"Mike, Hyman Ross. They've arrived."
The family's former strategist, Tom Hagen, walked in and said.
Mike's face grew serious. Although Hyman Ross was once a subordinate of the Corleone family, due to his unique Jewish identity, he quickly became an independent force and ultimately led the largest Jewish mafia in America.
Facing this self-made boss, Mike felt the pressure.
The honored guest was not to be formally greeted. When Leo left the study, he crossed paths with Hyman Ross in the hallway.
To ordinary people, Ross was undoubtedly a big shot. But big shots differ among themselves.
Ross was nowhere near as skilled at controlling his expression as Thomas. He tried hard to act like a stranger, but the flicker in his eyes revealed his true feelings.
Leo instantly analyzed that Ross recognized him and had kept his attention fixed on him.
Was it because of the Gurian family? Leo thought of the first Jewish family he had wiped out.
Or was it a pack of unseen wolves lurking in the dark?
The banquet was ongoing, and Leo was the undisputed center of attention. He was currently talking with several Italian real estate businessmen.
Though all in the real estate business, their companies were nowhere near the same scale. These businessmen each expressed that whatever demands Leo made, they would do their best to meet.
From their attitudes, Leo sincerely felt their respect for him—the new Italian leader.
From their words, Leo learned about the current state of New York real estate.
"Leo!"
Mike's voice rang out. Leo saw Mike approach with a good-natured, chubby man.
At the same time, Leo felt a faint gaze passing through the gap between them and saw Ross tipping his hat to him at the mansion's gate before getting into a car and leaving.
"Leo, this is Krimansha, the family's legion commander.
All future family affairs in the East will be fully under Krimansha's control. He will be the new godfather of New York."
Facing the corpulent Krimansha from his previous life, Leo showed a friendly smile and reached out his hand:
"Hello, Krimansha."
Surprised by Leo's friendliness, Krimansha clasped Leo's hand with both hands, bowed slightly in respect, and said:
"Hello, Mr. Valentino. In the future, if you need anything in New York, please don't hesitate to instruct me."
Leo understood Mike's intention: this was a formal way of introducing Krimansha as an ally.
"I am close friends with Mike, and Mr. Victor once saved my life, so we're family now. I won't be polite."
Mike had wrestled with the decision to bring Krimansha to meet Leo for quite some time.
He knew that once they met, it was tantamount to handing over Krimansha and the entire Eastern power bloc to Leo.
Mike controlled these people through money, but how could he possibly compete with Leo, whose cash flow was now comparable to a money-printing machine?
Eventually, he decided to just let it happen. In Sicily, he tied the whole family's fate to Leo.
Leo's words deeply moved Mike. His tone both inside and outside the words reminded Krimansha to keep priorities straight—he accepted Krimansha only because of the Corleone family.
"By the way, there is indeed something I need you to do now.
In late August 1945, I was discharged and came to New York, where I was nearly assassinated on the street."
Leo briefly introduced the time and place but said nothing about how or to what extent it should be done. He treated this as a test for Krimansha.
Krimansha, a man rough but with attention to detail, instantly understood Leo's meaning and seriously replied:
"Please rest assured, Mr. Valentino, I will give you a satisfactory answer as soon as possible."
The banquet ended. It was still at the Waldorf Hotel, still the same room.
After showering, Leo looked at Grace, dressed in a nun's habit with a shy expression, and nodded in approval.
That night, Father Leo harshly punished the nun who tried to rebel.
The hotel window was once again covered with handprints from the nun.
June came, and the weather in Richmond, Virginia, grew increasingly hot.
In the meeting room of the Virginia Real Estate Association headquarters, the real estate businessmen were as restless as the weather.
Previously, some had held onto their land, some had bought land at a premium, and many had agreed to collectively raise housing prices and make big profits.
Unexpectedly, Leo introduced a pre-sale model with prime locations and low prices, causing many who had already signed contracts to choose to breach them.
Because buying a Valentino property, even after paying breach penalties, was still cheaper than building their own houses.
They were badly stung!
"He's a liar, a scum! He doesn't deserve to be our president."
