Columbus, the city named after the discoverer of the Americas, was the heart of Ohio.
A seven-story building from the early 20th century served as the Ohio headquarters of American Real Estate.
In the massive conference room on the top floor, all shareholders of American Real Estate Group were present.
Leo addressed the assembly:
"The roadshow is imminent. If we can't even take Ohio, the market will lose confidence in us.
Winning will send our stock soaring; losing will mean the immediate dissolution of American Real Estate, and everyone's recent investments will go up in smoke.
So, when facing the stubborn Destan Real Estate, don't hold back on ideas or connections.
Use everything you've got against them.
Friends, this is a war!"
Over the following days, shareholders of American Real Estate continuously moved between Wall Street, Washington D.C., and other key locations.
One good piece of news after another reached Leo, stationed in Columbus.
A massive net had already been cast over Destan Real Estate.
Leo gazed at the endlessly flowing crowd outside the window—time to tighten the last knot of the net.
In a luxurious Italian restaurant, Leo set down his knife and fork with satisfaction.
"The Italian food here is authentic, and it tastes excellent."
Opposite him sat Enzo Lombardi, the fierce-looking head of Ohio's Italian mafia, who maintained a humble posture and offered Leo a handkerchief with a flattering smile.
Although Enzo also controlled a vast territory, the mafia is still the mafia. Desperate to legitimize his family, Enzo had barely slept the night after receiving a call from Mike, the Las Vegas mafia leader.
He knew that the opportunity he had been seeking had finally arrived.
The surname Valentino was now universally known among Italian-Americans.
In the past, if you asked an Italian boy what he wanted to be when he grew up, he would say a mafia gangster.
Now, nine out of ten children would say they wanted to be Mr. Valentino.
At only 25 years old, Leo was a billionaire, a close friend of the U.S. president, chairman of the largest real estate company in the eastern United States, and president of the American Real Estate Association—a series of titles that had become a source of pride for the Italian-American community.
"Mr. Valentino, it is my greatest honor that you enjoy our food. My chef specializes in Sicilian cuisine. I hear you are temporarily staying in Columbus—perhaps he could cook at your residence?"
Leo remained noncommittal. Since his guest understood etiquette, why not let him enjoy his culinary desires?
After a satisfying meal, business began.
Leo looked around at the people present. Enzo was clever; he immediately instructed his nearby subordinates and servers:
"Everyone, leave."
"Boss, your safety…"
A foolish subordinate expressed his loyalty at the wrong time, in the wrong place.
Enzo impatiently said, "Get out! Even if Mr. Valentino wanted to kill me, you lot couldn't protect me."
Once everyone had left, Leo smiled:
"Seems you've done some research on me, Mr. Enzo."
Enzo hurriedly shook his head:
"Mr. Valentino, how dare I? You are a hero to Italian-Americans. Your stories, in various versions, have long circulated among the community."
Enzo's words were well chosen. Not only did he deny any investigation on Leo, but he also aligned himself as a fellow Italian-American who revered Leo.
The subtext: If a hero needs something, you obey.
Leo nodded in satisfaction:
"American Real Estate is bringing a new revolution in real estate to Ohio.
This will benefit all residents wishing to relocate.
However, some stubborn forces, shortsighted and misleading the public, resist the tide of the times.
Coincidentally, I know their housing quality is poor.
As a conscientious American citizen, I feel it is our duty to expose them."
Having lived most of his life in Ohio, Enzo immediately understood that Leo was speaking of Destan Real Estate.
He himself lived in a high-end suburban community developed by Destan.
Truth be told, Destan's quality was impeccable.
As a company founded in Ohio, they had always honored their promise not to exploit Ohioans.
Enzo looked at Leo and thought:
But what does Destan's quality have to do with me?
The man before him—Mr. Valentino—decides his future.
If Valentino says the quality is poor, then for Enzo, it must be true.
Enzo knew Leo wanted him to take action but lacked the crucial details: time and place.
"Really? Mr. Valentino, having lived in Ohio for over 30 years, I do feel obliged to expose such an unethical company.
Please tell me which project has the worst quality, and I will expose it tomorrow."
Truly, this man, capable of uniting Ohio's underworld, was a genius.
His skills in deploying and coordinating were extraordinary.
"I heard from others—the latest Lincoln Community villas by Destan have serious quality issues, with potential collapse risks.
