Leo was an extremely shrewd man. With a single glance, he pierced through Lawrence's false words.
Feigning disappointment, he said:
"Ah, then I must have misunderstood. I noticed you run a venture capital firm focused on technology, and thought you might be interested in these projects.
In that case, I won't disturb you, Lawrence. Tony, grab the wine—we're leaving."
Leo rose to his feet, ready to walk out.
Then came resistance—his arm was pulled back.
"Something else, Lawrence?"
Lawrence stared at this infuriating man, an unfamiliar sense of powerlessness welling up within him.
Since stepping into the world, he had always been the one manipulating others—when had he ever been manipulated? And twice, at that!
Silently chanting don't get angry, don't get angry, Lawrence forced himself to speak gently:
"Leaving so soon? That's too hasty. Besides, I haven't even finished the wine you brought.
And though I may not be interested in your business, why not tell me more? Perhaps I could introduce you to one or two powerful partners."
"That won't be necessary. The reason I came to you first was simply to show my apology. I don't lack partners in business."
Leo pried his arm free, smiling as he looked at Lawrence. The mirth in his eyes made Lawrence certain—Leo was teasing him.
Years of experience told Lawrence that in front of Leo, the Rockefeller aura was useless. Worse, it had become a weakness Leo enjoyed exploiting again and again.
Lawrence forced himself to strip away all emotions toward Leo. Once he regained his calm, his mind grew clear again.
"Leo, drop the act. You and I are the same kind of man—everything is a transaction. You wouldn't give money away out of apology.
So tell me—what price must I pay to join your new business?"
Lawrence said coolly.
The game was over. Naturally, Leo sat back down.
"I've got my eyes on the American Telephone and Telegraph Company."
"Impossible. Don't be fooled by the shares in my name—they belong to the Rockefeller family.
I cannot make any decision against the family's will. Our rules are clear: no decision is based on an individual, not even David or my father. The principle is this—the family cannot lose money.
To hand over the golden goose that lays eggs, just for some unknown venture of yours? That would be a grave betrayal. I cannot endure the punishment that would follow."
Lawrence's refusal was sharp and thorough. He knew that with a man like Leo, there was no point in beating around the bush.
"I don't want much. Just a ticket in. One percent—how about that?"
Leo pressed.
"The Rockefeller family only holds 4.5% in total."
Lawrence still refused.
"You just said the Rockefellers' will is to avoid loss. But what if our deal earns instead of loses? Wouldn't that make it easier to persuade your brothers?"
Leo smiled.
"It would help, yes. But I couldn't hand it all to you. AT&T's value isn't only profit—it's influence."
"Then I'll settle for 0.5%."
Leo said.
"And what do you offer in exchange?"
Lawrence straightened, secretly weighing whether this deal might be feasible.
"You've heard of my commercial computer company?"
Leo asked.
"The famous WLI? How could I not? Several of my firms are waiting in line for commercial computers.
That company is too low-key, far less visible than your other groups. Those not focused on tech often overlook it.
What—you want to trade that for AT&T shares?"
Lawrence asked skeptically.
"Why not? This year, my research company hit $400 million in revenue."
Leo replied.
"Don't exaggerate, Leo. We both know the market outlook isn't rosy. Sales are a problem.
Unless you plan to hand over the company itself, it's not worth 0.5% of AT&T."
Lawrence waved dismissively.
"Lawrence, you're the expert here. You should feel how quickly technology is advancing.
Who's to say WLI won't achieve miniaturization next year? Every time a computer shrinks to half its size, my market more than doubles. Institutions that already bought one are likely to buy again."
Leo's words unsettled Lawrence.
Had he known nothing of technology, he might have dismissed them as bluster. But he did know. He understood how fast technology moved—and with sufficient funding, theory often became reality at shocking speed.
So was Leo bluffing? Or had he really mastered miniaturization?
If Leo had the breakthrough, WLI could not be underestimated. At the very least, it could rival IBM.
After deep thought, Lawrence devised a cautious plan.
"Share swap is possible—but only if WLI goes public. At the roadshow, you must disclose your financials to confirm that $400 million revenue, and state clearly when miniaturization will be achieved."
Lawrence meant to have third parties verify everything.
"Listing isn't a problem—I'm already preparing for it. But Lawrence, once it's public, that 0.5% won't get you as many shares."
Leo warned.
"Better that than being tricked by you!"
Lawrence retorted.
"Fine. I respect your choice. Since we've reached consensus, let's wait until after the listing to finalize."
Leo stood to leave, only for Lawrence to grab his arm again.
"Lawrence, you seem very interested in my arm today."
Leo teased.
"I'm only interested in beautiful women. Leo, your new ventures are more than WLI. I've got other things I'd like to discuss—you can't leave just yet."
