingly like a subordinate.
"Sir, what service do you need?" Not long after I sat down, the flight attendant came over with a smile, her voice as gentle as a spring breeze on a lake.
"Just a cup of coffee will do, thank you," Ernst replied with a smile, trying to make his tone sound as friendly as possible.
His gaze inadvertently swept over the flight attendant, a mature woman, the kind who was fully mature and exuded the charm of a mature woman.
The foundation on the other person's face spread out in a thin, translucent layer on their skin, perfectly concealing minor imperfections and creating a natural look as if it were real skin texture.
The milk tea-colored eyeshadow on the eye socket was blended very vaguely, like a thin mist, softening the contours of the eyes.
Her eyelashes were clearly defined and curled up, casting a light shadow when she blinked, adding a touch of charm.
Her lips were full and defined, and the dark lipstick made her look quite glamorous.
Her hair was neatly secured with hairpins, giving her a capable and tidy appearance, but two wisps of hair were deliberately left out at her temples, swaying gently in the wind and releasing a restless energy.
However, the thought that this might be one of Massim's lovers made him lose interest.
"By the way, when does the plane take off?" Ernst asked after the other person stood up from his half-squatting position.
In the United States, owning a private plane doesn't mean you can just come and fly.
There are far too many private jets in the United States, more than 10,000. Especially on the East and West coasts, in major cities like Los Angeles and New York, the number of private jets taking off every day starts in the hundreds.
This is mainly due to American law, which allows buyers to avoid all taxes when purchasing a private jet, essentially giving them a free private jet.
Ernst remembers clearly that things got even worse after Trump's new tax law was signed in 2017.
Not only will you no longer have to pay back taxes over several years like you do now, but you can get the full amount deducted in the same year. Moreover, all expenses for private jet travel that are related to business can be deducted from taxes.
What does this mean? It means that the government will cover all the costs associated with owning a private jet.
It has to be related to business? That's easy, just set up a company wherever you go on vacation.
Many wealthy people do this, exploiting legal loopholes to legally avoid taxes.
"We have two more planes ahead of us waiting to take off, which should take about twenty minutes," the flight attendant replied with a smile, her voice still gentle and pleasant.
Ernst nodded, signaling the other person to step back, then picked up the briefing document placed beside him and began to read it carefully.
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