136-140

Chapter 136: Preparing to Become a Landlord

The next day.

Milo opened his slightly groggy eyes, cleared his throat, and felt the dryness on his lips.

He raised his left hand to rub his eyes and looked down at Sophie Marceau, who was resting on his arm, her limbs entwined with his. Seeing her deeply asleep, he gently pulled the blanket over her.

Carefully extricating himself from her embrace, Milo walked to the wardrobe, grabbed a bathrobe, and exited the bedroom. He entered the bathroom to wash off the traces of last night’s “farming session.”

While showering, memories of the "battles" fought in that very bathroom the previous evening flooded back to him.

Enchantress. If Milo were to describe Sophie Marceau in a word, this would undoubtedly be it.

In his previous life, even in her forties, Sophie still exuded elegance and charm. Now, in her prime, she was absolutely radiant.

Sophie Marceau likely carried some Germanic blood, mixed with Celtic ancestry, and perhaps a touch of ancient Roman heritage from Southern Europe.

This unique genetic blend gave her a beauty that aged more gracefully compared to Anglo-Saxon or Scandinavian women.

At 30 years old, she was the embodiment of sensuality, maturity, elegance, and a touch of mystery, with traces of youthful innocence lingering. How could any man not find her irresistible?

Milo was now seriously considering making her his.

For him, this wasn’t a difficult task.

As he often said: the media only shows what they want you to see.

What happens behind the camera remains forever hidden from outsiders.

Paparazzi?

Don’t make him laugh. Sure, paparazzi might follow celebrities 24/7, but could they really keep it up 365 days a year?

Besides, their stories were often exaggerated at best, mere gossip with little credibility.

And some people were simply untouchable, even to the most daring paparazzi.

Have you ever seen paparazzi reports about LL Island?

Milo once forced a Silicon Valley elite who crossed him to "suffocate on their own dreams."

Do you think he’d hesitate to deal similarly with overreaching paparazzi?

Even Milo wasn't the most extreme example. Take that political power couple still making waves—they operated on an entirely different level.

Remember the infamous "Clinton Death List" rumor a decade or so later?

Names like Vince Foster and Seth Rich were on that list.

Seth Rich, a high-ranking Democratic National Committee data director, was shot dead on the streets of Washington, supposedly for leaking data to WikiLeaks.

And Vince Foster, a White House staffer and rumored Clinton confidant, died under suspicious circumstances.

Journalists, writers, and lawyers who investigated the Clinton Foundation also met mysterious ends.

If such prominent individuals could vanish without causing ripples, what chance did paparazzi stand?

If the Clintons had their “Death List,” why couldn’t Milo create his “Blackburn’s Satanic Gaze”?

---

Returning to the women in Milo's life:

Monica, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and others stayed by his side, fully aware of each other’s existence.

They tolerated—or perhaps ignored—one another, even working together to please him.

Clearly, it wasn’t purely out of love.

Of course, there were emotions involved. Milo, when not in one of his rare erratic moods, was attentive and charming to each woman, deeply understanding their thoughts and feelings.

But emotions weren’t the decisive factor. He provided them with so much more—power, status, opportunities.

To put it plainly, Milo offered them lucrative yet unbalanced contracts.

Such contracts could only exist when one party held significantly more power than the other.

As long as they signed, they were bound to honor the terms.

But this was just the surface level. Human relationships were far more complex, and small details often influenced the bigger picture.

So, what would it take to win Sophie Marceau?

The thought alone was thrilling.

After his shower, Milo dressed, noting that it was already past 9 a.m.

Returning to the bedroom, he found Sophie still fast asleep, the blanket kicked off due to the room’s warmth.

Her waist-length golden-red hair spilled across the sheets, and her porcelain-like skin was breathtaking. Yet Milo resisted the urge to rekindle the passion of last night, considering the intensity of their previous “battle.”

He covered her with the blanket, adjusted the air conditioning, kissed her forehead, and left a handwritten note on the pillow before heading out.

