The party was over.
Leo and Thomas sat on the hotel's Greek-style balcony, each with a glass of red wine to help them sleep. They began reviewing the day's gains.
"I still can't figure out how you managed to make me the head of the Senate's Pre-sale Approval Committee," Thomas said.
"You're asking the wrong question. Shouldn't you be wondering if Evelyn will mind how lustful I am?" Leo replied.
"Ha! That trick of yours is so worn out. You think anyone still believes it?" Thomas chuckled. Before approaching Leo, Thomas had thoroughly researched the critical business battles Leo had fought. He knew Leo had frequently used affairs to mislead his enemies.
"As long as they believe it, that's all that matters." Leo pointed down at Winston, who was sternly speaking to Evelyn below. "Harry must've said something about me at the airport. Evelyn doesn't care, but Winston does. And knowing how sharp Harry is, he'll remember it well. All we need to do is make him truly believe it."
"Even though I hate to admit it, Winston is too green. He's already accepted you, and expecting him to fool someone as shrewd as Harry with his acting? Unrealistic," Thomas said.
"Who said anything about acting? Winston's acceptance of me is already fragile. We just need to shatter it. Don't thank me—this experience will help him grow."
—
The next morning, both Yelena and Marilyn Monroe were brought to the hotel. Winston's furious shouts echoed through the halls.
Back in Richmond, Virginia…
"How many times has Jesse gotten into trouble now?" Oswald asked Harry.
"I've lost count. But what's certain is, this is the third time Leo made a move after agreeing to help Thomas. Jesse's safe," Harry said.
"Leo's too cunning. We can't let our guard down. Jesse needs to stay cautious," Oswald replied as they headed toward the hospital room.
As they neared, they heard a heated argument inside.
"I don't agree! This plan is full of holes—it's immature! That bastard is great at exploiting weaknesses. We can't give him another chance!" Jesse roared from inside.
Oswald frowned, pushed the door open, and said to the injured Jesse, "Jesse, have you been scared stiff by that bastard? Can't even fight back now? You're supposed to be a tough guy. Do you know what people are calling you? 'The Hospital Mayor.' They say you spend more time in the hospital than at City Hall. Give me the plan."
He snatched the document—titled Proposal to Restrict the Pre-sale Real Estate Model—from Jesse's secretary and skimmed through it. His frown deepened.
"Good idea, but it does have a lot of holes," he admitted, handing the document to Harry.
After reviewing it, Harry said thoughtfully, "He's right. Launching this kind of legislation too quickly would only give Leo an opportunity to rally every real estate developer around him. If that happens, we'll be completely on the back foot."
Clutching his bandaged abdomen, Jesse added, "Exactly. When dealing with that guy, sometimes inaction is better. He's human—he'll slip up. When he does, we strike hard and finish it."
Both Oswald and Harry agreed. But the Cotton family was desperate for a victory to prove they were capable of carving up the Far East.
Understanding Oswald's urgency, Harry said, "We don't need to be so direct. Let's leverage the national influence of Iron Gate Realty. They can form a Pre-sale Real Estate Alliance. Through this alliance, we can set 'eligibility criteria' for pre-sale participation. Within a year, Leo will be pushed out of the very model he pioneered."
The idea inspired Oswald, and he laid out a clearer three-step plan:
"Step one: Contact Austin and form the Pre-sale Real Estate Alliance. Also reach out to small real estate firms to create more associations. The more fragmented things get, the harder it is for Leo to pull them all in.
Step two: Have the alliance draft a legislative proposal with support from the small companies.
Step three: Get an influential senator to sponsor it."
Jesse, lying in bed, pretended to agree, but his spine tingled. Leo had predicted everything, except the part about the alliance. Jesse looked at the two men across from him with pity—he had completely given up on going against Leo.
The Cotton family's massive machine began to move.
Real estate alliances and associations sprang up across the country. Newspaper headlines questioned the integrity of the pre-sale model—concerns over quality, misleading advertisements, and contractual traps. Leo's counter-media campaigns struggled against the rising tide. Even in Richmond, the East District construction site had gang members catching a dozen private investigators each day, all desperate to find flaws in Leo's system.
But they found nothing.
—
In the Cotton family's New York manor, Oswald slammed the phone down in rage.
"Useless! All of them are useless! He's new to this pre-sale system—how can they find nothing?"
He sighed and turned to his father, Harold, who was calmly puffing a cigar.
Harold said, "Rules and ethics are for the weak. We don't need to follow them. Pre-sale wasn't invented by Americans—it's a Chinese thing, isn't it? Send people to Hong Kong. Whatever problems we find there, pin them on Leo's projects. No one can get into his sites anyway. Say it enough, and it becomes true."
Oswald's eyes lit up. "Father, you always have the best ideas."
"But we still need someone to chair the legislative committee once the proposal goes through," Oswald added. "I asked James, and while he agreed to help push it, he's too focused on Eisenhower."
"Hmph. He's a coward compared to his father. The old man helped birth the military-industrial complex. His son? Just a lapdog to a lapdog. No guts. One loss and he's scared to try again," Harold scoffed.
Then his eyes twinkled. "What about that little story Harry shared the other day—about Thomas's son and grandson-in-law fighting?"
"You mean Evelyn's fiancé and her father?" Oswald asked.
"Fiancé? Let's not be so hasty. When I was golfing with old Hutchinson, he mentioned that Thomas's son, Winston, is looking for a suitable son-in-law. His youngest grandson, Edwin Hutchinson, has been very proactive. Thomas is still someone we can bring over.
