"We should fight back! We own 20% of the shares — they can't stop us from entering the lumber yard!"
The workers started shouting all at once, and the scene quickly spiraled out of control.
"Silence!"
Leo roared, and the vicious glint in his eyes instantly quieted the crowd.
"What happened next?" he asked.
John's expression was complicated as he said, "There were rumors that the Environmental Protection Act was Michael's scheme. He wanted to reclaim the 20% of shares. Everyone in town knows that the majority of the town council — the so-called Seven Elders — are Michael's close friends. His so-called objection to the law was nothing more than theater."
"We consulted a lawyer. The original shareholder agreement clearly states that if the nature of the lumber yard changes, union workers wishing to sell their shares must first offer them back to the Brown family. So by shutting us out of work, he's forcing us to sell our shares back to him at a low price."
"At first, we didn't think much of it... until Derry brought in Carlo. He gave us all kinds of advice. We just didn't expect that he would... sigh."
Ricardo trailed off. He had treated Carlo like a son. Now, he was torn with mixed emotions.
Leo now understood most of the situation, but some key pieces were still missing.
"Who was the first person to spread that rumor?" Leo asked.
The crowd fell silent.
From their expressions, Leo already knew the answer — they had heard it from Derry.
"You seriously believed Derry?"
Leo continued, "Has anyone here actually seen Michael these past few months?"
Everyone shook their heads.
"So let me get this straight — all you know is that Michael voted against the bill in the council, and everything else you've acted on is based on rumors from Derry?"
Noticing Leo's slightly contemptuous tone, some workers grew defensive.
"Hey, Leo! We're not idiots," one retorted. "We discussed it. We think it's Michael's son behind all of this. Ever since he came back from the city, he's been going around talking about reclaiming the 20% shares."
Once someone spoke up, the crowd began chiming in again, voices rising.
Although the events of today had convinced them Carlo had his own agenda, this crowd was simple-minded, hot-blooded, and stubborn. They still believed their judgment was right.
Leo decided it was pointless to keep arguing. He walked straight over to the now-conscious Derry and delivered a powerful punch to his already-swollen face.
As an expert in enhanced interrogation, Leo knew just how to maximize pain without causing unconsciousness.
Seeing Leo raise his fist again, Derry shrieked in fear, "Please! I'll talk!"
"Derry, I need you to answer me honestly. How did you meet Carlo?"
"The Worker's Home gambling den — that's where we met."
Leo frowned. He had thought Carlo ran his own casino.
"Why did you spread the rumor that Michael was trying to reclaim the shares?"
"I didn't spread lies, and I didn't get paid for it either! I heard it from Rock — he's the president of the Agricultural Association. After the bill passed, he said it at the table. I'm a worker too, I thought it was my duty to pass it on."
Leo scrutinized Derry carefully — his eyes were clear in that uniquely stupid way. He was telling the truth.
Leo inhaled sharply. Something didn't add up.
Rock Meyer, the president of the Agricultural Association, was a Jewish man who came to Lynchburg after the Great Depression. With ties to Wall Street, he quickly became a major player in the local grain market.
Leo had met him — an old-fashioned snob who carried a walking stick and looked down his nose at everyone.
A man like that playing dollar games at "The Worker's Home"? And coincidentally spilling critical information to someone like Derry?
Impossible.
Leo closed his eyes and reassembled all the details in his mind:
Turner the outsider thief.
Out-of-town labor at the lumber yard.
Carlo switching from suit to work clothes overnight.
Derry's staged drama.
The $10,000 setup.
Rock Meyer personally stepping in.
Michael's mysterious disappearance.
Jack's sudden return from Richmond.
The flurry of new orders.
The unexpected legislation.
All these scattered pieces pointed to one thing: someone was orchestrating a major scheme against the Brown Lumber Company.
And Carlo? He was just an opportunistic pawn trying to profit off someone else's operation.
Compared to the mastermind behind this, the setup at Leo's house was child's play.
The mastermind had carefully driven a wedge between Michael and the workers, using rumors and manipulation — a true professional.
Leo wasn't the police. He didn't need proof. His suspicions were enough.
Whoever this mastermind was, they had enough influence to arrange large contracts out of Richmond.
And now that they were so close to sealing the deal, if Leo interfered...
"To cut off someone's fortune is to invite their vengeance," he thought grimly.
He was no longer paralyzed by PTSD. His reason was in full control.
He turned to look at the crowd gathering around, their expressions smug — as if to say, "See? You couldn't even get anything useful out of Derry."
Their confident, ignorant faces disgusted him. And now that his relationship with Emily had been exposed by Carlo, whatever moral high ground he once had was gone.
Leo decided to respect other people's choices. No more playing savior.
If someone's hell-bent on walking into ruin, there's no point stopping them — especially not when he had a $10,000 windfall in his pocket. Time to cut losses.
Emily and the Brown family might be an issue, but Leo was confident: even with these historical hiccups, the overall trajectory of history wouldn't change. Even if he couldn't become a tycoon, he could at least afford to keep the Browns fed.
Resolved, Leo gave Sean a signal and the two of them stepped outside. If this wasn't his problem anymore, then it was time to focus on making money.
Inside the house, Ricardo pulled out a document and handed it to John.
"These are the 20% shares. I'm transferring them to you now, John."
"Ricardo, I—"
Ricardo waved off his protest.
Thanks to Leo's money, the family's immediate crisis was resolved. Things might be tough, but he could always find odd jobs. At least that was better than compromising his conscience.
Being a union leader wasn't worth it anymore.