---

At 10 a.m., Milo arrived at Yahoo’s Silicon Valley headquarters.

As Yahoo's chairman, he had a dedicated office—a spacious room formed by combining the previous offices of founders Jerry Yang and David Filo.

David Filo, one of Yahoo’s co-founders, had passed away, leaving Jerry Yang to carry on his legacy with relentless determination. His workaholic tendencies had significantly accelerated Yahoo's technological and application development.

---

In the chairman’s office, Milo complimented Elon Musk, who stood before him with a modest smile.

“Great job with ITY, Elon.”

“Thank you, boss! But honestly, you laid the groundwork. I merely continued the work that Weissgerber, Wardi, and Gold started,” Musk replied humbly.

Milo nodded, knowing Musk’s words carried truth. ITY was an enhanced version of the ICQ messaging app, with features like voice chat—ideas Milo had proposed to stay ahead of the curve.

“Now, I’m appointing you as Chief Marketing Officer for both ITY and Yahoo,” Milo said, smiling.

“But I have another project for you. It’ll stretch your limits, but I believe you’re up to the challenge. Are you ready?”

Musk’s eyes gleamed. “Boss, I can handle it! I can thrive on just three hours of sleep if needed!”

---

Milo then revealed his vision for a real estate startup integrating internet technology—a groundbreaking concept for the time. Musk eagerly accepted, already imagining the revolutionary impact of the idea.

With that settled, Milo began considering another significant move: buying large tracts of land in Silicon Valley to establish an Internet hub—a campus for his growing portfolio of IT companies like Yahoo, ITY, eBay, and Amazon.

Land was a timeless asset, and Milo intended to secure as much as possible before prices skyrocketed further.

---

(Chapter ends)

Chapter 137: The TV Station and Sister-in-Law Haley

On a cool mid-April morning in San Francisco, the weather was refreshingly crisp.

But for Milo and Sophie Marceau, staying in a climate-controlled luxury hotel, the outside temperature hardly mattered.

Milo had returned to the West Coast from New York five days earlier.

In those five days, he had completed most of his work.

That said, there wasn’t much work left that required his personal attention.

Yahoo had Schmidt—a legendary internet manager who had turned Google into a giant.

Most other IT company founders were also highly competent; otherwise, they wouldn’t have started companies in the first place.

And with a workaholic like Musk as a backup firefighter, things seemed manageable.

Moreover, today’s internet companies weren’t as massive as they would become in the future.

So while it seemed like Milo had a lot to deal with, it wasn’t overwhelming.

As for Sophie Marceau, who was in his arms at the moment...

When it comes to relationships, it’s like a monk eating dog meat—once you’ve tried it, the taboo is broken.

Sophie Marceau was still filming, but she no longer stayed at the hotel arranged by the crew.

Every night after work, she was picked up and brought to the Intercontinental Hotel in San Francisco, where Milo had rented a long-term suite.

At first, she was reluctant, even telling Milo she thought it was just One Night in San Francisco.

Milo had replied, “Exactly, but that night was then, and tonight is tonight. Every night can be a new One Night in San Francisco.”

Half-coercing, half-sweet-talking, and fully persuading her—along with the fact that Sophie was still nursing a heartbreak after over a year of being single—the two ended up living together in the hotel.

Now, the two were cuddled up in bed, fast asleep.

After all, they had worn themselves out the night before, not stopping until after 2 a.m., falling asleep without even taking a shower.

---

Suddenly, a phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand. Milo loosened his embrace, opened his sleepy eyes, and reached over to check the caller ID before answering.

“Hello… yes… okay, I’ll be there soon. Prepare some food for me. Got it.”

He hung up, tossed the phone aside, pulled Sophie Marceau closer, and closed his eyes again.

“What’s going on?” Sophie, awakened by the noise, moved Milo’s arm aside, turned to face his handsome face, and asked hoarsely.

Anyone would lose their voice after a night like that.