Have Harry reach out. If it works, make him chair of the Pre-sale Legislation Committee. With Thomas's support, Harry can crush that brat in the state. Then marry off Morton's family to the Hutchinsons.
No power, no wife—he'll be worthless to Truman. And then it'll be time for him to die."
In the following days, negative headlines about the pre-sale model flooded major newspapers across the country. Allegations included shoddy construction and bait-and-switch tactics. Of course, Leo responded with media counterattacks—but against the united front of real estate moguls hungry for a slice of the pie, his voice was faint and almost drowned out.
At the same time, Thomas—fresh back from Africa—frequently graced the front pages of Virginia's newspapers. One day, he was seen co-sponsoring legislation with Harry; the next, photographed hunting with the Hutchinson mining dynasty. Rumors even spread that the Morton and Hutchinson families were arranging a marriage alliance, complete with a picture of Evelyn chatting and laughing with Edwin Hutchinson.
While sharing breakfast, Noodles slammed the newspaper onto the table and growled, "You really don't have any special tastes? Evelyn's practically being stolen right in front of you and you're just sitting there calm as ever."
Leo glanced at the photo and said coolly, "After dinner that night, Evelyn got into my car. We kissed—French style. Edwin's face went darker than coal. And the best part? I booked a hotel room right across from the restaurant. You know what that means."
"Hahaha! Now that sounds like the Leo I know—the wicked one. But aren't you worried about the Morton-Hutchinson marriage? These big families don't care about whether the kids actually like each other," Noodles asked, half serious.
"That depends on Thomas," Leo said. "You know, when the president left the hotel, he left me a little gift. I gave it to Evelyn—to protect herself."
—
Morton Manor, Fan District.
A storm was brewing in the luxurious study.
"Evelyn, you're a lady of a prestigious family, not some street floozy! You're not even married to that Leo guy—how can you be seen entering a hotel with him? You've disgraced our family!" Winston raged.
"All my efforts over the past two weeks, wasted! Edwin is a fine young man, and you humiliated him!"
Evelyn stared at him coldly, no emotion in her eyes. She turned to her grandfather, who remained silent, head bowed. Disappointed, she shook her head and headed for the door.
Her movement enraged Winston even more. Since returning from abroad, he'd never been shown any respect—not even by his own daughter. Today, he was determined to restore the family's discipline.
Just as he reached out to grab her, Thomas raised a hand and said, "Don't!"
But it was too late.
In one smooth motion, Evelyn caught his hand and flipped him over her shoulder. He landed hard on the carpeted floor, groaning in pain.
"Giving birth to me, raising me—that's what makes you a father," Evelyn said coldly. "Or at least, stand beside me, support me, and love me—and I'll acknowledge you as one. But all you've done is lecture me, using me as your stepping stone. Winston, you're pathetic."
She turned to leave, then paused at the door.
"That Edwin you adore? He raped a maid at thirteen, killed a servant during a hunting trip at fifteen, and wiped out an entire family in a street race at eighteen. The case was real. His family sent him to the UK to lie low. That's the guy you chose."
As she reached for the door again, Thomas finally spoke. "Wait, Evelyn."
She stopped out of respect and turned to him.
"Does it have to be Leo? Hutchinson doesn't work out, what about Jefferson?" he asked.
The last glimmer of hope faded from Evelyn's eyes.
"You two men would rather trade me for political gain than risk anything yourselves. Cowards!" she said.
"Evelyn, watch your tone!" Thomas snapped.
Her disappointment turned to calm resolve. She dragged her father out of the study and came back in alone.
"Grandfather, my man knew you'd hesitate. That's why he told me to give you this message: Don't bother investigating. That useless man you sent to Africa? His disappearance and ordeal were orchestrated by certain people.
Want to know who? The Holt family of former governor Clinton, the current governor Biles' family, and behind them—the Cotton family.
Oh, and the Hutchinsons and Jeffersons you're trying to marry me off to? They're in on it too. The run-down mine where we rescued him? The Hutchinsons own shares."
Thomas's eyes widened in horror. "Leo knows this? He's just scared we'll stop supporting him."
Evelyn pulled a photo from her pocket and placed it on his desk. "You always wondered how I survived among lions in Africa? Here's your answer."
The photo showed little Evelyn being gently placed into a tamed lion pride.
"Where did you get this?!" Thomas gasped.
"From FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover," she replied.
Thomas slumped into his chair. He understood now—he couldn't switch sides. With that kind of secret hanging over him, they'd kill him eventually.
He recalled Leo's strategy. Listening to Winston's angry breathing outside the door, he decided to play along with Leo's trap.
Opening the door, he looked at Winston and said, "You better make another kid while that thing still works. Pretend you never had a daughter."
—
That night, Winston, introduced by Harry, entered the Cotton family estate. Before long, he was seen with one of the divorced daughters of the Cotton family.
Everyone with influence in Virginia knew—Morton had seemingly joined the Cottons.
But after so many painful losses, not just in Virginia but across the East Coast, everyone—except greedy real estate developers—chose to sit on the sidelines.
Even the Hutchinsons, despite Leo humiliating their heir, stayed quiet.
—
Around the same time, a minor event also occurred: Mayor Desmond of Lynchburg resigned and replaced Daniel as head of Valentino's pre-sale program—his entry into the revolving door of politics.
Soon, Virginia passed the real estate pre-sale legislation. With the help of a senator, it was submitted to both chambers of Congress.
A new round of battles was about to begin. Lobbyists and power brokers began flooding into Washington, ready for the final showdown.