At the villa in Syracuse where Leo was staying.
"I think the whole thing could have been handled more gently," Michael said with a trace of displeasure. "After all, this is Sicily."
"Michael, if you still want to 'go legit,' then you'll need to abandon the values you're clinging to now," Leo replied coldly. "The so-called European Recovery Plan may sound like investment support, but in truth, it's economic colonization — money first, military bases second. It's a form of predatory farming. Don't grow too fond of the cattle and sheep destined to end up on your dinner plate."
Leo's words plunged Michael into a long silence.
After what seemed like forever, Michael finally voiced the last question that still troubled him: "Was it really necessary to involve the U.S. military tonight? I mean... aren't they supposed to be guarding against the Red Empire? Shouldn't they be upholding some higher mission, not—"
"Not serving as lackeys for people like me?" Leo interrupted with a sneer. "Michael, America is a capitalist society. Power lies in the hands of the wealthy. And tonight in Sicily, who's wealthy? You, me — us. The American police serve us. The American military does, too."
Michael stood silent once again before quietly leaving, deep in thought.
Leo, however, having taken care of business, was now ready to enjoy his victory — and his pre-dinner dessert.
The girl, freshly bathed, was personally brought to Leo's room by her mother.
From the fluttering heart of the day, to the brutal abduction that night, to being rescued by the very man in front of her — there was no fear in the girl's heart, only anticipation. After all, who wouldn't feel grateful — even enchanted — by the man who had saved her from the ugly, fat, and terrifying mafia boss?
And what girl could feel disgust toward a man like Leo?
Malena asked herself honestly — this might be the most handsome man she had ever seen.
At this moment, the shyness of an Italian girl mingled with boldness. She lowered her head modestly, but took the initiative to lift the Bohemian-style towel wrapped around her body.
Under the dim light, water droplets on her fair skin glistened like stars, making her look like a goddess of the forest and water who had stepped out of a sacred spring.
The scent of Sicilian milk soap lingered on her, tantalizing Leo's already excited senses.
This fruit of harvest stood proudly against gravity — an impossible feat, unless the girl's body was as vibrant and firm as it appeared.
Leo stepped forward in one stride. He scooped the girl up into his arms, eliciting a surprised cry, and tossed her onto the bed.
Leo was reminded of the stories his grandfather used to tell him about drilling wells back in the village: "Only with a hard drill, a strong engine, and deep enough digging... can you reach the deepest water."
After their passionate encounter, Malena felt completely drained. She gulped down a large glass of water and collapsed back onto the bed like a puddle of mud.
This wasn't the romantic entanglement of a prince and princess she'd imagined. It was more like the story she loved as a child — Beauty and the Beast. Though her body ached, she was lost in ecstasy.
On Leo's last day in Sicily, at the Palermo Governor's Office, he signed a series of business contracts on behalf of American investors.
The most lucrative mining rights were not for himself, but for corporations like Alcoa and other major American mining companies. These U.S. giants, flush with World War II victory spoils, had begun their global land grab.
They entrusted Leo simply because they lacked the manpower. The real power players were still negotiating major deals in Germany, Scandinavia, and Australia.
Still, even without the best deals, Leo deeply understood the immense benefits of operating on behalf of national interests.
Sicily's grain, cash crops, and a population of 3 million would generate at least $10 million in wealth annually — even if Leo did nothing.
Leaving Italy, Leo headed to the Netherlands — alone. He had a personal reason: to visit Emily, who was studying in Austria.
As for Malena, Leo sent Lucas ahead with her to France, where she would be properly groomed and dressed — in preparation for the upcoming European Recovery Ball at the Palace of Versailles.
"Leo!" Emily leapt into his arms with joy.
The girl had changed a lot. The aristocratic European air was slowly reshaping her.
"I've been learning dance along with music," she whispered in Leo's ear. "I can do lots of interesting moves now..."
That night, Leo experienced the full spectrum of old European elegance.
With Emily bending backward under the moonlight, her voice like a nightingale's song, and her body proudly on display, Leo was both thrilled and enchanted.
Her leg stretches and splits made this one of Leo's most effortless and satisfying nights ever.
But happy times pass quickly.
Leo, bogged down with official duties, found himself in a bind — no flights available, and all military transport booked.
So, in Germany, he jumped the queue and bought himself a Mercedes-Benz 170V.
He sped toward the Netherlands overnight in the car, which topped out at 120 km/h. Without GPS, he relied on his military map-reading skills, but the cratered roads still made his butt suffer.
