To Alfred's disappointment, Leo was no longer in Washington.
Through the family intelligence network, Alfred learned that Leo had gone to New York.
"A generation of tycoons that doesn't know how to enjoy life,"
he muttered with disdain. Alfred disapproved of Leo's constant travels and busyness. He also knew that this trip to Washington would not grant him the meeting he wanted.
Officially, he had come to see Truman — but in truth, Leo was the man he wished to meet. Truman was merely the excuse. Yet if he chased Leo all the way to New York now, it would appear too desperate — and that would harm his long-term position in the coming struggle.
So Alfred called Robert in New York.
"How are things progressing on your side? I heard Leo's gone to New York — be careful. If there's an appropriate occasion, meet him. None of us have ever seen this enemy in person. You'll be our eyes and ears."
Robert's voice came through, confident and steady.
"Mr. DuPont, things are going smoothly. I've already made contact with Mr. John Stillman. They're preparing a meeting to respond to the customs union formed by the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and Brussels — all backed by Leo.
Mr. Stillman promised me they'll discuss securing the right to issue loans to France during the meeting.
However, I haven't seen that 'world's richest man' these past two days.
From my observations, he doesn't seem to be taking active steps to sabotage the meeting — even though it could significantly hurt his interests.
Mr. Stillman looks worried, though. He fears that at some critical moment, the world's richest man might suddenly strike.
But as of now, everything seems stable. The meeting is scheduled for tomorrow."
Listening to Robert's report, Alfred could sense the fear in John Stillman's heart.
"It seems those Wall Street hyenas have suffered quite a few losses at Valentino's hands. Be cautious, Robert. I have a feeling that Mr. Valentino will appear at tomorrow's meeting."
The next morning, luxury cars filled the entrance of the Waldorf Hotel.
Chairmen and CEOs from Wall Street's top investment banks and commercial banks arrived one after another.
But as they approached the reserved conference room, surprise spread across their faces — for sitting in the host's chair was none other than Mr. Samuel himself, long absent from public view.
Samuel's appearance was easy to explain: he had predicted that Leo might try to divide this financial bloc. John alone couldn't suppress the ambitions Leo had stirred among the others. Samuel's presence was meant to intimidate — his sheer influence might be enough to make the restless ones behave.
Yet Samuel underestimated Leo.
Just as the meeting was about to begin, Leo walked through the door.
John Stillman, startled, blurted out:
"Mr. Valentino, I don't recall inviting you. What brings you here?"
"I invited him," came Jack Morgan's calm reply.
John turned in disbelief toward Jack — in his understanding, the Morgan family's relationship with Leo had always been tense.
"What? Am I not qualified to do so?" Jack asked coldly.
John quickly lowered his tone.
"Of course you are, Jack. But this is my meeting after all… perhaps a heads-up would've been nice."
He dared not confront Jack directly.
At that moment, Samuel spoke up.
Facing the elder statesman — nearly of J.P. Morgan's generation — Jack showed due respect.
"My mistake," he said simply.
That was the Morgan family's power — for any other house, such a light apology would have spelled their destruction. But from a Morgan, it was enough.
"Then let's begin," Samuel said darkly, his eyes fixed on Leo. A sense of foreboding filled him — the Morgans, he realized, were already under Leo's sway.
John Stillman rose to speak:
"Gentlemen of Wall Street, as you know, major developments are underway in Europe. Belgium, Luxembourg, and the Netherlands have formed a customs union.
This threatens our financial control over these nations and undermines Wall Street's overall interests.
I propose we unite to disrupt this customs union."
Leo chuckled.
"I'm not so sure, John. If the customs union's tax assessment work is entrusted to our Wall Street firms, I see no harm done.
In fact, if the governments of these three countries outsource their auditing and fiscal operations to Wall Street specialists, many firms might not lose money at all — they might profit handsomely."
"Mr. Valentino," John snapped, "don't say 'we on Wall Street.' You're not one of us."
"John, that's not quite right," came a voice from across the room.
It was Robert Lehman — once the president of Lehman Brothers, now firmly under Leo's banner.
"Mr. Valentino is the chairman of the World United Investment Bank. Of course he's one of us.
If he weren't, would he have awarded the management of the customs union to Merrill Lynch, Morgan Stanley, and Goldman Sachs?
That's real money flowing into our accounts, John."
John glared at the man he once dismissed as a clown — now hiding behind Leo's power, emboldened to speak out.
The realization hit him hard: no wonder the room had been cold when he proposed sabotaging the customs union. Several major banks and investment firms were already in Leo's pocket. The man had bought them — and even shared profits to win loyalty.
As John stood speechless, Samuel's gaze swept across the room. Wherever his eyes landed, the heads of mid-tier banks bowed, avoiding his stare.
A heavy sigh escaped him. Today's meeting was doomed. Worse still, his family's reputation — and his own — would suffer.
Leo smiled faintly at Samuel. It was their first meeting. As for John, Leo barely spared him a glance except when necessary.
"Mr. Samuel, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.
It seems most here support me, so I won't take more of your time.
Since the consensus is not to oppose the customs union, I'll take my leave.
Gentlemen — you won't regret supporting me today."
With that, Leo walked out. Jack Morgan rose and followed him.
Once they were gone, several others stepped forward to apologize briefly to Samuel — and then left. Within minutes, the room was nearly empty.
Samuel sat motionless, his face as dark as storm clouds.
But the one who felt even more humiliated was Robert, who had attended on behalf of Alfred DuPont. Returning to his hotel, he called Alfred and said bitterly:
"Sir, we'll have to rely on ourselves. The Jews — as always — are unreliable."
