The moment they stepped out of the restaurant, McKee's expression instantly darkened. He turned to Leo and said:
"You don't need to give those three relics too much face — not even me."
Truman was a little surprised. He had only come because of McKee's presence. Of course, those three families were important, and he did fear their power, but as president, he had to at least take the main seat at the table — he couldn't simply act like a guest.
He had assumed McKee was among those trying to put pressure on Leo. Unexpectedly, McKee, like himself, had been forced to attend by the three families.
Indeed, McKee had been dragged there against his will. Though men at their level rarely spoke harshly, no Federal Reserve Chairman could completely ignore the influence of the Rockefellers and Morgans.
And with Goldman Sachs mixed in between those two giants, he had no choice but to come.
Still, he was far from happy about it. After all, during the Florida deal, he had promised Leo he would stay out of this matter. Yet here he was, breaking his word.
For ordinary people, a broken promise might mean little. But for McKee, whose reputation had been cultivated over decades, it was a great loss — one that money could not repair.
That was why, as soon as they left the restaurant, he told Leo directly: don't bother giving me face.
The cigars had barely burned halfway when John Stillman came out, personally inviting the three men back inside.
The smoke from the half-finished cigars drifted into the air. Inside, the atmosphere grew tense under a silence heavy enough to crush the room.
Seeing Leo still refusing to speak first, David finally broke the silence:
"Only one chance to name a price?"
Leo slowly but firmly nodded.
David noticed McKee hadn't returned to his previous seat, but instead had sat down beside Leo. He realized then that they had thoroughly offended McKee this time.
After some silent glances were exchanged, it was John Stillman who finally spoke:
"The funds from this housing program will be divided into four parts. The East, the Midwest, and the South go to you. The West goes to Pacific Realty."
"Why?"
Leo's words caught John off guard.
"Why should the West go to you? That money rightfully belongs to me — even if Chairman McKee has already spoken."
John's face darkened. He thought Leo was going back on his word, certain that Leo must have whispered something to McKee outside.
But Jack Morgan and David Rockefeller, who knew Leo better, recognized this for what it was: he was waiting for them to put an exchange on the table.
David spoke the line they had prepared in advance:
"Under the leadership of Chairman McKee, we will grant you three years of exclusive authorization for our tax sheltering network. For that period, all American fortunes seeking to avoid taxes will go through your channels."
"Deal. That's it for today."
On the way back to his Washington residence, Leo reflected on the ambush dinner. He knew perfectly well that David's claim — that all American fortunes would pass through his hands — was just talk. No one would ever let Leo see their real income.
Still, even symbolic revenues would be a hefty sum. Since he had already agreed, it was worth securing some tangible benefit.
With Truman's signature on the National Housing Act, America's real estate boom officially began.
The first batch of $4 billion in funds was transferred almost instantly.
The East received $1.5 billion, allocated to Atlantic Realty.
The South received $1 billion, given to Southern Realty.
The West received $1 billion, assigned to Pacific Realty.
The Midwest got $500 million, left as an open market for other American real estate firms to bid on — though, of course, Atlantic Realty and others were free to join.
By late June, Los Angeles was blazing hot.
In a conference room equipped with a projector, Anderson Wood, General Manager of Pacific Realty's Development Department, was enthusiastically giving a presentation. Sitting below him were several fellow executives from the East.
On the screen, the slides laid out detailed data on Jessie Realty.
"Acquiring them would greatly make up for Pacific's weaknesses, boost our competitiveness, and since they also hold influence in the Midwest, it would help us secure projects there as well," Anderson said.
"It's a fine target, no doubt. But unfortunately, we lack the funds," said the head of Pacific Realty's Finance Department, freshly transferred from the East. "When we chose to break away before the dissolution of American Realty, West Headquarters had $300 million in liquid assets on the parent company's books. That's gone now. At present, our development depends entirely on mortgages from Eastern banks. Even if we pledged more collateral, it wouldn't be enough to buy out a firm the size of Jessie Realty."
"True," added Anderson's fellow Harvard alum, now an assistant to the board. "You've done acquisitions before. You know Jessie Realty is publicly listed, but very little of its stock actually circulates on the market. That makes acquisition extremely difficult — unless they suffer some major internal crisis."
"You think I don't know that? Look at this."
Anderson motioned for his secretary to pass around yesterday's Los Angeles Times.
"Page two."
The executives unfolded the paper and read the headline: Major Turmoil at Jessie Realty — New Faction Challenges the Old Guard.
The article reported that an internal power struggle had broken out at Jessie Realty, with the younger faction attempting to wrest control from the old guard, leaving the company unstable and morale shaken.
"This is an opportunity. In such times, disillusioned shareholders are far more willing to sell their stakes," Anderson's alum remarked.
"The only problem is — where do we get the money?" the Finance head asked.
No sooner had he spoken than the executives all exchanged looks, grins spreading on their faces.
Anderson leaned back and said coolly:
"Didn't we just receive $1 billion in government funds?"
"Let's go see Mr. Lehman," said his alum.
Meanwhile, in a nearby high-rise conference room, heated shouting filled the air.
"You're dreaming! This company bears the Jessie name — it belongs to our family!" roared Luke Jessie, his face twisted in anger as he shouted across the table at Sean.
Sean sneered and stood up as well.
"Young Master Luke, perhaps you've forgotten — Jessie Realty is a listed company. From the moment it went public, it ceased being a private family asset. Look around this room. Aside from you and the chairman, who else here is a Jessie?
