"That's how it happened, Mr. Lehman. Western Real Estate turned into the spoiler," Anderson said nervously. He thought he had ruined everything and was about to face Lehman's furious storm.
But to his surprise, Robert Lehman didn't curse at him. Instead, he stood, patted Anderson on the shoulder, and consoled him:
"It's fine, Anderson. It would've been stranger if Western Real Estate hadn't interfered. Raise the offer. I authorize you to go as high as three hundred million. If it goes beyond that, come back to me. Also, consider using other methods besides just bidding."
Anderson nodded thoughtfully.
Once he left, Robert Lehman's face instantly darkened. They had made the first move, and yet still bungled it. But at this point, it wasn't the right time to change generals mid-battle.
He had already decided that when he returned east, he would take Anderson with him. This fool was not fit to be the head of Pacific Real Estate.
With Lehman's authorization, Anderson suddenly became emboldened. He immediately arranged a meeting with Sean and Kevin in the same conference room as before.
This time, in addition to the two, Austin followed Kevin inside—which Anderson had already anticipated.
Before anyone could sit down, Anderson declared:
"I have the boss's authorization. Sean, we'll add another two hundred million, which means you and Kevin get one hundred million each. Sean, this is already the kind of money most people can only dream of. You should learn to be content."
"Two hundred and forty million. That's another twenty million each. Unlike Mr. Lehman, I don't think that's too much for you. Trust me, gentlemen—you're worth it."
It was Austin who spoke.
"You…"
Anderson gritted his teeth in fury. This guy was infuriating.
Thinking of the cap Lehman had given him, Anderson stomped his foot and said through clenched teeth:
"Two hundred and sixty million! This is our final offer. Take it or leave it. Even if Pacific Real Estate has to walk away, with that much money we can make up for our shortcomings."
His eyes were bloodshot as he spoke. Sean and Kevin, seasoned actors in their own right, turned dramatically toward Austin again. Austin, an even better performer, slammed the table and shouted:
"Two hundred and eighty million! Western Real Estate's final offer!"
The moment he spoke, Anderson cursed him inwardly, but quickly retorted:
"Three hundred million. Pacific Real Estate."
As soon as the words left his lips, Anderson slumped against the chair, utterly drained. If Austin dared to raise again, he truly had no strength left to follow.
"Congratulations, Anderson. Your courage and Pacific Real Estate's financial strength have won you a prime asset."
As Austin extended his hand, Anderson felt deeply uncomfortable. In his gut, he knew he'd been played. Sean and Kevin's shares were never worth that much.
Still, at least the deal was secured.
The reason Anderson had spent every last cent so recklessly was because Lehman told him to find other ways to raise funds. He had tried—but discovered that across all of California, the Jewish gangs rejected him outright.
What shocked him even more was that in such a big city like Los Angeles, there wasn't a single reliable Jewish gang to work with.
When Anderson returned to Pacific Real Estate, ready to bring Robert Lehman the good news, he overheard angry shouting from inside the office:
"Tell me, Carson, why have our numbers dropped so sharply while Western Real Estate, a brand-new company, is performing so well?"
Anderson hesitated, but it was too late to retreat. He knocked, and a gruff "Come in" answered.
Inside, Robert Lehman stood waving his arms, while Carson sat across from him calmly.
"What is it?" Robert glared at Anderson.
"Sir, I came to tell you—we've acquired Sean and Kevin's shares. With a few more minor shareholders, we can complete the takeover of Jesse Real Estate."
"Then go acquire them!"
"Sir, the money you gave me is already gone." Anderson braced himself.
"What! That was three hundred million—enough to buy the entire Jesse Real Estate before! And now you're telling me you've only bought part of it?"
Robert's eyes said it all: How much did you skim?
Anderson felt wronged. For once, he hadn't pocketed anything.
"You didn't use those little tricks you're so fond of in the East?" Robert pressed.
"I…"
Anderson didn't know how to explain. In America, what city didn't have Jewish gangs? And yet Los Angeles truly had none.
Seeing Anderson tongue-tied, Robert exhaled sharply. With so much sunk cost, he had no choice but to continue. "How much more do you need?"
"Another ten million, sir. Sean and Kevin are secured—the minor shareholders won't be a problem." Anderson said confidently.
Robert approved the funds, but inwardly he had already lost faith in Anderson. He decided then and there: Anderson would be dismissed after finishing the acquisition. He wouldn't return east, and he wouldn't stay west either.
Carson, however, spoke up:
"I don't think ten million will be enough. Western Real Estate already acquired the Jesse family's shares. They now hold the same stake as us. They'll definitely compete for the minor shareholders."
He handed Lehman a copy of the Los Angeles Post. The front page reported the news—yesterday's edition.
"You didn't notice this?" Robert roared.
Anderson froze. He had spent all of yesterday strategizing how to win Sean over, and hadn't checked the news at all.
Robert snatched back the ten-million check Anderson had just issued, tore it into shreds, then wrote a new one—for fifty million. He handed it over, his jaw tight:
"Listen. Don't screw this up again."
After Anderson left, Carson remarked:
"You could've just bought Sean and Kevin outright. No need to acquire Jesse Real Estate at all—it saves fifty million. And you know as well as I do, with Anderson's ability, it's still uncertain whether he'll succeed even with that money."
Robert's temples throbbed. Of course he knew the optimal choice. But there were bigger considerations.
First, he needed this deal to prove himself and qualify for Ford's IPO.