Leo understood perfectly—Lawrence wanted a piece of the tech pie. But Leo hadn't achieved his goal yet. He planned to apologize properly afterward.
"Lawrence, I get it. Once our deal is sealed, we'll talk more."
Leo left, leaving Lawrence with mixed feelings. He dared not gamble on WLI's future—if miniaturization was a lie, he'd be a Rockefeller traitor.
News exploded across America: the real estate tycoon was marching into technology, betting big on semiconductors and communications.
Leo also declared he would invest in any research institute or tech firm willing to move west.
This was his way of repaying California Governor Earl, who had supported him multiple times.
Earl, a seasoned politician, seized the chance. He rallied every interest group in California, passed tech-support bills, and boosted infrastructure for Stanford and the Valley.
Yet results were weak. Everyone was waiting to see—would Mr. Valentino truly deliver on his promises?
Earl called Leo for help. Leo, tied up with Goldman's Sidney over WLI's IPO, couldn't go himself. But he arranged for WLI to relocate its headquarters west.
At the same time, a bombshell hit Bell Labs. The entire physics division resigned.
Their leader, William Buckley, told reporters they were heading to Menlo Park, California—where a brand-new, well-equipped institute awaited them.
Asked about pay and equity, Buckley declared confidently:
"We bring the tech, Mr. Valentino brings the money. We hold 40% of the shares, and 40% of patent royalties."
Leo was already a media darling. This move lit a fire under America's tech migration westward.
Seeing Buckley succeed, countless scientists—and opportunists—rushed forward. They now had a new buyer: billionaire Leo Valentino.
In New York, Leo became the most sought-after man in science. Every day, besides Sidney, he met scientists of every stripe.
Of course, frauds came too. But with his knowledge of history, Leo was not easily fooled. The con men's final destination was the Atlantic—cement-shoe packages sinking to the seabed.
There were so many drownings that New York's crime rate briefly fell.
Yet the gems stood out. Leo found countless valuable projects tied to the future. Some scientists' names he didn't know—perhaps they'd become famous later, perhaps lack of funding had doomed them.
But Leo had a goal: to build a patent trust. For promising scientists, he poured in talent and funds without hesitation.
Soon, one-sixth of Menlo Park—his land—was filled with new institutes.
To unify their equity, Leo created the Valentino Science Management Company to oversee 30+ institutes.
In less than a week, he spent his largest sum since crossing into this world: $150 million in hard cash, excluding state subsidies and bank loans.
America was stunned again. Friend or foe, all had thought Leo was just bluffing scientists to inflate his land's value. Now they knew—he was deadly serious.
No one doubted his money-making power. His faith in tech drew friends to his side.
Sidney of Goldman watched as Augustus Morgan, Nelson Rockefeller, Lawrence Rockefeller, the Willard brothers of Altria, the Dulles brothers of United Fruit, Jesse Mortimer, George Bush, and other heirs and power players came one after another.
Then the arrival of Fed Chairman Mike Kay left Sidney utterly speechless.
So many gathered—and none wanted to leave. Leo finally organized a small salon at his mansion.
"Leo, do you really believe in semiconductors and information technology?"
Mike Kay asked first. Among those present, only he had the stature to open.
At once, all ears turned to Leo. Everyone wanted to know—what gave him the confidence to toss out $150 million?
"Of course. Many think my speech at the Scientific Progress Association was just about land. Then they're fools.
No need to look far. Five years ago, television and telephone transmission were worlds apart.
For science to thrive, universities must be the core, building a complete ecosystem of industry-academia-research.
Stanford is my choice—at the West's center, rich in academic resources, with a simple society free of the East's tangled interests.
Second, semiconductors and information are newborn industries, unbound by the East's industrial traditions. Everything can be built from zero."
Leo held nothing back. To build a new era's power, he needed many hands. Hiding knowledge would only stunt growth and risk collapse.
The salon lasted five full hours. Question after question came, and Leo's confident arguments and scientific vision convinced them all.
When they left, every face was smiling. Sidney, waiting outside all those hours, was tormented with curiosity.
His gut told him—if he knew even a fragment of that meeting, Goldman could make fortune after fortune.
Why? Because those inside commanded astronomical wealth. What they chose to build was bound to succeed.
But none betrayed a word. They only smiled politely at Sidney, dodging his questions.
For they all remembered Leo's parting words:
"About today's salon—until we reach our first-stage goals, keep it quiet. Every extra guest means one more slice of the pie.
Also, this salon can be held regularly, to discuss the future of the economy together.
If new members are to be added, I suggest a simple threshold—and let Mr. Mike Kay decide what that threshold should be."
Leo's meaning was clear. He had just elevated a casual gathering into a standing salon, placed it under the authority of the Fed Chairman, and wrapped it in prestige and protection.
The atmosphere was unmistakably elite.