What? Keep quiet?

Impossible. Sophie thought no woman could do that—especially when the man was Milo.

“Just a golf meeting with Ted Turner of CNN and Turner Broadcasting. Nothing urgent. Go back to sleep,” Milo mumbled, eyes still closed.

Sophie didn’t know who Ted Turner was, but the name sounded important—and television-related.

She poked Milo’s eyelids with her fingers, grumbling, “I shouldn’t have let you have your way so much! Get up. It’s rude to be late when meeting someone important.”

There was another reason for her insistence: she didn’t want to give Milo the chance to start fooling around with her again.

He already wore her out every night; if he kept this up in the mornings too, she’d show up to the set either exhausted or late—and while no one said anything, Sophie was starting to feel guilty.

“Fine, fine. I’m getting up,” Milo said, frustrated as he got out of bed, grumbling, “Big shot, huh? Just another bloodsucking leech.”

“Sure, sure, you’re a big shot too! Just don’t be late,” Sophie teased, smiling as she watched Milo get dressed. Then she pulled the blanket over herself and went back to sleep, leaving Milo standing there, visibly annoyed.

---

An hour later, a convoy of modified Cadillac Escalades pulled into the parking lot of a golf club on the outskirts of San Francisco.

The club manager, smiling and eager, had been waiting for Milo.

As Milo stepped out of the car, the manager greeted him. “Good morning, Mr. Blackburn.”

The golf club belonged to the Wilson family, and Milo had visited it two or three times with his cousin, so the manager remembered him.

“Hey, Tom. Thanks for helping out again today,” Milo said warmly, patting the manager on the arm.

“My pleasure, sir. This way, please. Mr. Turner has already arrived.”

---

Moments later, Milo swung his golf club, sending a small white ball flying through the air. It landed on the grass, bounced a few times, and rolled forward.

“Milo, I don’t know how you played before, but your game looks pretty good now,” Ted Turner remarked, laughing as he pocketed the tee and walked over with his entourage.

Milo smiled modestly. “Practice makes perfect.”

While he didn’t love golf, most of his business meetings involved older men who were passionate about it.

Though he rarely played for leisure, frequent practice with these men had improved his skills.

As the conversation turned to business, Ted and the shareholders began discussing their interest in selling shares of Turner Broadcasting and CNN. Milo, with a sly smile, countered with his own terms, positioning himself as the perfect buyer for the struggling network.

As the negotiation continued, Milo’s phone buzzed again.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said, stepping away to answer the call.

---

“Good morning, dear Haley. It’s been a while since you called. What’s the matter?”

Haley explained she was hosting a meeting at home with key family confidants, including Brian, Joseph, and Jeff.

Milo immediately recognized the names and understood that his politically ambitious sister-in-law was up to something important.

Chapter 138: Sister-in-Law is Coming

After chatting with his widowed sister-in-law Hailey for a bit, Milo learned what had been going on back home.

Basically, Hailey’s idea of heading to Washington had hit some snags.

There were equally powerful people competing with her for a related position.

Both sides were evenly matched, and it was unclear who would win if things escalated.

As a result, the other side proposed compensating the Blackburn family for stepping aside this time.

Politics is the art of compromise, after all. The Blackburn family didn’t outright reject the offer.

Mainly because the competition was still within the Democratic Party; both sides were factions of the same party, and it wasn’t worth going all out over this.

Of course, that was the official excuse.

In reality, the compensation offered was tempting, and it seemed the Blackburns might not even win outright if it came down to a fight.

Old Blackburn had gathered all his closest allies, holding several meetings at the Blackburn estate over the past few days.

After a few rounds of discussions, the political elite of the Blackburn family concluded that the conditions proposed by the other side weren’t bad at all.

“…So, everyone decided it would be better if I came to the West Coast to help you instead.”

Hailey’s slightly husky voice came softly through the phone.

Milo subconsciously kicked at the grass underfoot, glancing toward Ted Turner’s group.