And since you brought up 'family property,' maybe you've forgotten how you persuaded us to join in the first place. You promised that if we could deliver profits at least 15% higher each year, we would earn our way into the company's core decision-making circle.
Well, not only did we meet that mark — we far exceeded it. Last year, most of Jessie Realty's profits came from us. Yet you still deny us our place. Frankly, if not for old Mr. Jessie's constant pleas, we'd have broken off long ago!"
At Sean's words, the representatives of the smaller firms Jessie Realty had absorbed rose in agreement.
Opposing them stood the old Jessie board members, whose work mostly involved the company's traditional residential projects. With that sector shrinking, they were most afraid of losing their current positions, and so they rallied behind Luke Jessie.
Most of the directors were Western men, and once words no longer sufficed, they tore off their jackets and started brawling in the conference room.
The secretaries by the walls merely exchanged knowing looks. This wasn't the first fight — it had happened many times this past week. Quietly, they slipped out and shut the door behind them.
One of them said to a tall, lanky young man:
"Anthony, please fetch the chairman, or they'll be at it all night again."
Anthony nodded and headed upstairs, though he wasn't confident the chairman would come. He knew how exhausted the old man had become from these constant feuds.
Sure enough, when Anthony opened the office door, smoke poured out. There, under a cloud of cigar haze, sat Derrick Jessie, the chairman himself.
"They're at it again?" came the rasping, weary voice.
"Yes, sir," Anthony replied.
"No one's willing to compromise?"
"No, sir."
A heavy sigh. Then Derrick asked abruptly:
"Anthony, how much longer until my Hawaiian villa is finished?"
Startled, Anthony answered reflexively:
"The main structure is done, sir. One more month until interior work is complete."
"One month… That's enough." Derrick Jessie rose suddenly, the old cowboy fire still in him. "Luke is no businessman. If he inherits Jessie Realty, it will be this company's death. Look at him now — so easily flattered, letting fools use him as their pawn. He's an embarrassment."
He grabbed the hunting rifle hanging on the wall, stormed downstairs, and kicked open the conference room door.
Bang!
The blast echoed through the sealed chamber, silencing the melee at once.
Derrick Jessie swept his gaze across the room, pausing when he saw his son pinned beneath Sean, his face beaten to a pulp. For a brief moment, sorrow flickered in his eyes. He, once a hero, had raised such a worthless heir.
"Gentlemen, leave. From today, Jessie Realty halts all business. I will announce to the public that Jessie Realty is for sale. Highest bidder wins."
"This isn't fair!" shouted Kevin. "We never received the shares we were promised. If you sell Jessie Realty now, we'll have no choice but to take this to court."
"I will give you what you were promised — just as I said before," Derrick replied.
"Father!"
"Chairman!" Luke and the old guard cried.
"Shut up!"
Derrick swung the rifle toward them, silencing them at once.
"Sean, Kevin — with me. We'll discuss your shares. As for the rest of you, the new distribution chart will be out tomorrow. After that, you may sell to whomever you wish. My advice? Sell with the company — you'll fetch a higher price."
Washington, Leo's residence.
The phone's ring woke him. Picking up, he heard Sean's voice:
"Boss, we've hit our target. I've secured 10% of Jessie Realty, Kevin has 15%, and the allied shareholders hold another 10%. Together, that's 35%. Old Man Jessie keeps 30%, his son Luke 5%. That's another 35%. The public float is 15%. The remaining swing voters hold 15%."
"Good. Do you have the names and addresses of those swing shareholders?"
"Yes, boss," Sean replied.
"Excellent. Send the list to Mike. Tell him I want 10%. The remaining 5% — however much he secures, it's his. I'll cover the cost."
Leo hung up.
Back in Los Angeles, the news of Jessie Realty's impending sale shook the entire Western business world.
Arriving at the Pacific Realty building, Robert Lehman was filled with regret.
Just days earlier, his subordinates had brought him an acquisition plan for Jessie Realty. At first, he had been excited. But being cautious, he took it to Carson Merlin — only to be mocked.
Carson had explained in detail his thirty years of fighting Jessie Realty, stressing how impossible Derrick Jessie was to deal with. He swore the recent turmoil was just Derrick's ploy, a ruse to stir up the market since Pacific and Western Realty had been stealing the spotlight.
Robert found Carson's reasoning convincing. And indeed, as Carson said, Pacific was strapped for cash. The idea of misusing government funds was tempting, but if discovered, it could become a scandal.
So, back in his office, Lehman had mocked his subordinates in the same tone Carson had used, telling them to "think harder."
Now, with Jessie Realty truly on the market, Lehman no longer cared about his pride. What gnawed at him was the realization that he might have missed the perfect opportunity.
He immediately convened a meeting — deliberately excluding CEO Carson Merlin.
At the table, he turned to Anderson, the man who had first submitted the acquisition plan.
"How much do we need? Who are the best targets?"
Anderson was ready:
"Sir, we only need to become the largest shareholder — 35%. At first glance, buying from the Jessie family seems simplest. But their asking price will be sky-high.
In reality, Jessie Realty's core assets are its luxury residences, hotels, and office buildings. Most of these are controlled by subsidiaries. The key figures are Sean and Kevin, both recognized as prodigies in the construction industry.
We could swap Pacific Realty shares for theirs, and add some cash. That way, we don't just acquire shares — we acquire talent."
"Well done, Anderson. I hereby place you in charge of this acquisition!" Robert Lehman declared with a sweep of his hand.
"Wait! I don't agree!"
The conference room doors slammed open. Carson Merlin stormed in, fury written all over his face.