The Religious Front Committee had been Leo's idea, with Marshall presiding over it. Under American financial backing, it brought together religious figures from across the globe to speak on behalf of the United States.
Its purpose was hardly pure, but Marshall had packaged it well. At present, it was regarded as the most prestigious institution in the global religious community.
Countless clergymen sought ways to join, but prestige came with high barriers. Without sufficient influence or a powerful sponsor, receiving an invitation was impossible.
Faced with such temptation, even Father Celis—who had once vowed to dedicate himself to the suffering peoples of South America under God's light—was moved.
Great ideals might be born of harsh reality, but they did not always withstand the grind of hardship.
Especially for someone like Father Celis, raised in an Italian middle-class family—his compassion could hardly match the selfish yearning for a better life.
He nodded. Just like that, Leo had placed another dog on his chain.
With the documents secured, Leo returned to the Governor's mansion. An Altria Group car was already parked outside. Leaning against it, Owen waved and called out:
"Leo, over here. Come on. Since you've come to British Honduras, you really ought to experience the gentlest part of the Atlantic."
This time, Leo didn't refuse. Yet, just as he stepped into the car, two luxury vehicles sped up and stopped in front of him.
Out stepped two weary men. Air travel in this era was rough enough—intercontinental flights were sheer torture.
They were none other than the men Governor Charles had been anxiously awaiting: Earl Robert and Jim Hacker.
"Robert? Jim? What are you two doing here?"
Leo was surprised, though he could already guess their intentions.
"Ha, a surprise, isn't it? London's weather is dreary—cold, wet, miserable. I thought of this little jewel of the Empire, where one can bask in the perfect sun. So, I came for a holiday.
And what do you know—I ran into Jim on the plane. Same thought, same destination. Here we are."
Robert lied without even blinking. A holiday? Nonsense. Governor Charles' face flushed red, for it was obvious neither Robert nor Hacker had ever set foot here before.
Leo and Charles weren't the only ones who saw through the lie. Inside the car, Owen, annoyed at having his plans disrupted, muttered to his brother in the passenger seat:
"Who are these two liars?"
His voice wasn't loud, but not soft either. Robert and Hacker, standing nearby, heard it clearly.
Robert arched a brow, lifted his chin proudly, and declared:
"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself. I am Earl Robert, younger brother of the Duke of Westminster. And you are?"
Sunlight, beaches, tobacco fields, sugarcane groves, and airy buildings designed for natural ventilation.
On a comfortable bamboo sofa sat Leo—undeniably in the place of honor. Yet the second seat of importance was not occupied by host Owen, but by Robert, who had just introduced himself and been invited with great respect to sit there.
It couldn't be helped. Though Americans had surpassed Britain economically, culturally they remained insecure. To them, even a declining British noble could enjoy an enviable life here, simply by talking big.
As a typical Southern "country bumpkin," Owen shared this mentality. He even extended courtesy to Hacker, letting him sit at his right hand.
What struck Leo as absurd was that George Bush, Jesse Mortimer, and Clea Giannini—all present—showed no objection. Instead, they quietly accepted sitting on low round stools meant for servants, across the coffee table.
"So then, your lies are transparent to all. Tell me, Robert, Jim—what really brings you all this way to find me?"
Leo asked bluntly.
As an old aristocrat, Robert felt no shame at being exposed. He kept his composure and replied:
"As the one most skilled in business among my noble peers, I came for wealth, naturally."
Leo chuckled.
"You've seen it yourself—my Central American company is still only in the survey stage. Even when it turns a profit, it'll be slow and steady. What I value is its long-term potential, not quick gains.
So if you came for that, you'll be disappointed. This is nothing like our last deal."
He said it casually, but for Owen and Phoenix—the only two unaware—it was shocking.
Everyone knew the influence of the Westminster family in London. For such a high-ranking aristocrat to have previously partnered with Leo—and profitably, at that—was news indeed. And for Leo to say the returns outstripped what Central America could offer? That was no small claim.
Owen glanced at Phoenix, hoping for an explanation. Phoenix shook his head slightly—he knew nothing of such a deal.
The brothers looked to the others, but since Leo hadn't spoken of it, no one else would either. They could only mark it down silently. After all, any profitable deal was one the Willards would want in on.
"Of course, I'm not here for Central America. The waters here are deep, the waves too strong. We aristocrats long ago gave up chasing quick money here.
But I hear you've quietly pulled off a six-hundred-million-dollar deal?"
Robert pressed.
Leo smirked.
"Ha. You're a mounted noble, not a hunting hound. Don't sniff so eagerly. Tell me, Robert, do you intend to shove your nose into all my businesses?"