Second, bringing Sean and Kevin on board wouldn't solve his funding problem. To free up government investments, Jesse Real Estate had to be mortgaged—and only an asset of that scale could qualify.
This second problem was especially urgent. He had already borrowed another fifty million, and based on Carson's latest news, he would need even more.
"Enough about stupid Anderson. Carson, tell me—why have our results fallen so badly?"
Robert waved the Pacific Real Estate financial report in his hand. It was the first month since his takeover, and the numbers were shockingly bad. In the past, such a report would've triggered a stock market crash if American Real Estate hadn't already delisted.
"The reason is simple. Look at these two business cards."
Carson pulled out two cards. One was Pacific Real Estate's, the other Western Real Estate's.
Robert studied them skeptically. They looked similar enough. "If I had to point out a difference—it's that Western Real Estate's card has a small skyscraper symbol in the corner. But what does that have to do with our falling sales?"
"A great deal. That tiny symbol is the American Real Estate Association's certification mark. If you go to the communities we developed before, you'll see the same mark embedded in the buildings. It signals certification.
Since you took over, our new projects don't carry that mark."
"A symbol can be that powerful?" Robert asked doubtfully.
Carson read his thoughts and explained:
"You're a billionaire. You buy historic estates or brand-new luxury mansions. Developers would never dare cut corners on you. But ordinary people are different. A house is their lifetime home, and they know developers' tricks all too well. They research obsessively.
That's where the certification comes in. After becoming president of the American Real Estate Association, Leo Valentino created the Preferred Standard and published it. At first, people were skeptical. But over the past three years, every single satisfaction survey of certified projects has shown 100% approval.
Do you know what that means? In our industry, as long as a house carries the mark, it will sell."
"Then why hasn't Valentino publicized it? This is my first time hearing about it," Robert pressed.
"That's his brilliance. Not publicizing has two advantages. First, fewer companies know about it, which preserves quality. Until now, it's been exclusive to American Real Estate and a few friendly partners.
Second, it forces buyers to discover it themselves. When someone does exhaustive research, they feel like they've uncovered a hidden gem—something others don't know. That psychological effect makes them actively seek the mark. Once they see it, the sale is nearly guaranteed.
If you still don't get it, think of it like Wall Street's big investment banks. Wealthy clients flock to them simply for the prestige of the brand."
At that, Robert finally understood—but his frown deepened. This was not an easy problem to solve.
"What's your solution, Carson?" he asked.
"First, lean into hotels and premium office buildings, as Sean's team did. Jesse Real Estate's survival against American Real Estate proves their strategy was right—but it will take time.
Second, a price war. Only slashing prices will attract the first wave of residents to our developments. Once they move in, we can run surveys and gradually regain market share."
"Price war?" Robert hesitated. Only he knew how much debt he was already carrying. "How much?"
"At least one to two hundred million. Because when we cut, they'll cut too. With their certification edge, we'll need to undercut them twice as much."
Robert sucked in a breath. Another hundred, maybe two hundred million. Real estate played on a scale even bigger than finance—billions moved like pocket change.
"Can't it be less?"
"Don't we have all those big banks backing us? This is legitimate strategy—they can't refuse to support it."
Carson's words struck Robert. He'd been obsessing over diverting government investment funds, when in fact, as Carson said, they should be borrowing from the big eastern banks.
With Carson asking for two hundred million, Robert was confident he could smooth-talk his way into three. Perfect—he could even use the extra to pay down the sky-high interest from smaller banks.
"Carson, if you admired Jesse Real Estate so much, why oppose it back then?"
"Because it was expensive," Carson replied simply, then left.
Robert was a man of action. After convening a quick call, three hundred million in loans arrived.
Carson launched the price war, and Pacific Real Estate's slumping sales stabilized. Robert breathed easier, though Carson's earlier words stayed with him—only Jesse's model could truly survive long-term.
So Robert waited anxiously for Anderson to bring him good news. But days turned into weeks, and Anderson never reported back. Finally, on July 1st, Robert summoned him.
"How's the acquisition?"
"We've secured five percent." Anderson lowered his head.
"Only five? With all that money? Step it up—don't jeopardize the company's future!"
"Mr. Lehman… there's not much more we can do. The money's nearly gone." Anderson had given up. He already sensed his end was near.
"What? Again? Why?"
"Because Austin from Western Real Estate is buying at the same time. We're locked in a Verdun-style stalemate."
Robert ground his teeth. "So how much more?"
"At least another hundred million."
"Get out! You're fired, you idiot!" Robert roared.
In Washington, at the Valentino Spa Hotel, Leo listened to Carson's secret report from the West:
"The price war must continue—harder and longer. Keep bleeding those eastern bankers dry. Force them to keep pouring money into the West."
"I understand. But tell me honestly—since we could reclaim Pacific Real Estate anytime and let it grow properly, why waste resources fighting the bankers in this pointless struggle?" Carson asked.
"No, Carson, this is not pointless. I'll give you another one percent of Blackstone Capital to cover your losses. You know as well as I do, real estate isn't my only business.
The reason I'm draining the East's cash flow is because several of my other companies are about to go public. A big show in the West distracts them, while simultaneously consuming their liquidity—so when my companies list, they can't sabotage me, like by hammering my stock price."
Carson's pupils widened—not from Leo's cunning. He was used to that.
What shocked him was the phrase "several companies."
If Leo was serious, it meant more than one was about to list.