Lev Cruz, the owner of Cruz Real Estate in Virginia Beach, said.
Bruce Real Estate was the strongest company in the association after Valentino's.
His company alone had bought one-third of Leo's orders and suffered the heaviest losses. Worse still, Bruce's was a publicly listed company whose stock had plummeted, and shareholder complaints had been nonstop.
If it weren't for former Governor Clint's backing, Bruce might have already been ousted as CEO.
Once someone started, the meeting room erupted like boiling water.
Small and big businessmen cursed loudly, wishing they could tear Leo to pieces.
Bang!
Suddenly, a loud slap on the table interrupted the chaos. Martin Anderson, a loyal supporter of Leo within the association, stood resolutely.
He strode to the microphone and said fiercely:
"Shut up!
Who are you to criticize our president here?
This is America. You're all businessmen. Doing business means you must be ready to take responsibility for profits and losses.
Did the president force you to buy the land?
No, right?
And now you want to impeach him?
Yes, I'm talking to you, Mr. Cruz. If I'm not mistaken, the Iron Lion real estate project in Virginia Beach was developed with you.
And the ones shouting the loudest were all partners when Iron Lion entered Virginia.
Sorry to be blunt, but you're just a bunch of sellouts!"
"Well said! If those selfish people succeed, we have no future..."
"That's right! They want to remove the president.
I still remember how they begged to rejoin at first.
Like my dog—whoever feeds him, he follows!"
After Martin spoke, old members who had gone through the Bubble Crisis, the Lamb Crisis, and now the Iron Lion Crisis stood up one by one.
Though few in number, having reaped all three waves of dividends, their words carried weight.
The momentum of attacking Leo stalled.
Lev Cruz saw things veering off his plan and immediately argued:
"This is purely business! We can't use morality to restrain it!"
No sooner had he spoken than the meeting room door opened.
Leo entered expressionlessly and said:
"Yes, Mr. Cruz, as you said, everything I've done is business."
Though they cursed behind his back, in front of Leo they immediately grew timid.
Leo's strength was all-around, far beyond these businessmen still dependent on their fathers.
"Mr. Leo, the association's purpose is to lead all members to wealth. The president must set an example.
No matter what you say, you have harmed everyone's interests. That's certain.
So, this president! You absolutely have no right to continue!"
Lev Bruce was truly clever, running his company into Virginia's second-largest real estate firm.
Leo had already reached the microphone, and Martin quickly stepped aside.
Having seen many of Leo's brilliant debates, Martin expected Leo to crush Bruce with sharp words.
But Leo was past arguing; he said to the microphone:
"Fine, then let's vote. One person, one vote. Raise your hands now!"
Bruce looked delighted.
Martin's face turned pale. One person, one vote? They were obviously at a disadvantage.
He anxiously looked at Leo and said:
"Mr. Valentino—"
Halfway through, Leo's gaze stopped him. Knowing Leo had never lost, Martin reluctantly sat down.
Though intimidated by Leo alone, once in a crowd, courage grew. Three-quarters of the attendees raised their hands.
Bruce smugly said to Leo:
"'Former' president, count the votes!"
Leo smiled slightly and confidently said:
"Wait, our association only accepts companies as members. Some people here are no longer company heads, so their votes are invalid!"
"What a joke! Who here isn't a company legal representative?"
Bruce said.
"Has Grieco from Hogue Construction arrived?"
Leo asked.
Upon hearing this, a fat man stood up and said:
"Here."
"Good. I'm informing you now, you are no longer the legal representative of Hogue Construction."
Before Grieco could speak, Bruce hurriedly said:
"Mr. President, are you out of your mind? What right do you have to dismiss their legal representative?"
Leo waved some documents handed by MianTiao and calmly announced:
"As chairman of Hogue, I hold 75% of the shares; he only holds 15%."
Leo's words caused the fat man, already feeling the room's heat, to faint from the bad news.
Chaos erupted. After order was restored, Bruce still grumbled:
"One company can't change the result."
"How do you know I only have one?"
Leo smiled, handed back the Hogue documents, picked up a new file, and read aloud:
"Lusen Real Estate."