The meeting had collapsed anticlimactically. Soon, Will gathered further intelligence and reported it to Samuel and John Stillman.
"Several mid-sized investment houses gave in," Will said.
"They didn't receive any lucrative customs-union contracts. They were simply threatened and bribed.
According to them, Robert Lehman arranged payments through an offshore tax-evasion network — totaling $200 million.
Those who refused were threatened that if they didn't comply, they'd 'end up like the Stillmans' — and their hidden assets would vanish."
"And the $200 million used to buy them off," Will added grimly,
"I have reason to believe that's the same money missing from Citibank's tax-avoidance network."
John exploded.
"So he robbed us — and used our own money to buy our friends!"
Samuel said nothing for a long time. He had already suspected as much. What concerned him more was why the Morgans had sided with Leo.
"The Morgans and Valentino have never been on good terms. Just months ago, they were paying journalists to attack him. Why the sudden alliance?"
Will replied:
"Augustus Morgan's European business is deeply tied to Leo. Not long ago, he returned home for talks. Since then, Jack Morgan's attitude has changed.
Roland Morgan told me Leo granted the Morgan Group not only leadership over the customs-union operations but also first rights to acquire French defense industries.
And apparently, Jack was furious at MacArthur's warmongering.
But don't worry, sir — Roland says it's only a temporary alliance. Jack still resents Leo."
Samuel snorted.
"Heh. They think they're still J.P. Morgan, acting like they are America itself.
What about the Rockefellers? Young John Rockefeller hasn't made a move? Their family's had their share of losses against Leo too."
"Nothing yet. In fact, Laurence Rockefeller's been getting close to Leo recently. No one knows what they're discussing."
Samuel frowned deeply. Between Augustus Morgan, Laurence Rockefeller, and the numerous mid-tier firms now orbiting Leo's influence, the young man — in less than six years — had become part of the very fabric of Wall Street.
And having just given away stock from the San Francisco Federal Reserve, Samuel knew: defeating Valentino had just become exponentially harder.
"What should we do, sir?" John Stillman asked, despair creeping into his tone.
"He's too powerful."
"There's talk that the world's richest man is heading to Europe," Samuel said.
"Use every contact we have. Find out what he's planning there."
"Understood. If I find out, I won't let him succeed," John vowed.
"No," Samuel replied coldly. "Disruption isn't enough.
If we want to win, we can't follow his rhythm. I suspect his European trip is linked to this customs-union matter.
Go to Britain. The British won't welcome a united continental Europe.
We must lure him into our battlefield, not his."
After John departed, Samuel turned to his old friend Will.
"We still need powerful allies. The Morgans are unreliable.
Go to young John Rockefeller — he's greedy enough.
With Leo's fortune and the Far Eastern interests at stake, there's no way he won't be tempted."
That night, John Stillman boarded a plane to Europe.
Meanwhile, at the foot of the Statue of Liberty, Grace Kelly's film crew was shooting a love story starring Kelly and the rising star Marlon Brando.
When the director announced that production would pause for a few days while Kelly traveled to Europe, no one protested — everyone knew her background.
Even if she vanished for a week, no one dared complain if they wanted to keep their jobs. The producer assured them pay would continue, which calmed most nerves.
All except Marlon Brando.
Recently signed for his next film, he erupted in anger when he learned of the delay. The producer tried appeasement with extra pay, but Brando refused — escalating until Grace herself apologized in person.
Then, in front of the stunned crew, he sneered:
"I'll only agree if Grace Kelly sleeps with me."
The set went dead silent. Everyone could already imagine his fate.
The producer called the studio that night, demanding Brando's removal. When asked why, the director said bluntly:
"Because this actor might not leave New York alive."
Leo learned of it through Grace Kelly herself.
Though he admired Brando's future portrayal of The Godfather, Leo — a man who prized responsibility and family — despised Brando the person: a selfish, degenerate fool.
Now that this fool had dared insult him through Grace, Leo decided to send him a "Deep Atlantic Package."
Leo and Grace boarded his private jet to Paris. As gratitude for helping her handle the matter, Leo unlocked another… "achievement" in the skies.
That same night, Joseph led men to seize all film footage containing Brando.
Drunk and swaggering, Brando was taken away by a car — and vanished from the face of the earth.
When Leo landed at Paris Orly Airport, news broke:
The U.S. Senate had approved a proposal to fund France's war in Vietnam. Five thousand U.S. troops would be sent, along with $600 million in military loans.
Truman signed it immediately.
With that stroke of a pen, the entire anti-Leo coalition — the Jewish financial bloc led by Samuel and Stillman, and the military-industrial faction led by the DuPonts — had suffered complete defeat before the Far East war even began.
The loan operation was managed by Thomas's committee. As expected, Bank of America and Wells Fargo took the deal, while Brown Brothers Harriman handled the logistics.
Leo, at last, understood what it meant to be too big to fall.
And with his foresight — his greatest "bug" — defeating him had become nearly impossible.
When he stepped off the plane, the sight awaiting him confirmed his dominance:
French President Vincent Auriol himself, along with senior government officials, was there to greet him.
He recalled his first trip to Europe — when he had some power in Italy and the Netherlands, but only as a proxy under Marshall and Truman's favor.
Now things were different.
The leaders of Europe no longer saw him as an emissary.
Especially Vincent Auriol — with full intelligence on America's latest power shifts — knew one truth:
The victor, the one who keeps winning, deserves the highest respect.