Battered and bruised, he finally made it into Amsterdam.
It was early spring, and the Low Countries were pouring rain. Leo tossed aside his useless map — Dutch maps were nothing like German ones. Total garbage.
Yep, Leo was lost.
Not a soul was on the street. He couldn't even ask for directions.
With only thirty minutes until the royal banquet began, it looked like he'd be late.
Just as he was about to give up, a blurry figure appeared in the downpour.
Salvation!
He slowed the car and stopped in front of the figure.
Rolling down the window, he saw a frail girl struggling to hold an umbrella against the wind and rain.
"Excuse me, do you know the way to the Royal Palace of Amsterdam?" Leo asked, unsure whether she spoke English.
Luckily, she did — but her voice was too soft and the rain too loud. He couldn't hear her.
"Hop in! It's pouring!"
She had been standing in the rain for a long time and was shivering from the cold. Still, she hesitated, eyed Leo carefully, then quickly opened the door and got in.
So handsome — he couldn't be a bad guy.
All females in the universe were the same.
"Here — dry off," Leo said, handing her a towel, warmed by the engine's heat.
The warmth slowly returned to the girl's body.
She looked at Leo shyly and said, "Thank you."
Wiping the rain from her face, Leo finally got a good look.
He blinked in surprise. No way. Could it really be... Audrey Hepburn?
Audrey blushed under his gaze and quietly repeated the palace directions.
Leo looked again to be sure, then started the car.
When they arrived at the Royal Palace, U.S. soldiers opened the door and held umbrellas, forming a rain-free path.
Leo stepped out, then turned to see Audrey staring at the glittering palace in awe.
In a flash of inspiration, Leo said, "Would you like to attend a royal banquet?"
Audrey had no idea why she said yes.
Soon she found herself in the ornate VIP dressing room, watching Leo change into an obviously expensive suit.
Reality hit her. What kind of event was she about to attend?
Panic.
"I—I'm sorry, sir, I—I must go. My mother's waiting for me."
How could Leo let the fish jump out of the bowl?
He sighed regretfully. "Ah, I've just turned down the partner the royals arranged for me. Well, I'll have someone escort you home. Shame, I'll be the laughingstock tonight."
Kind-hearted Audrey couldn't resist the trap. She hesitated.
"My dress — I don't have a gown."
"No problem," Leo replied.
As if on cue, the attendants brought in more than ten elegant gowns — all borrowed from the royal collection.
The dream of attending a high-society banquet, paired with the beautiful dresses, and a tall, handsome escort...
This was Cinderella in real life.
What girl could resist?
Audrey's reason was torn to shreds by her own desire.
"Now entering: Mr. Leo Valentino, Deputy Director of the American European Recovery Plan Real Estate Division, and his companion, Miss Audrey Hepburn."
It was only now that Audrey finally learned the name of the man she'd spent the last two hours with.
Inside the glittering Baroque-style ballroom, the nervous girl instantly transformed into a picture of elegance.
Though she'd never lived the life of a noble, years of influence from her baroness mother and her work as a resistance courier gave her poise under pressure.
Leo glanced at the girl clinging to his arm, knowing she would never be satisfied with poverty again.
The mermaid had taken the bait.
Meeting Audrey had been a coincidence. But the reason Leo had hurried to this event wasn't just the schedule — it was also to meet Augustus Morgan.
As a vice director of the entire European Recovery Plan, Augustus was a key figure.
It wasn't until the end of the banquet that Augustus slipped out "to the bathroom" and met Leo on a secluded balcony.
Augustus's date — far more experienced than Audrey — stood at the entrance, making sure no one disturbed them.
"How's your 'Heart of Hong Kong' going? Have you looked into the pre-sale model?" Leo asked.
At the mention of "pre-sale," Augustus's eyes lit up. He spoke quickly:
"Hong Kong itself is a mess, but that Eastern guy Ho is a genius. The pre-sale model turned slow-churning real estate into highly liquid gold. It binds real estate to banking and finance. Your idea of 'financial real estate' is now real.
"Most importantly, this model fits America perfectly! Building one house at a time is too slow. American consumers, banks eager for loan repayments, and investors all want speed.
"Pre-sales solve everything. It will unleash the full vitality of American real estate!"
"I already spoke with my company the moment I landed. You can call your secretary and send him to New York. Proceed with the contract we drafted. The company name: JP·L Financial Real Estate Inc.
"Congratulations, Mr. Leo Valentino — welcome to the Morgan family."