A bunch of old guys were still swinging their clubs, though clearly also deep in animated conversation, likely negotiating something.

“What do you think, Hailey? I mean your personal feelings. Would you rather go to Washington or come here to help me?”

After some thought, Milo added softly, “Follow your heart. If you want to go to Washington, Hailey, I’ll support you. I think I now have the means to make it happen.”

Even without considering the Blackburn family’s political clout, Milo felt he’d become a small magnate in his own right.

While he might not yet have the influence to install a president, governor, or senator, helping someone secure a chief judge position in a federal circuit court?

Milo thought he could pull it off.

Worst case, he’d throw money at the problem.

If $100 million wasn’t enough, then $200 million, $300 million, or even $400 million!

Washington’s K Street was full of lobbying firms, and those guys would do anything for money.

On the other end, after a long silence, Hailey’s voice came through again:

“Grandfather and Dad are right. As the sole heir of the Blackburn family, you’re the most important. But you’re mainly based in New York and California now. Instead of supporting politicians who may not share your goals in those places, it’s better if one of us goes instead.”

“Also, Mom has always been worried about you. She’s afraid you’ll be mistreated while you’re out there alone. She wants me to take care of you. Though, truthfully, I suspect if I go, it’ll end up being you taking care of me more.”

“Got it.” Milo chuckled softly, still holding the phone as he squinted slightly upward.

The sun in San Francisco was bright today, but not entirely pleasant.

The sunlight warmed his body, but it also felt a bit glaring.

“Then come over. Just as Grandfather said, Hailey, my dear Hailey, I truly need your help. I need someone I can trust here.”

“Alright,” Hailey said. “I’ll come over next month. Do you want me in Southern California or Northern California?”

Southern California meant the Greater Los Angeles area, while Northern California referred to the vast San Francisco Bay Area.

Though California was developed, its growth had largely centered around these two regions.

Much of the rest of the state was still desert or barren land.

“San Francisco,” Milo said decisively. “No matter what, this is California’s political and financial hub. I think it’ll suit you better.”

“San Francisco it is,” Hailey agreed.

“I’ll let Grandfather know your decision now. Next, we’ll need to negotiate to ensure the compensation lands in California.”

“By the way, if I go to San Francisco, Brian might head to Los Angeles. Grandfather and Dad believe Brian Ross should take on more responsibility.”

Brian Ross, technically a Blackburn family advisor, was also a politician.

He’d previously served as a Massachusetts legislator.

After failing to win the Boston mayoral race, he had stepped back into an advisory role.

Milo agreed that the family’s arrangement made sense.

At least half of his business ventures were now in California.

California itself was split into two main zones: Los Angeles for media and San Francisco for the internet.

While he could cooperate with local players like the Newsom and Pelosi families, without marrying into those families and rooting himself in California, he’d always be an outsider.

With Brian Ross and Hailey coming over, they could shore up his weak spots.

At the very least, he wouldn’t need to negotiate directly with Newsom or Pelosi anymore.

He could let Brian and Hailey act as his proxies.

“Okay!” Milo laughed. “Then I’ll be here waiting for you!”

“Alright.”

Hailey hung up first.

Milo put away his phone and strolled back toward Ted Turner’s group.

From a distance, he grinned and said, “Hey, Ted, that swing was pretty good! Almost a birdie!”

Ted Turner, who had just hit a good shot, turned to see Milo approaching after finishing his call.

Whether it was just a feeling or not, Ted thought Milo seemed to be in a much better mood after that call.

Did he just make another few hundred million dollars?

Ted Turner knew this guy had a company on Wall Street.

Rumor had it that in just a few months, the company had earned billions.

The nickname “Wall Street Whiz” was still stuck to him.

“Done with your call? Not bad, that’s just my usual performance,” Ted joked.

Ironically, Milo’s call had actually helped Ted significantly.

After Milo had stepped away, the TV station shareholders had a chance to talk candidly without him present.

