The path of entrepreneurship is like an uneven boxing match—a featherweight challenger facing a heavyweight champion. Only through agility and precise timing can the underdog dodge the flurry of heavy blows and find a fleeting opening to land a strike that counts.
Miss once, and you must vanish into the shadows again, bide your time, and wait. Over and over.
A new business is fragile. Unity is critical. Any fracture in the core will make progress nearly impossible.
This is not only the essence of entrepreneurship—it is the wisdom of survival.
As the commander of a special operations unit, Leo had long understood the absolute necessity of authority for a team's survival. In the perilous jungles of war, any argument or disagreement could cost lives. That's why his squad had only one brain—Leo Valentino.
Today, whether it was Joseph inviting strangers without permission or Desmond cutting in without warning, both had unknowingly shaken Leo's leadership and threatened team stability. A single crack in the foundation makes the climb infinitely harder.
Business is war. That's not just a saying.
With a competitor already in play, Leo knew that accumulating wealth quietly was no longer realistic. Time was money, and he needed to act fast—to enforce discipline and unity.
Now that authority had been reestablished, it was time to soften, to unify.
Leo picked up a newspaper from beneath the GI Bill and said:
"This is a paper I came across on the train the day before yesterday. The front page features a speech by the new governor, Clinton. He rambled a lot, but one thing he said is extremely important to us: the state legislature has passed the Virginia Housing Revival and Financing Act.
Fox never mentioned it earlier, and that's because it would've demolished his entire argument.
With this law, banks are expected to ease lending criteria. As long as a real estate company has a land deal and a development plan, even new companies with poor credit can get loans. That means we won't be stuck as glorified construction crews.
Also, the insurance threshold for real estate companies has dropped from $100,000 to $50,000, and the process has been streamlined.
Previously, real estate filings had to be approved by the state. Now that power has been delegated to city and county levels. True, city/county companies can only operate locally, but for us, that's more than enough.
And while none of this will be as easy as it sounds on paper—some people will definitely try to block us—let's not forget: convincing people is one of our special talents."
Fox had left, but his words lingered. The harsh realities of starting a real estate company had left this group of trained killers feeling helpless.
But Leo's calm tone soothed them. More than the new policies, it was the way Leo spoke—with certainty and control—that inspired confidence. Except for Charlie, everyone present had followed this man through one victory after another. Leo's use of the word "convince" said everything. On this not-so-civilized little town, a few "uncivilized" methods were still fair game.
"As for the money…"
Leo paused a moment, then continued:
"We'll need a total of $60,000. I'll figure out $50,000—everyone else chips in for the remaining $10,000."
Leo was finally ready to tap into his startup capital: 30 pounds of gold leaf—480 ounces. Since the Bretton Woods system stabilized U.S. gold prices at $35/oz, and with the black market running at $60/oz, the stash was worth roughly $28,000.
Of course, he wasn't dumb enough to exchange it all at once. He'd spread it out over a month.
Combined with the $10,000 from Carlo, his own savings of $6,000, the $2,000 GI loan, and a few borrowed dollars, he could cover the $50,000.
Joseph looked like he was about to speak, but Leo cut him off:
"You too. Whatever Sean and Daniel contribute, that's your share—no more. This is your punishment."
Leo said this plainly, but only he knew the real reason. As the only rich kid in the group, Joseph could easily get the full sum from his father, the sheriff. But Leo had no intention of turning this venture into someone else's charity project. He would not build an empire for another man's gain.
Whether Joseph liked it or not was irrelevant. Leo no longer believed in "absolute loyalty." He had long since outgrown such naivety.
"So now, we just need a registered architect," Desmond said, setting down the paper.
"My father, Kevin, is a state-certified architect," Daniel said quietly.
Everyone looked stunned. Daniel's family was known to be poor. His father, Kevin, was infamous around town as a hopeless drunk—he spent more time passed out in bars than at home.
"You're joking," Joseph said skeptically.
"I'm not," Daniel replied. "He really is a registered architect. He just fell apart after my mother died."
With Daniel's reluctant storytelling, Kevin's tragic past came to light:
Kevin Taylor, descended from California gold prospectors, was born in San Francisco. At 15, he apprenticed at a renowned architecture firm. By 18, he became a certified designer and married the boss's daughter.
Then came the Great Fire of 1905. It reduced San Francisco to ashes and took his wife and in-laws with it.
Devastated, Kevin moved to Richmond, Virginia. His talent soon gained him a reputation in the local architecture scene. In 1920, he remarried, and Daniel was born in 1923.
Things seemed better—until 1929.
High-risk investments wiped out Kevin's fortune in the Great Depression. He relocated to Lynchburg, broke and broken. That same winter, Daniel's mother died, and Kevin relapsed hard. Since then, no one but Daniel had ever seen him sober.
Ding-a-ling—the bell above the door chimed. Speak of the devil.
Covered in dust and reeking of booze, Kevin stumbled in.
"Goddammit, Kevin. You've got some nerve showing your face in here," Noodles barked from behind the bar.
Buuurp. Kevin let out a boozy hiccup, waved his hand dismissively, and declared, "Noodles, today I want your best whiskey. And guess what? I'm paying off my tab."
Without waiting for a reply, he reached behind the bar for a bottle.
Noodles moved to stop him, but Leo said calmly, "Let him have it. It's on me."
Kevin's presence made everyone uneasy. The stench alone was oppressive. Daniel practically sank under the table in embarrassment.
"You guys wait at the front. I'll talk to Kevin alone," Leo said, rising from his seat.