The result was the same, but no one fainted this time.
As Leo named each company, the raised hands gradually dropped.
Soon, less than half remained raised.
Leo put down the list. A sigh of relief filled the room.
However, Leo's offensive wasn't over. He stood and addressed the 15 company heads still raising their hands:
"I know your companies have suffered losses because of me. As president, I admit my dereliction of duty.
Therefore, I offer you all a chance to sell your companies to me.
Though the price will be lower than expected, at least you can avoid losses, shareholder blame, and gain some funds.
Why not?
Of course, you can choose not to sell. But believe me, except for my loyal friends, I won't allow any other mid-to-large real estate companies in Virginia.
You've seen I've acquired many companies. My funds are limited, so I can only offer ten spots.
First come, first served!
Wow, Carl from Siegel Real Estate, that's the fastest I've ever seen you run. Tucson, get his paperwork ready!"
As Leo finished, shrewd men rushed forward. Almost simultaneously, five companies had signed letters of intent.
Only five spots remained. The remaining ten exchanged looks, like the starter pistol in a 100-meter dash had fired—they immediately sprinted.
But starting together meant those initially leading got pushed back, people were knocked down, and the gentlemen turned the race into a farce.
Bruce, who had opposed Leo most fiercely, was also among them. Using his youthful physique, he broke through and gasped as he reached Daniel, ready to sign.
At that moment, Leo's voice rang out:
"Sorry, Mr. Bruce, Bruce Real Estate is not for sale."
"When? Why?"
Bruce instinctively asked.
"Nicely put, it's because your company runs successfully and is too big for my funds to buy.
Less nicely, I just don't want to buy it!
When did I decide? Just now!"
Leo finished, and Martin laughed heartily beside him.
As expected, Mr. Valentino still hated losing. Compared to past word battles, now he crushed opponents with power!
While Bruce was stunned, the remaining five spots were quickly taken.
The four companies left unsigned, fearing bankruptcy, had tears in their eyes.
They rushed forward and beat Bruce, cursing:
"Damn you! I was running fastest; why did you pull me back!"
"Damn it! If you hadn't led, we wouldn't be in this mess!"
"Enough talk! Kill him!"
After enjoying Bruce's screams, Leo ordered security to drag out the attackers, then walked over to Bruce and said:
"Don't think I don't know you're Clint's man. When you get back to Virginia Beach, tell him this: I haven't forgotten what he did to me!
I'm a man who never forgets a grudge!"
A week later, under Leo's fully prepared, all-around assault, Bruce's company finally buckled, its funds near exhaustion.
Desperate, Bruce called his biggest backer.
In a study of the largest villa in Virginia Beach's coastal estate district, Clint slammed the phone he bought yesterday against the wall.
Beneath the dented wall were several predecessors who had met the same fate as the shattered phone.
Clint sat slumped, covering his face in despair.
The secret phonebook on the desk had been flipped to the last page. Only one unchecked name remained.
The desk was littered with newspapers exposing the Clint family's scandals and his political downfall.
The most devastating was the re-exposure of the suppressed affair between him and his daughter-in-law.
This destroyed the Clint family's years of political reputation—Leo had uprooted the very foundation of their power.
It was over, completely over.
Even if he tried everything, no one was willing to help. Clint realized that because of his scandal, those concerned about reputation wouldn't offer aid.
He once mocked the decline and disappearance of old families dating back to colonial times, blaming poor management and unfilial descendants.
Now he could only say fate was unpredictable.
No matter what, he couldn't understand why he, a governor, repeatedly lost to a young man from a small town.
And lost worse each time, until now, his last dime was destroyed by that man.
Across Virginia Beach, enemies he had suppressed and bullied stepped forward, throwing dirt on his crumbling mansion.
Though he still held powerful leverage, he wasn't sure if it would bring help or a bullet in the back.
He had a son and grandson and couldn't risk everything recklessly. He had to leave something for his family.
"Ah!"
While he was pondering, a sharp wail came from downstairs—Clint recognized his eldest son's voice.
He rushed down to find his son convulsing on the floor.