Washington Train Station.
Leo and Truman embraced tightly.
"You've won 303 electoral votes, Dewey only got 189. After Ohio, we even took California, a traditional Republican state! Harry, you've accomplished an unimaginable super comeback!"
"Leo, this is our joint effort. Without you, this victory wouldn't have been possible!"
After some brief pleasantries, Leo handed Truman a newspaper.
Truman looked down. The front page of the Chicago Tribune read:
"Governor Dewey of New York Wins the Presidential Election."
"What?" Truman was stunned.
Leo shrugged and said, "These so-called professionals spent a whole year proving to the American people how unprofessional they really are.
Now you can have your fun, Harry."
With that, Leo stepped aside. Behind him, President Roosevelt's specially designed bulletproof Lincoln convertible sat quietly.
Truman's eyes lit up. Excitedly, he asked, "So now I can officially ride in this car?"
After Roosevelt's death, many in the party thought Truman, who succeeded by luck, wasn't qualified to sit in the president's car. This had always been a sore point for Truman.
"Of course. You are the president chosen by the American people. No one is more qualified than you to sit in it."
As the car left the train station, supporters waiting on both sides erupted into cheers.
Truman stood, smiling, waving the Chicago Tribune. The headline showing Dewey defeating him was glaring. The crowd on both sides laughed heartily.
Reporters who had planned to interview Truman lowered their heads in shame. Ultimately, the interview became an exclusive feature for the World Newspaper. As the journalists organized their articles, they all felt in their hearts: a new giant in American political journalism had emerged.
After the brief interview, Truman was set to go to the west side plaza of the U.S. Capitol for his inaugural speech.
As Truman left, Daniel exhaled and said, "The battle is finally over!"
Leo shook his head. "On the contrary, Daniel, the battle has only just begun."
"True. We need to claim our reward from Truman."
Leo shook his head again. "Truman isn't in a hurry. We won't take it by force; he must willingly give it. No one follows a leader who conquers a kingdom but doesn't honor their promises.
Now, grab your notebook. We're boarding the train to New York. It's time to settle accounts!"
Leo boarded the train, quietly reciting an Eastern phrase Daniel couldn't understand:
"Pursue the defeated with valor, but never seek fame as a tyrant!"
At the plaza in front of the Empire State Building, a Bentley screeched to a halt, tires shrieking against the pavement.
Before the car fully stopped, Roland Morgan jumped out and rushed into the building.
On the first floor, he saw Austin—the one who had prevented him from obtaining Augustus's files a few days ago.
Roland didn't hesitate. Having just learned the election results, he realized Dewey, on whom he had heavily bet, had lost. His faction suffered a heavy loss. If he wanted to avoid a major blow, he needed a backup resource.
Nothing was more suitable than Augustus's assets, which had been prepared as spoils of the election. As soon as he knew Dewey lost, Roland dragged the Manhattan district court judge out of bed to obtain legal permission to open Augustus's filing cabinet. Then, without pause, he rushed here.
He felt proud, believing he would catch Leo off guard. After all, any normal person would first collect the chips from the table after winning a gamble.
"Mr. Roland, slow down," Austin tried to stop him but grabbed nothing.
Forty-year-old Roland, surprisingly agile, dodged him effortlessly. He even waved the files at Austin:
"You no longer have the right to stop me."
Austin looked helpless. "I'm not trying to stop you, just informing you the building's power is out today."
"That won't stop me!" Roland instinctively said. Then he realized the elevators weren't responding at all.
Angrily, he said, "Don't think I don't know. The Empire State Building has backup power."
Austin shrugged. "We just took over from Iron Lion. The building staff aren't very familiar yet."
"You—you shameless! Where's the staircase?"
Roland, clever as he was, instantly realized they were intentionally delaying him. His plan to catch them off guard was likely ruined. Austin standing there proved someone could stop him. But now, with no time to waste, Roland charged toward the staircase Austin indicated.
"Mr. Roland, you'll have to climb 40 floors!"
Roland, used to comfort, didn't stop. When exhausted, two bodyguards helped him ascend.
Just as he thought he might die, the bodyguards' voices gave him hope.
"Boss, we're here!"
Roland's eyes shone. He pushed his last bit of strength and burst out of the staircase, sweating, clutching the files.
Ahead, Austin held water, Charlie a towel, both smiling warmly. Behind them stood Leo, and next to him, the stern-faced Jack Morgan with his cane.
Roland's spirit collapsed. He had become a pawn, losing face for the Morgan family.
"Go to London and retrieve Augustus," Jack said, condemning Roland completely.
In Augustus's office, Jack glared: "Young man, Roland has received his punishment. Why reduce Morgan Bank's loan to American Realty?"
For most commercial banks, lending to American Realty was a golden opportunity. After learning of Roland's blunder, Jack accompanied Leo to make things clear. As an old-school man, Jack expected Leo to understand the weight of this visit.
