Fortunately, Leo was no longer the kind of man who, if he refused, would have no choice but to go to war immediately.
On the power map of Virginia, Leo was now a man recognized by Senator Thomas.
"Thank you for thinking so highly of me, Mr. Mayor," Leo replied politely. "But my company is too small to handle such a large-scale renovation, let alone new construction."
Leo's sharp caution genuinely surprised Eamon.
This man in front of him was far too guarded—Lynchburg hadn't left him acting like a typical twenty-something at all.
He hadn't left Eamon a single opening.
"Senator Thomas's health isn't good. More critically, he has no political heir.
His cooperation with the lieutenant governor is just that—cooperation, not an alliance.
I'm sorry to say this, Leo, but you're missing your chance to invest in the future."
Eamon finished speaking and rose to leave.
His tone was gentle, but Leo clearly heard the naked threat in it.
Once Thomas was gone, Eamon would make Leo pay for today's "stupid" choice.
And despite being younger than Patrick, Eamon was on an entirely different level.
This was a man truly trained by a century-old political family.
If Leo weren't a man with memories of another life, serving Eamon wouldn't have been shameful at all—there were plenty across America who'd have lined up to do it.
But Leo was different.
Give Thomas five more years of life, and Leo could stand on equal footing with Eamon.
Give him ten years, and Eamon would be the one working for Leo.
So Leo didn't react at all to Eamon's attempt to leave.
Eamon got three steps away without hearing any attempt to stop him.
His eyes flashed with anger, but he quickly took a deep breath, controlled his expression, and smiled warmly again.
He turned back to Leo and said:
"Leo, it really is impressive how far you've come in such a short time.
When I was young, people used to call me a genius too.
But I have to admit—I wasn't as good as you.
You probably think I'm no different from that Patrick you dealt with before.
And I won't deny it.
But let me tell you a harsh truth: the player roster at Virginia's political table was finalized 80 years ago, after the Great Depression.
We can make a bet—without me, you won't even be able to keep your hotel, even with Thomas.
So if you ever plan to sell, please think of me first."
He came back over, speaking with deep, fatherly gravity.
Leo frowned. Honestly, Thomas had promised to introduce him to the Democratic Party a month ago.
But in that month, nothing had happened. Leo even suspected Thomas had gone on vacation to Hawaii to avoid him.
In Lynchburg, the class barrier hadn't felt that obvious.
But here in Richmond, Leo could feel it, solid and unyielding.
Even the big men within that barrier couldn't easily open it for him.
Seeing Leo lost in thought, Eamon finally let out a quiet breath of relief.
He'd actually worried Leo was completely unshakable.
"Looks like I was right," Eamon said softly. "You've thought about this too.
So? Want to agree to my terms?"
Eamon thought Leo was scared now.
But the truth was Leo wasn't shaken by fear—he was realizing he'd underestimated just how deeply entrenched class solidification was on the East Coast.
He didn't remember every detail from his previous life perfectly, but he did recall some scattered fragments.
The East Coast had more universities, more talent, more technological reserves.
They'd even invented the computer and developed the early internet.
Yet it was the West Coast—and sometimes the South—that had birthed the computer revolution and the internet revolution.
Leo was thinking: Maybe starting on the East Coast had been giving myself hard mode all along.
A vague idea was forming in his mind: maybe it was time to consider shifting some of his operations elsewhere.
So if things went truly badly here, he'd have an escape route.
But now wasn't the time to think that through in detail.
He looked at the still-earnest Eamon and genuinely admired the man.
That relentless determination to achieve his goals—willing to lower himself again and again—would make him an exceptionally dangerous enemy.
But sell the hotel?
Not a chance.
"Five percent. The East District municipal renovations. I don't need any new housing contracts," Leo said calmly.
That wasn't even a bluff.
Right now the housing market demand was so strong that even his brand-new company, with no real name in Richmond yet, had more work than it could handle.
Joseph was so busy managing orders he hadn't even had time to attend tonight's grand opening.
"Don't be so stingy. Ten percent."
Seeing Leo finally give a little, Eamon felt a brief surge of frustration that he couldn't force him all the way.
But even getting a stake was a good start.
Five percent, though—that was too little for Eamon's liking.
"I'm sorry. Your share can't exceed that of the Lieutenant Governor's," Leo replied coolly.
"Then nine percent," Eamon said sharply.
It was clear he'd done his homework before coming here.
"Very well. Lynchburg Hotel welcomes you as a partner."
Their hands clasped. Eamon held tight, still unwilling to give up entirely.
"If you ever decide to sell, let me know first.
And don't forget our other agreement—you have two weeks."
Down in one of the lounge booths, Herbert was watching the VIP balcony with Eddie.
"Isn't that Mayor Eamon up there?" Herbert remarked.
"How the hell did they end up talking together?" Eddie muttered irritably.
"I told you, this Leo knows how to seize every opportunity.
The longer you leave him alone, the more connections he'll build.
If you wait too long, he'll be even harder to get rid of," Herbert said.
Eddie's face darkened.
"I didn't move against him? The men my father spent years cultivating were all wiped out in a single night!
Don't pretend you're so smart, Herbert.
Your crap intel got me disowned by my father.
When I did move, where the hell were you?"
Eddie was furious. He no longer wanted to work with Herbert at all.
But Herbert could see Eddie's disdain.
He had an ace up his sleeve.
"I'm truly sorry," Herbert said sincerely. "In my original plan, I thought the gangs would stall his progress.
The Declan collapse took me by surprise.
But it's fine.
You were wondering what I was doing while I was gone?
Wallace! Over here!"
He called out to a middle-aged man in the dance area, who was watching the exotic dancers with rapt attention.
This man had a distinctly artistic vibe, with long hair and a tailored, cinched suit.
To Eddie, he looked a little flamboyant.
"Eddie Holt, board member of Richmond's Londo Construction Company.
Eddie, you've probably heard of this man—America's famous architect Wallace Neff.
He designed what's widely considered the most beautiful mansion in Southern California for Hollywood's Frederick March and Florence Eldridge!"
Eddie stood up immediately. As a Hollywood buff, of course he knew Frederick March.
And he'd heard of Neff's reputation too—a lot of his friends had hired Neff to design their estates.
After some polite introductions, Eddie turned to Herbert.
"So you want to beat Leo in the high-end residential market?
Except—he doesn't even seem to be doing luxury homes.
And right now, public housing and municipal contracts are what's hot.
The state government's starting to pump out huge funding for those."
Eddie wasn't just some clueless second-generation rich kid—he was also a board member of a century-old construction firm.
Herbert smiled confidently.
"Of course I know that.
I've heard Leo's orders are booming because he can build a new house in a month, which is really attractive.
But now that Wallace is here? Two days.
Two days, and people will be living in their dream homes!
Then it won't just be little Leo's market.
We'll have business across the entire United States.
You'll be Eddie the Real Estate Tycoon.
The Governor himself will be proud of you."