---

Listening to the endless arguments behind him and watching the young man walking toward them from the slope ahead, Ted Turner understood one thing very clearly:

Finding a buyer willing to pay in cash was rare these days.

Yes, Time Warner was indeed interested in TBS.

But Ted Turner knew all too well that when giants like Time Warner acquired companies like his, they rarely offered full cash deals.

Typically, they’d pay a portion in cash—say, $1 billion for an $8 billion valuation—while the remaining $7 billion would be issued as special acquisition stocks.

Although stocks could be sold, and the market was bullish at the moment, traditional media stocks had been sliding ever since the internet emerged.

What’s more, special acquisition stocks often came with lock-up periods of several months to half a year.

By the time the lock-up ended, those $7 billion worth of stocks might not even be worth $7 billion anymore.

In comparison, cold, hard cash was far more reliable.

No one wanted to gamble, and Ted Turner was no exception.

So when Milo assured him he could continue managing Turner Broadcasting System (TBS) post-acquisition, Ted was willing to lend Milo a hand.

He was also wary of being sidelined or ousted by Time Warner if he went with them.

And let’s not forget: Milo came from a family with an intimidating reputation.

For goodness' sake, no one wanted to cross a family like the Blackburns—veteran politicians who chewed people up and spit them out without a trace.

More terrifyingly, Milo was rumored to be the Rockefeller family's son-in-law.

As a media mogul already well-embedded in high society, Ted Turner knew the rumor was true.

From certain sources, he’d even heard that old man Rockefeller himself was exceptionally fond of his grandson-in-law.

The patriarch had allegedly remarked: “This guy would have outshone all of us if he had been around in our time. We might have ended up working for him.”

"Alright, folks, it’s decision time. This young Blackburn isn’t going to buy the TV station unless he gets a bigger share than Time Warner is offering," Ted declared.

"That means any one of you dissenting could kill the deal. So, what’s the plan? Do you really want to keep pouring money into the station or watch your shares get diluted?"

The group exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, someone asked, “Ted, what’s your call?”

“Sell to him. But not for $7 billion—we’ll push for at least $7.5 billion. At that valuation, we all make money. And let’s be real: Milo Blackburn isn’t some reckless kid. The fact that he’s here playing golf with us speaks volumes. Don’t bother trying to squeeze more out of him; just take the profit.”

Ted Turner’s resolute stance forced the group of greedy, indecisive shareholders to align. Without a firm tone, they might have tried to pull all sorts of stunts.

When Milo returned, everyone acted as if the earlier tension over pricing had never existed.

Back to their game, they swung their clubs, laughing and chatting as if nothing had happened.

Standing beside Ted Turner and watching the others play, Milo casually asked with a smile:

“Mr. Turner, if I acquire this 41%, who holds the remaining 10% I need to secure control?”

“Hearst Communications owns 6.5%—they invest in just about anything related to media,” Ted explained.

“The other 5% belongs to the Cox family’s private company in Atlanta, Georgia.”

“If you can get those two families to sell, TBS and CNN will be yours for good. No one will be able to take them from you.”

Hearing this, Milo fell silent.

He knew that getting shares from either of these families wouldn’t be easy.

The Hearst family, being a media powerhouse themselves, didn’t lack money.

The Cox family was even more challenging—they were Georgia’s biggest power players, a long-established "old money" family.

Though not as dominant as New England’s elite, they still ranked among the top 20 wealthiest families in the U.S.

Sensing Milo’s hesitation, Ted Turner added, “Milo, honestly, 41% is already enough to give you control. Hearst’s shares will be tough to buy, and Cox’s shares might not even be for sale. If you can’t buy them, I doubt Time Warner could either.”

Time Warner, after all, had only formed in 1990, when Time Inc. and Warner Communications merged.

Backed by oil tycoons, Time Warner might get Hearst’s cooperation, but the Cox family? Highly unlikely.

Unless they offered more money.

And if there was one thing money could solve, it was problems like this.