"Jack, mistakes come with a price. Without you, I could have blocked Roland myself. But that wouldn't have been kind to my friend Augustus. That's why I asked for your help."
Jack, having weathered countless storms, remained unshaken by Leo's threat. Rising, he headed for the door, glancing at Leo:
"So you're ready for a full-scale battle with the Morgan family. You really think winning the presidential election gives you everything?"
Jack walked to the elevator, confident Leo would try to stop him—something that rarely failed in his life. Observing the approaching elevator, Jack thought the young man was remarkably calm.
"Daniel, contact Mr. Thomas McKay."
Jack paused. McKay was one of the few people who could challenge him. Losing control of the Federal Reserve had always been a Morgan family pain. Jack's priority was to maintain the family's influence. McKay was his main rival.
But Jack, as family head, couldn't bow.
Before Leo could wait for McKay's reply, a call came from Augustus in the UK.
"Leo, let's settle this on my terms this time."
"Augustus, if you had called me before leaving for the UK, I would have respected your terms. But now, I can't. You never treated me as a friend. I should have known when the enemy would strike back. Since you don't value our friendship, forget about 'terms.'"
Silence followed on the other end. Augustus opened his mouth several times but said nothing. Finally, he sighed and said,
"I'm sorry, my friend. To make you value our friendship again, I'm giving up 12% of American Realty shares."
Leo was surprised, sensing Augustus's intentions.
"What are you planning, Augustus?"
"I've been thinking in the UK. Since I was bound by what I once owned, I'll return it. The old Morgan is decayed; let's create a new Morgan. I admit I don't have the ability alone. I need you once more, Mr. Valentino, to create another miracle."
Leo asked, "How do you plan to do it?"
"I'm setting up an investment bank in the UK. Given I'm giving you billions in American Realty shares, I ask you to be a partner—bringing massive funds in, but not as controlling shareholder."
Leo said, "This isn't an apology, Augustus. You're liquidating American Realty shares for me."
"Half of the $1 billion shares as compensation to you, the remaining $500 million as capital for the firm."
Leo had $500 million in cash—far faster for capital growth than investing through Augustus's firm.
"I'll invest $500 million, but this company won't concern you. If you imagine it's worth $1 billion, at most I'll allow $200 million. And I want 49% ownership."
"Impossible. You greedy fellow. $200 million grants at most 15% shares."
"Ha! Even crazier than I imagined. Over $1 billion valuation? You're insane, Augustus."
"Leo, this company includes several European royals. And we've found a truly good project."
Before Augustus finished, Leo quipped, "But a good project needs money, right?"
After a pause, Augustus said, "Sometimes the truth hurts."
"I understand. You need $200 million to launch this project. $100 million as my investment for 12% shares, the remaining $100 million as your loan. Interest at the latest Morgan Bank rate. The lower the loan rate, the lower your interest."
"Remind me why I taught you so much, Augustus. No tuition collected. Your growth is too fast. When will you transfer the funds?"
"The day after tomorrow. I'll bring the money myself," Leo said.
"You're crazy! You risk your election gains and run to the UK, leaving American Realty's problems?"
"My leaving ensures those lurking in the shadows dare not unite. Time is precious; defeating them one by one is too slow."
"Your confidence is high. But I don't recommend this. Winning this election gives you at least four years of dividend."
"Let's discuss in person in the UK."
Leo hung up, his gaze toward Washington. Truman should be enjoying the confidence of an elected president. The longer Leo observed him, the more he saw Truman as a Goujian-like figure—only suitable for sharing hardships, not wealth.
Cautious as ever, Leo made multiple preparations. On the flight to London, holding newspapers, a faint smile appeared on his lips.
Washington Post, New York Times, Chicago Tribune, all the papers that had predicted Truman's defeat issued apologies.
November in London was cold. After finishing business with Augustus, Leo went to his companies.
This five-story 18th-century building housed ten companies: three investment firms, two asset management companies, and five trust companies. It was the starting and ending point of Leo's financial channels.
Leo handed Edward the stack of international business cards from Augustus.
"New clients. And the $400 million given by the Evangelicals to the Pope remains in our Italian bank, right?"
Edward nodded. "Of course. The Vatican won't spend it all at once. They'll use it gradually; the interest generated is our profit."
"We need Father Cade to explain how they're spending this money."
As they discussed controlling the Evangelicals while gaining favor with the Vatican, Edward's phone rang. He answered, then handed it to Leo:
"It's Miss Evelyn."
On the line, Evelyn's voice was anxious:
"Leo, Emily called. She's in trouble."
A flash of ruthlessness crossed Leo's eyes. Among his many women, Emily and Evelyn had different standings.
At the same time, Turner called as Leo prepared to fly to Austria. Enemies who tried to undermine Leo before the election were beginning to regroup.
"Turner, check if there are any new allies besides old friends!"