Leo's words froze the two men who had been about to rise from the hot spring.
Greco stared at him in disbelief. It was the first time he had ever seen Leo in such a state.
Langer, trembling slightly, stammered:
"Mr. Valentino, are you threatening us?"
"No, no, no. This is not a threat. As a friend, I've laid my entire plan bare before you.
All I ask is that, as my friends, you extend your hand when I need it—and right now, I do.
This isn't coercion. It's simply an exchange: I'll swap those worthless stocks Mr. Greco mentioned earlier for your Wells Fargo shares. Believe me, I hold plenty of such junk, but I won't use them.
What I'm offering you is real value—Bank of America stock. We can go strictly by your appraisal firms' valuations. As long as it's not outrageous, I'll accept.
Like I've said, I came West to make friends, not enemies. You agreed to build factories with me and profited from it. To me, that meant you accepted our friendship.
So treat me as a friend, Mr. Wells, Mr. Fargo.
In my dictionary, there are only friends and enemies—no third category. And I don't think you'd want to become my enemies. Or, to be more blunt—you don't even qualify to be my enemies."
Leo's tone was calm, but beneath it ran a chill that could not be ignored.
Langer and Greco exchanged glances again and again.
The first glance asked: Should we try to leave? But they dared not.
The second asked: Should we agree?
They thought of the fortune they had made alongside Leo—and of how much more might come. Bank of America shares were clearly more valuable than Wells Fargo's.
The third glance said: We can agree, but only if there's a guarantee.
"Mr. Valentino," Greco said cautiously, "of course we want to be your friends. But the Wells and Fargo families were founders of Wells Fargo.
If we turned to Bank of America, it would deal a huge blow to Wells Fargo. And our families have been bound to Wells Fargo for generations—it's not something we can easily cut apart."
"Yes," Langer added. "Our forefathers built their fortune on Wells Fargo. We can't just sever ourselves from it."
Their words sounded like refusal, but Leo understood perfectly. The issue wasn't that their Wells Fargo shares were inseparable—no one could take those shares if they didn't want to give them up.
Their real concern was security. In Bank of America, they feared Leo might one day strip them of their stake, leaving them rootless.
Leo leaned back.
"I may be repeating myself for the third time today, but I'll say it again: I came West to make friends, not enemies.
If contracts alone don't give you peace of mind, then perhaps in the future we should bind our interests in another way. A stronger way.
And we can swear by God's name on it. As you know, I already have two sons and a daughter."
Marriage alliances—the most time-tested method of binding great families. Leo would not miss the chance.
The Wells and Fargo clans themselves had grown inseparable thanks to generations of intermarriage. By their time, the two were practically one family. Now was the moment to bring in new blood.
Leo's pledge to put it in writing, coupled with the prospect of marriage ties, was a tremendous boon. Both families were eager for such an opportunity.
When Leo first hinted at it, the two exchanged nervous looks. But his final words reassured them.
So young, and already two sons and a daughter—more than enough to go around. And surely Leo would have more children in the future.
After a fourth exchange of glances, Langer spoke on behalf of both families:
"Mr. Valentino, we agree to the share exchange."
"How much do you hold?" Leo asked.
"Together, our families hold 47% of Wells Fargo," Langer replied.
"And the Hellman family—the so-called current controllers—how much do they have?" Leo pressed.
"Mr. Valentino, that wording isn't quite right," Langer explained. "The current president of Wells Fargo doesn't own as much as you might think.
We brought them in years ago because they could modernize our management. Under our families, Wells Fargo's operations were declining. For the bank's future, we accepted an outsider family.
And they've done well—through three generations, they've grown Wells Fargo.
But while the Hellmans have tried hard to buy in, they only hold 27% today. They are merely the largest single family shareholder.
The Fargos hold 22%. The Wells family, 25%. So tell us—how much do you want? Can you leave us some? After all, Wells Fargo is where our family fortunes began."
Leo laughed.
"I'm not unreasonable. I don't need much—just more than the Hellmans. They have 27%. I'll take 31%."
Greco thought a moment.
"Mr. Valentino, could we each keep 10%?"
Leo frowned. His displeasure was clear.
"That would only give me 27%—equal to the Hellmans."
"There are other shareholders," Langer suggested quickly. "We could introduce you."