However, exposing this requires careful preparation. My friends in the press plan to act when the Lincoln villas open for sale the day after tomorrow.
By then, with media coverage, public outrage will ensure this morally corrupt company becomes infamous throughout Ohio."
As Enzo watched Leo's car depart, he considered the implications.
The location: Destan's newly developed Lincoln Community villas. Within two days, Enzo had to make these villas appear on the brink of collapse.
The exact timing? As Leo said: whenever the reporters arrived.
And when the house collapses, it must spark public outrage.
Enzo asked his right-hand men:
"Do we have anyone working in the Lincoln Community?"
His subordinate nodded:
"One-third of the state's construction workers are ours. I also happen to know that Marco's younger brother works there as a security guard."
Enzo's eyes lit up; a plan formed in his mind.
That night, a team of construction workers sneaked into the Lincoln Community villas.
The only light in the community came from the guard station. Guard Luca looked at seven or eight colleagues passed out on the ground and smiled coldly.
He took the keys hanging on the wall and unlocked the show homes for the opening day.
Considering the amount of sedative he had used, Luca told the workers:
"You have four hours."
"Enough," the leader replied.
"Remember to restore everything afterward."
Luca returned to the guard station, playing with a dagger—just in case anyone woke early.
Fortunately, the operation went smoothly; after three hours of hammering and drilling, it ceased.
Luca checked the house and, seeing it unchanged, asked:
"Timing under control?"
The workers proudly replied:
"Trust me, in 30 hours, it will collapse."
On March 3, Finn Harber, chairman of Destan Real Estate, personally visited the Lincoln Community villas.
Previously, he never appeared on-site. But since Leo arrived in Columbus, he had been tense at every opening, ready to counter Leo's moves.
"Everything is set up properly?"
Finn asked the project manager.
"Don't worry, boss. We've carefully selected the best locations, the best lighting, with years of guaranteed quality. Customers will be satisfied.
Also, unlike other places, under your foresight, we pre-developed numerous projects without price hikes. Why buy a speculative property when there are affordable ready homes?"
His subordinate's words reassured Finn slightly. With such solid planning, what could Leo do?
Soon, the gathering crowd eased his mind completely. Ohioans still trusted him.
Suddenly, he noticed people carrying long guns and cameras.
"You invited reporters?"
"No, boss. That paper—Hope Daily—their editor is obsessed with finding 20 newsworthy stories daily. They probably saw the crowd and considered it news. It only benefits us."
"Oh? That popular? I'll have my butler buy a copy later."
Finn only read serious newspapers, not an eight-cent rag. Free publicity pleased him, further confirming Destan's reputation in Ohio.
Yet, how could Leo possibly win in Ohio?
American Real Estate Group? If not involving me, I'll make you a laughingstock.
The entire East Coast will know your supposedly prestigious company is worthless.
Finn knew: If he could make Leo lose once, all the people Leo offended over the years would attack.
Not only could he savor the spoils, but he could also build massive networks.
Watching the crowd flood the show homes, Finn was ambitious—he would win!
Then, screams erupted at one of the display villas.
The crowd inside tried to push out, while more people surged in.
Two groups clashed at the doorway.
Inside, the main structural points cracked. In an instant, the house collapsed.
Smoke and screams filled the air.
The previously joyful opening became a disaster site.
Finn and his staff were stunned, but some keen observers exchanged sly glances.
Hidden in the crowd, a few shouted:
"Damn Destan Real Estate! Poor quality and selling it anyway. Save the people!"
They charged into the collapsing house.
Guided by them, the crowd spontaneously rescued trapped visitors.
While digging, a few stirred public outrage against Destan.
As relatives were dug out, anger spread.
"Destan's chairman is right there! Let's demand answers!"
Led by the agitators, the crowd moved rapidly toward Finn.
Finn kept wondering: Why did the house collapse?
His aides tried to escort him away, but reporters blocked him.
One journalist thrust a microphone toward Finn:
"Sir, with such a huge failure, how will you compensate the victims?"
Finn realized this reporter had framed Destan as the culprit, skipping investigation.
He tried to dodge, but the reporter blocked him.
Annoyed, Finn shoved the reporter, who fell backward.
Finn scrambled into his car.
The crowd threw debris at his vehicle.
Panicked, he urged the driver to flee.
When the police arrived, the crowd dispersed.
