"This won't do, that won't do, might as well just surrender!"
James said angrily.
Then he noticed the two men across the table exchanging looks of silent agreement.
"Damn! You guys are really going to bow to that country bumpkin!"
Walter Reston of Citibank said,
"Bowing to Franklin isn't shameful. Mr. Samuel said we must at least break even on this investment. Besides, the real estate boom is a fast-moving train — Citibank might not ride first class, but we have to have a seat."
With Walter starting the ball rolling, Gavin added,
"Tishman Speyer is one of the Chicago consortium's key assets. The consortium members can't accept that company lying low for two years!"
Money!
At that moment, James suddenly understood the reason behind his father's many sleepless nights.
Although the most rational choice was to crush Leo completely, an alliance driven by interests naturally faced pressure and challenges from those interests.
James sighed and said,
"Fine, the pressure here is heavy too. But let me be clear — this concession will make it impossible for him to be controlled."
Seeing the two men not responding, James gave up and said,
"Alright, I have some companies here as well."
The three then laid out their demands. Looking at the seven or eight names on the list, Gavin muttered,
"Will he agree to this?"
"There's always a way," Walter said to Gavin.
Gavin looked up, about to ask what way, but saw the intense looks from Walter and James directed at him. The message was clear: they wanted him to negotiate.
Young people these days had no sense of protocol — here he was, old enough to be their father, being made to carry their burdens.
"Fine, I'll go," he said, with a thousand complaints in his heart, but knowing he had the least power.
In the history of the real estate association, this meeting atop the Blue Ridge Mountains in Lynchburg, Virginia, came to be known as the Summit Meeting. It marked the formal entry of American real estate as a unique political force in the country's power arena.
During this period, Leo spent most of his time in Washington.
One reason was to participate in establishing the lobbying company; another was to attend various receptions, announcing his presence to different factions.
On the night of August 15, Victory Day, the capital's hotels were packed with receptions held under the guise of celebrations and networking.
At the Jefferson Hotel in Washington, a reception hosted by Secretary of State Marshall was in full swing.
Marshall had been in office less than a year but had already thoroughly cleaned up the chaos within the State Department.
His tough diplomatic style perfectly matched that of the President.
To have the full trust of two consecutive presidents in different aspects, Marshall was unquestionably a top-tier figure.
America was controlled by capital, but capital had many representatives; only one Secretary of State controlled the distribution scheme. Given Marshall's foundation, he was not easily replaced by ordinary means.
Thus, his influence was immense.
His reception was naturally high-end.
Leo saw several business rivals who had publicly sworn to never associate with each other, breaking their vows just to attend this reception.
As one of the young men Marshall admired, Leo was by his side.
"Lucky bastard," whispered Edwin Hutchinson.
By his side today was not his close friend Bertram, but his grandfather, Aiden Hutchinson.
As the family's pillar, Aiden sternly warned Edwin,
"If you let anyone see your foolishness, I guarantee you'll never receive a dime of family resources in your life."
Leo reminded him of his grandfather — beneath the humble smile were cunning methods and insatiable ambition.
"If you can't be his friend, then at least don't let him become the family's enemy."
Aiden's words left Edwin's mouth wide open for a long time.
He stared incredulously at Leo — how could a country bumpkin like this deserve such high praise?
Their great-grandfather was the first generation of the Hutchinson family, who had led the family to become part of America's ruling class.
How could Leo compare?
Though he felt a hundred times unwilling, his grandfather's words had decided his future. He might be the eldest grandson, but he was far from the only grandson.
"Mr. Valentino."
Aiden Hutchinson stepped forward and smiled in greeting.
As a peer, Marshall was vaguely aware of the tension between the two sides. He understood Aiden's initiative perfectly.
Since the conflict didn't involve interests, and this task was both easy to resolve and yielded favors from both sides, Marshall was happy to handle it.
He smiled and introduced Aiden to Leo.
Seeing Marshall's expression, Leo understood perfectly what it meant — he had to tread carefully. The other side was apologizing, but Leo would also owe Marshall a favor. Lucky?
