In addition to senior French officials, Daniel, the American ambassador, was among those greeting Leo.
Ordinarily, an ambassador would not appear at such an occasion unless the President or Secretary of State were present, but Daniel's attendance—and his evident closeness with Leo—made many French dignitaries reconsider the man before them.
To those unfamiliar with Leo, Daniel's behavior suggested he was not merely a diplomat, but a long-serving subordinate.
Many French officials silently raised their estimation of Leo's power another notch.
Leo's visit stirred up more than diplomatic ceremony. As the true controller of the European Broadcasting Union, his arrival unleashed a media storm across France.
Every major outlet praised him as the world's richest man bringing immense investment opportunities to France.
Ordinary citizens followed the excitement, hoping that Leo's investments would somehow benefit their own lives.
European capitalists were filled with anticipation, eager to see his fortune raise their enterprises to new heights.
Politicians, however, coveted Leo's vast media resources—tools that could determine whether one rose to power or fell from grace.
But France's true power brokers sought something deeper.
In a secluded estate in Barbizon, surrounded by forested hills, Vincent Auriol introduced Leo to West Germany's Chancellor, Konrad Adenauer.
It was a private, high-level meeting. Grace Kelly, exhausted from the long flight, had been left in Paris to rest.
Watching Auriol and Adenauer's cordial exchange, Leo could hardly believe they had ever been strangers before becoming leaders of their nations.
He recalled reading years ago that France's swift surrender during the war had allowed its capitalists to merge quickly with Germany's non-Nazi industrial elite—laying the groundwork for reconciliation and, eventually, the European Union.
What had once seemed a far-fetched theory now appeared before Leo's very eyes.
When the dinner began, Auriol and Adenauer launched into a carefully crafted dialogue.
Auriol first thanked Leo for his role in safeguarding France's Southeast Asian interests, then shifted the topic to the success of the Belgium–Netherlands–Luxembourg Customs Union, again expressing gratitude for Leo's crucial support.
Raising his glass, Adenauer followed:
"Mr. Valentino, the peoples of the three nations owe you their thanks. I must beg your indulgence today—we have a request, one we hope you'll hear."
Though the setting was private, the matter had already been discussed many times through intermediaries.
Such diplomacy was necessary; at their level, open conflict carried immense risks.
Leo knew what was coming, but courtesy demanded the ritual.
He rose, clinking glasses with Adenauer.
"The United States and Europe are interdependent," he said smoothly. "As a responsible citizen of my nation, I have the duty to assist the peoples of Europe. Tell me your needs, Chancellor—if it can be done, I will do my best."
The statement was elegant, a diplomatic promise veiled in reassurance: cooperation was assured.
Auriol smiled and raised his own glass. "Before we proceed, we've invited an expert to explain our proposal in detail."
At his signal, the secretary opened the door.
"Mr. Schuman, please present your plan to Mr. Valentino."
Seeing the man enter, Leo's eyes gleamed.
They thought him a pro-European ally, but in truth Leo had long known how to use foresight to his advantage. His support for the customs union had been calculated bait, not altruism.
They believed they were fishing for him—but it was Leo who held the line.
His purpose went far beyond profit; he was quietly preparing resources for the decisive battles that lay ahead.
Leo knew every detail of the Schuman Plan—his "golden memory" had replayed the event countless times. The Franco-German Coal and Steel Community would become the cornerstone of a united Europe.
When Schuman finished, Auriol and Adenauer turned eagerly toward Leo, waiting for his verdict.
Leo nodded slowly. "Alsace-Lorraine and the Ruhr have always been at the heart of Franco-German rivalry. Mr. Schuman's idea—joint management of coal and steel—is brilliant. It removes the very root of centuries of hatred."
Adenauer laughed in admiration. "No wonder you became the richest man in the world. When I first heard the proposal, I was lost for words."
Leo smiled faintly. He knew the German Chancellor was far too clever to have misunderstood anything. This was flattery—pure and deliberate.
"Consider it done," Leo said simply.
Auriol and Adenauer exchanged a look of relief, then toasted him repeatedly.
When the excitement subsided, Auriol leaned forward. "That's wonderful news, Mr. Valentino. But what comes next? Should we proceed as we did with the previous customs union?"
Leo glanced at him. "That case was simple—their interests were limited, and we could dominate easily. But between France and Germany, too many stakeholders are involved. If they oppose you, your plans will stall."
Both leaders nodded gravely. That was precisely why they had invited him.
The capital forces behind them bore the marks of American influence—marks too deep for them to erase. Yet Leo, as the master of those very forces, could help them reconcile the impossible.
"Mr. Valentino," said Adenauer directly, "you have our mandate. What do you need?"
Leo smiled faintly. "Control of this system must not rest in government hands."
"We understand."
Both men knew that well. Even without Leo's insistence, their backers had drawn that red line long ago.
"I'll take a share of the interests," Leo continued, "but the scale of this project is vast. I can't make it succeed alone. I'll need two or three key partners. Give me time to coordinate, and prepare your investors—they'll have to concede far more than they expect."
Auriol and Adenauer frowned. "How much?"
"Half," Leo said calmly.
The room fell silent.
After a long pause, Adenauer sighed. "That will require serious negotiation."
"Tell them this," Leo said meaningfully. "If they want to move toward their grander vision, this step is the foundation."
Both men stiffened. Auriol feigned confusion. "I'm not sure I follow."
"Don't pretend," Leo said softly. "You intend to forge Europe into one body—call it the European Community, or whatever name you've chosen."
The color drained from their faces.
How could he possibly know?
The project was known only to a handful of the most trusted insiders. Had someone leaked it? Or was his intelligence network already that powerful?
Leo's smile deepened. "Don't waste time guessing. You've underestimated how many clever people walk this earth. The customs union, the coal and steel community—these are only the beginning.
"But remember: if you refuse, the number of people who know about your dream will no longer be so few."
The quiet threat struck home. Both men realized the stakes—premature exposure would destroy everything.
Auriol forced a polite smile. "Mr. Valentino, give us one night. By tomorrow, we'll give you a satisfactory answer. And… we've prepared a special gift for you. We hope you'll enjoy it."
They bowed slightly and withdrew.
Later, Leo was escorted to the main chamber of the estate. Not long after he sat down, a knock came at the door.
"Come in," he said.
Two young women entered, dressed in ornate Rococo gowns from the era of Louis XV, their beauty striking under the dim golden light.
One had deep green eyes and a proud, mysterious air—a rose in full bloom, alluring and dangerous.
The other was fair and delicate, with soft features and a quiet grace that evoked innocence and melancholy.
Leo could tell they came from noble families. Gifts, chosen carefully.
He rose politely, greeting them with the charm of a gentleman rather than the hunger of a conqueror. To him, this was not love, but diplomacy by other means.
The two girls, though nervous, had been raised to understand duty and obedience. They offered courtesy, not affection.
Later that night, when the estate grew quiet and the moonlight slipped through the curtains, Leo sat alone by the window, watching the lights of Paris in the distance.
For a long time, he said nothing.
The roses of France were beautiful, but in his eyes, they were symbols of something greater—Europe's old nobility offering itself to a new kind of power.
He smiled faintly. "History always repeats itself," he murmured. "Only the players change."
As dawn broke, Leo rose and prepared for the next round of negotiations.