The Hope Daily reporter patted his cameraman:
"Got the shot of him pushing me, right?"
Thumbs up.
"Trust me, our $10,000 bonus this month is ours. Headline: 'Shocking! Destan CEO Finn Harber Assaults Reporter—Why?'"
When the paper reached Finn, he angrily threw down his milk cup:
"Despicable! Shameless! Petty!"
Back at the office, Finn checked construction records.
As a long-established company, records and subcontracting details were complete.
No issues—so the problem must be his rivals.
"Contact Hope Daily—whatever they demand, take the story down."
"If they refuse?"
Finn's eyes gleamed:
"Contact Connor Murphy. Make this paper disappear! Ohio is still our turf."
The project manager's expression hardened. Connor Murphy was the state's top Irish mafia boss.
Failing to negotiate with Hope Daily, the manager called Connor.
"Though Hope Daily pays protection, Finn's face is mine to protect. I'll make Hope Daily vanish in Ohio."
Meanwhile, Hope Daily's editor, West, reported to Leo:
"Boss, Connor in Columbus is ruthless. Offend him, and the least is ruin."
"Don't worry. Continue your work. I'll handle this."
After speaking with West, Leo called Enzo to explain. Enzo said he had long wanted to take down the Irish but feared bias in Columbus's upper echelons.
"I'll ensure a fair environment this time. Plus, I'll assign a capable assistant. Connor won't be needed."
Hope Daily was in a slum, with few police.
At the street's end, numerous Irish gang members in denim jackets, wielding Chicago-type guns, marched menacingly.
The streetside shops were closed; Connor's men nodded:
"Old John did well notifying the shops. Smash the paper. Any resistance—shoot."
Just as they neared the paper's door, Italian men in top hats appeared from second-floor windows, firing back.
Connor frowned from a nearby car. Gunfire seemed off.
A man selling cigarettes approached Connor.
Connor, trying to stay calm, handed over money.
In the moment of the transaction, the seller injected cyanide into Connor's neck.
Connor collapsed, lifeless.
That night, Columbus's underworld descended into chaos.
The Italian mafia launched a massive assault on Irish territory.
The underground crematorium for gang fights billowed smoke all night.
The next day, citizen complaints nearly crushed the police chief's desk.
As he prepared to handle the mafia, Ohio's FBI director appeared with a suitcase and folder.
They had long worked together.
"Zack, what is this?"
"Open the box."
The chief opened it, blinded by stacks of cash.
"Bribing me, Zack?"
"Open the folder!"
Photos of the chief with Irish mob boss Connor enjoying the company of the same woman.
"What are you doing, Zack?"
"Connor's dead. Choose friend or foe."
Zack quickly reported the mission complete to Hoover in Washington.
Hoover hung up, impressed: Leo had grown more formidable.
Meanwhile, Destan, entrenched in Ohio, would not rest.
Soon, the Columbus deputy mayor planned an anti-mafia speech.
Just as he was about to go on stage, the secretary of Ohio Congressman Allen Gleason appeared:
"Gleason wants you to go back and do your work."
"Thank you, Uncle Gleason."
At the state capitol, Phoenix hugged Gleason:
"Don't mention it. Your father and I are longtime friends. You investing here is welcome."
About 30% of Ocia Group's cigarette factories were in Ohio. Gleason's constituents' jobs depended on them.
Phoenix could leverage favors; Leo knew to behave.
"Mr. Gleason, American Real Estate, as a responsible company, will support good representatives for Ohioans. We will donate 3 million to your campaign and the deputy mayor's committee.
Also, the city hall is outdated. We'll donate a new building, and restore the old one as a museum."
Gleason shook Leo's hand:
"I've heard from Thomas you are socially responsible. Thank you for everything in Columbus."
On leaving, Phoenix asked Leo:
"Do we need such a big operation against one Destan?"
Leo replied:
"First, even a lion fights a rabbit with full strength. Second, as a new company, we need to show our power."
Finn Harber, realizing this, threw his phone against the wall.
All his high-level contacts were unreachable.
Worse, news of Destan's housing quality problems spread rapidly across the East Coast.
The day after his house collapsed, Moody's downgraded Destan's credit rating.
Capitalists began shorting Destan stock, and prices plummeted.
Desperate, Finn turned to his last political backer—Robert Al. F. Taft, Ohio's top political family leader and Senate Majority Leader.