A spark flashed in Leo's mind as he coldly said,
"Oh, Mr. Hutchinson, your inexplicable hostility towards me has been bothering me."
Leo's reaction stunned the other two.
Marshall's face darkened — Leo was openly disrespecting him. But the next words from Leo made him laugh.
"Mr. Hutchinson, there will be a charity auction for wounded WWII veterans shortly. How about this — let's see who buys more items.
If you win, I'll forgive you. If not, it shows a lack of sincerity, and our relationship remains unchanged."
Marshall's reception naturally featured items he provided for auction. The proceeds went into his foundation, and how much ultimately reached the veterans was unknown.
Leo's move was effectively giving money to Marshall — Aiden paid, but the favor was owed by Leo.
"Hahaha! Old Aiden, my young friend here is quite the sly one.
So, what do you say? Dare to bet?"
Aiden looked at Leo deeply, secretly lamenting.
At a similar age, his eldest grandson could only clean up his messes, while this kid was already skillfully selling favors with other people's things — and the key person being used couldn't refuse.
"Alright!"
After that, the three smoothly changed the topic and chatted about various things.
As Secretary of State, Marshall's conversations naturally touched on international issues.
Although Leo had some knowledge from his past life, he chose not to flaunt it with long speeches. In a world that had completely changed, such boasting would cost him many advantages.
Even brief mentions of his opinions caused the two to look at him with new respect.
"Leo, have you ever considered leaving business for politics? I think you're suited for it."
Marshall's words left Leo slightly dazed.
He recalled how the small-town mayor Patrick had said that first, then Thomas, and now the Secretary of State.
Two years had passed in the blink of an eye, and he had entered the core of American politics.
Leo decisively refused Marshall's offer.
In his previous life, watching House of Cards, he knew the fleeting joys of being President Underwood.
Unfortunately, an unknown force was about to descend.
Marshall understood Leo's choice. For ambitious young men like Leo, political families were often the last refuge.
Soon, the auction began, featuring a wide range of items from French royal antiques to a soldier's pistol.
Leo was unyielding despite the earlier friendly banter.
The Hutchinson family spent $500,000 on the reconciliation.
Whether Aiden was satisfied, Leo didn't care, but Marshall, frequently toasting him, was clearly pleased.
When the reception ended, Thomas approached and said,
"Someone wants to see you."
Out of respect for Thomas, Leo sent Evelyn off in a car and then followed Thomas to a suite upstairs.
In the suite's reception room, Leo looked up at the standing Gavin and mocked,
"Mr. Stanley, where's your golden lion cane? Now, this simple cane seems more fitting for your current fortune."
Furious inside, Gavin vowed that the first thing he would do back home was throw the cane into the closet and burn it.
"Mr. Valentino, I come with peaceful intentions. As a gentleman, please grant me basic respect." Gavin said.
"Gentleman?
I thought you realized I'm no gentleman when I carried you out that day.
Peace?
How laughable!"
Leo's face hardened, and he turned to leave abruptly.
No honor among the young! No rules!
Leo left, and Gavin was truly done for.
This nearly seventy-year-old consortium leader, surprisingly agile for his age, took a quick step forward and grabbed Leo's arm.
"Name your price! Let's talk!"
He glanced pleadingly at Thomas.
"Leo!" Thomas called.
What right did a loser have to talk peace? Mission accomplished, Leo turned and sat down again.
Still stern, he stared at Gavin without a word.
"We can let go of the New York Herald Tribune," Gavin said.
Though guided by old friend James, when the acquisition happened, the Tribune's former Jewish owner fought back with lengthy lawsuits alongside former editors.
The goal was to block Leo's acquisition — a mix of personal vendetta and public resentment.
Because Leo was now reaching into the media sector being targeted by Jewish capital.
But now, for the sake of huge real estate profits, Jewish capital rooted in banking chose to yield!