"That would take time. Too much time—and I can't risk news leaking," Leo countered.
"It won't," Greco assured him. "Many families soaking in the other baths also hold Wells Fargo shares. The question is only how much.
They were among the original founders too. Over the years, families came and went, shares shifting. But the core remained.
And their holdings are smaller, easier to part with. If they can trade them for Bank of America stock, they'll leap at it. Everyone knows BOA is worth more."
"Then what are we waiting for? Draft the contracts," Leo ordered, rising from the spring and striding out.
Just as Langer promised, the deals went smoothly. Those minor families had long dreamed of catching Leo's coattails. With BOA shares on the table, who could refuse?
Most kept a little Wells Fargo stock, just in case. But one shareholder, Whitner, summed it up best:
"Hellman has done well. But if Mr. Valentino takes the helm, Wells Fargo will soar higher still. After all, who doesn't see him as a god of wealth?"
In total, Leo secured 8% more shares—far more than expected. He now held 35% of Wells Fargo, making him the largest shareholder.
And all he had given up was 16% of Bank of America—far from enough to shake his control there.
But no secret stays hidden forever. Word spread quickly that Leo was targeting Wells Fargo.
Most in the West treated it as gossip. But to Theus W. Hellman III, Wells Fargo's current leader, it was a dire threat. He knew Leo was no opponent he could handle.
His only hope was to keep Leo out entirely, never allowing him a foothold. Otherwise, Leo would eat away at Wells Fargo bit by bit.
So he moved fast—calling a board meeting to rally the shareholders.
At Wells Fargo's San Francisco headquarters, every arriving shareholder was met with Hellman's effusive embrace and warm chatter.
He reminisced about how the Hellmans had brought the bank to new heights. But worry furrowed his brow.
Two faces were missing—Langer Wells and Greco Fargo.
The rumor mill was full of whispers: that both families had made a fortune with Leo, that they had already traded away their Wells Fargo shares.
Hellman feared the rumors were true. His eyes never left the door.
Then, at last, it opened. Langer Wells and Greco Fargo entered side by side, as inseparable as always.
Relief washed over Hellman. They had come. The rumors were false. These families would not betray their ancestral legacy.
With confidence restored, Hellman took his chairman's seat and addressed the room:
"Since nearly everyone is here, let's begin.
I've called this urgent meeting because of dangerous rumors. I'm sure you've heard them—that Valentino, that reckless Easterner, has set his sights on Wells Fargo.
He's no friend. In the East, he devoured wealth until he was hated everywhere. When he could no longer survive there, he fled West to disrupt our peace.
And the most vicious rumor of all—that two of our most important shareholders would betray us for a few favors.
But here they are today. Proof the rumors are false! Wells Fargo remains strong. United, we will never be shaken—not by Wall Street, not by the so-called Son of American Business.
Isn't that right, Mr. Wells? Mr. Fargo?"
His speech was fiery, but his gaze never left them.
"No," they answered in unison.
Hellman laughed—then froze. "Wait. What did you just say?"
"What do you mean by this?" he demanded.
Before he could press further, Langer Wells rose. He swept the room with his eyes and declared:
"I admit—the Hellmans saved Wells Fargo in its time of crisis. And they led it to great heights. But history is past. We live in the present.
Under Mr. Hellman, Wells Fargo has stagnated for five years. Meanwhile, our rival Bank of America has pulled far ahead.
We all know their valuations, even without being listed.
As for Mr. Hellman's accusations against Mr. Valentino—they sound like sour grapes to me. A man with no friends? Then how did he help the unpopular Truman become president? How did he take five companies public on the NYSE at once?
And here in the West, he hasn't robbed us. He's brought us national housing funds, science grants—benefits we would never have had without him.
And yes, I profited by working with him. I won't deny it. But he's earned his title—God of Business.
With him, Wells Fargo will rise again.
In the early 1900s, choosing the Hellmans was right. But today, they cannot lead us further. It is time for a new choice.
So I apologize—to all of you, and to Mr. Hellman. We are not planning to ally with Mr. Valentino. We already have.
And today's board meeting, without the participation of Wells Fargo's largest shareholder—holder of 35%—has no legal effect whatsoever."
With that, Langer strode to the door and opened it.
Every head turned.
And in walked Leo Valentino, smiling.