The insult was deliberate. Not everyone deserved Rockefeller-style courtesy.
But Robert remained unfazed, smiling as he continued:
"Leo, at least in the Commonwealth market we could cooperate. With my assistance—and your unbeatable retail model—I'm sure we'd make a fortune."
"I think you mean in the stock market."
Leo's smile turned cold.
"And why not? From what I hear, your Valentino Retail Group has practically monopolized every city and town across the eastern, southern, and northeastern United States.
Such scale, with such growth potential… Why not consider going public? Tap into investor funds for expansion.
And with your overseas holdings, your stock price would soar. A valuation of two billion dollars would be easy."
Robert's analysis brimmed with confidence.
Leo shook his head.
"No, Robert, you're mistaken. Retail isn't real estate. You can't just buy land and sit back. It's more like crops in a field—needing care and cultivation.
Expansion? I regret to say, I have no such plan.
As for this so-called Valentino Retail Group, it's only part of a long-term vision. For now, they're separate, each developing at their own pace. That's how retail really works."
He wasn't wrong. Retail expansion depended on advances in science and technology. But in truth, the group could exist regardless.
Leo simply tied the two ideas together for his own purposes: if suitable shareholders appeared, the group could form. If not, the current setup worked fine. With W Supply Chain under his control, no retailer could stray beyond his reach.
As soon as Leo and Robert began discussing retail, everyone's focus sharpened.
Did anyone really come south for Central America? To them, the sugar and banana trade here meant little.
The true prize was the Valentino Retail Group—the same goal as Robert's.
Especially the Altria brothers. Their father had ordered them to get in on this retail venture at all costs—even sacrificing some U.S. real estate holdings if necessary. Retail was downstream from Altria's tobacco empire. For years, retailers competed fiercely for each new batch of Altria cigarettes.
But now, with Leo's retailers rising, the balance was shifting. Altria could no longer tolerate its products absent from the shelves of trendy shops favored by young consumers.
George Bush and Jesse Mortimer, too, had their eyes on the same prize: handling the IPO of the Valentino Retail Group.
As for Clea, she cared the least. To Leo, she was simply arm candy and an ATM in human form. With Yelena and Marina both pregnant and sent west, Leo suddenly found his circle of Eastern mistresses lacking. Clea filled the gap.
Even she, though, sensed Leo's words weren't to be taken at face value. Everyone else certainly did.
"Leo, even without going public, a group still requires capital. Why not allow your friends to invest—help stabilize and accelerate growth?
Let's be frank. I promise to offer a price that will tempt you. Don't reject me until you've heard it."
Robert pressed again, certain Leo's refusals were just bargaining tactics.
But Leo cut him off before he could make an offer.
"Gentlemen, you are all my business partners. I know why you're here. But I have a rule: I do not allow partners from one venture to cross into another.
So, I'm sorry. Truly sorry."
The statement killed the discussion.
Yet Jim Hacker hadn't expected someone else to speak up. Owen suddenly said:
"Mr. Leo, if the Willard family were willing to give up its shares in American Realty in exchange for future shares in the Valentino Retail Group—would you consider it?"
No wonder Owen was seen as the next family head. He was bold. But bold men needed reminding.
"Owen, thank you for your company and your help. But that doesn't make us friends.
American Realty shares? Did you even ask Phoenix? As far as I know, all those shares belong to his investment firm.
Unlike you, Phoenix is my friend. Only he has the right to make that decision."
Owen flushed red, while Phoenix felt deeply moved. He quickly pulled his brother out, calming him with hushed words. Soon Phoenix returned, while Owen stormed off toward the Latin beauties by the beach—needing to vent his fury elsewhere.
"Leo, as your friend, I thank you for your respect. But I am still a Willard, and Owen has promised me that even if we exchange shares, our stake in the Valentino Retail Group would remain under my investment firm.
So, could such an exchange be possible?"
Phoenix asked earnestly.
"Of course. As a friend, your request is reasonable. But there's one condition: you must find me a new partner—equal in weight to Altria—to replace you in American Realty."
Leo's gaze swept across the disappointed faces of Robert and the others.
"You all have the same chance. I know my demand is harsh. To make amends, I will allow the shareholders of Valentino Retail Group to be your trusted allies.
But note well: they must match your strength and influence. They cannot be mere stand-ins. They must bring tangible benefit to the group.
The friendship you earn in convincing them—that will be my apology and compensation."
Eyes lit up all around. Everyone knew Leo's ventures were a goldmine. Even if they couldn't profit directly, passing the chance to a powerful ally—and gaining equal favors in return—was hardly a loss.