Gavin looked at Leo, who remained unmoved, and sighed,
"Tishman Speyer will give up business in New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, and West Virginia."
"No sincerity!"
Leo said coldly.
The old miser named off several states — apart from New Jersey, the rest combined were smaller than Virginia.
"Also Kentucky, Ohio, and Indiana."
Gavin bit his lip and said.
"Peace doesn't include normal business competition.
Virginia Valentino Realty is set on New York and Pennsylvania."
Forced by circumstances, Gavin nodded helplessly.
Feeling an agreement had been reached, Gavin handed over the written notes.
Leo glanced at them, then at Augustus, picked up a pen, and crossed out all the banks listed.
"What are you doing?" Gavin said, displeased.
"You asked for peace and the terms satisfy me, so I agreed.
But Citibank? I didn't."
Gavin couldn't control Citibank's position.
Since he couldn't satisfy Leo, he let Leo negotiate directly with Walter.
Realizing this, Gavin called Walter with some satisfaction.
After a brief explanation, the phone was soon handed to Leo.
"Name your price. What price will erase your red line?" Walter said.
"Why do you want to acquire my bank?" Leo asked.
Walter was a bit stunned but quickly realized which bank Leo meant.
Angrily, Walter said,
"Don't flatter yourself. The Virginia bank agreed to our acquisition. We're just buying our own bank!"
Leo's mood was steady as he said calmly,
"Then why are you buying my bank at your own place?"
"You… you!"
Walter thought Leo was crazy at first and was about to curse, but then he realized Leo meant the Virginia bank.
Taking a deep breath, Walter's mind raced.
He knew Leo never dealt with banking and lacked the funds to acquire a bank himself.
So Leo wasn't acting for himself, but for Augustus.
Understanding this, Walter knew that even if he didn't give up, Morgan Bank would move in.
Compared to Morgan Bank, which controlled half of Virginia's onshore business, Citibank, focused more on overseas operations, wasn't necessarily a match.
Instead of a lengthy funding tug-of-war with Morgan that might yield little, it was better to use this "chicken rib" to gain opportunities for other banks to obtain pre-sale licenses.
Realizing this, Walter said,
"Tomorrow, I'll send all preliminary acquisition documents to Washington."
He was about to hang up when he heard Leo's voice:
"Wait. The small banks on the list — if I'm not mistaken — are all located between 22nd and 46th Streets in Manhattan.
You know whose properties those streets are.
I know too.
Tell him, if he wants a seat at the table, I want Harry!"
"You're crazy! That's the governor!" Walter said.
"Lincoln or the President!" Leo said coldly.
"Wait, he's right here."
In less than the time of a smoke, James's voice came through:
"Fine, I agree.
But without Harry, you can't control Virginia either.
The water in Florida isn't shallower than New York's."
"Don't worry, the deeper the water, the better I swim."
Leo's insistence on getting rid of Harry was not about money.
His core goal was to warn Virginia's old money:
Valentino — not yielding an inch and retaliating viciously!
As for offending these old money families — Leo's wealth in Virginia was already a sin in their eyes, who regarded the state as their private domain.
While Leo was wildly harvesting benefits through fabricated deals,
At the Morgan family estate in Syosset, Long Island, many family members gathered to celebrate Victory Day.
Due to the large family, the younger generation sat together.
One young man said,
"Jarvis, I heard you're working for a country bumpkin now?"
"He's a billionaire." Jarvis replied.
"A billionaire? As members of the Morgan family, who here can't easily mobilize a hundred million?
Oh wait, I forgot, you can't, since you're the only one without a company under your control.
Not only that, you're just watching that guy gnaw away at the Morgan family fortune like a rat.
That pre-sale project should have been ours — the money and power should have been yours to trade.
Instead, he's making a fortune and networking in Washington, and you're treated like trash here!"
Junior Morgan, sitting above Jarvis, said harshly.
With each word, Jarvis's eyes reddened.
After Junior finished, Jarvis suddenly stood up and headed to the inner dining room reserved for core family members.