Milo quickly came to terms with the situation.

Indeed, owning 41% of TBS was enough for control.

Plenty of other major companies were controlled with even less—consider Hong Kong’s Cheung Kong Group, where the Li family held just 35%.

Milo’s preference for a 51% majority stake—or even privatizing the company—was just his conservative streak showing.

But after crunching the numbers, he realized acquiring just 41% was also the more economical choice.

At a $7.5 billion valuation, 41% would cost around $3.1 billion.

He wouldn’t even need to issue junk bonds to raise the funds.

Instead, he could use the shares as collateral for a $2 billion loan and pay the remaining $1 billion out of pocket.

This approach would significantly reduce his financial burden during the acquisition.

As for ensuring control afterward?

He already had plenty of strategies in mind.

Even without his advisors’ input, Milo could come up with numerous ways to pressure the other shareholders into selling.

Or they could stubbornly hold on and watch him run TBS as he pleased.

Furthermore, Time Warner likely already owned 15–20% of TBS shares.

Knowing the nature of oil-backed corporations, if they saw the tide turning and Milo offered a good price, they’d likely sell to him as well.

At that point, Milo’s stake in TBS would surpass 51%.

So, to avoid unnecessary delays, Milo agreed to the $7.5 billion valuation.

In a parallel timeline, Time Warner had paid $7.8 billion for TBS.

Milo’s deal cost $300 million less, albeit in all cash.

Still, Milo was pleased.

That afternoon, both parties signed a preliminary agreement.

Though the contract wasn’t finalized—violating it would result in a hefty $2 billion penalty—the deal was effectively sealed.

After finalizing the paperwork within a week, Turner Broadcasting System would officially belong to Milo.

*Chapter 139: Acquiring a New Home*

April 13.

Milo was still in San Francisco, working out of the top-floor office at Yahoo headquarters.

Yahoo had found its footing.

Unlike its counterpart in the parallel timeline, where Yahoo was just a web portal, this Yahoo had diversified under Milo’s vision.

With top-tier executive Eric Schmidt at the helm, Yahoo wasn’t just a portal anymore. It was also delving into search engines, web games, and social platforms.

The Yahoo search engine adopted the future Google model. Milo instructed the development team to create an embedded search engine for Yahoo’s site and focus on improving accuracy and usability.

As for web games, despite their early emergence, they had never gained much traction in the U.S., where entertainment options like home gaming consoles and movies were more appealing.

But Milo saw an untapped opportunity. Alongside developing web games, he launched Yahoo Community where users could engage in vibrant discussions.

Yahoo’s web games leveraged this platform, hosting leaderboards and internal competitions. For instance, Galaxy Battleship, a game Milo conceived, held monthly contests.

The first-place winner would receive a $10,000 prize from Yahoo and have their ID prominently displayed on the Yahoo Community homepage for a month, marking them as a gaming expert and community celebrity.

Their ID was also uniquely color-coded in posts and comments, setting them apart.

Humans, regardless of culture, enjoy being in the spotlight. For Americans, with their strong individualistic streak, this was particularly enticing.

Unable to become real-life superheroes, they could become virtual legends. No wealth or special talents were required—just gaming skills.

Winning money—$10,000, no less—sealed the deal.

With the rankings, Yahoo’s web games, initially a side feature, exploded in popularity. This boosted activity on the community platform.

Coupled with the search engine and features unavailable on other portals, Yahoo became Silicon Valley’s standout star.

Recent data showed Yahoo had over 10 million daily active users—an astounding figure, double the combined total of its competitors.

Morgan Stanley, Wells Fargo, and Boston First National Bank joining Yahoo’s third funding round further bolstered investor confidence.

In the internet industry, the investment mantra was:

1. Bet on the leader to maintain dominance.

2. Bet on the second-place player to disrupt the leader.

3. If desperate, gamble on the underdog for a long-shot payoff.

Yahoo’s dominance left little room for competitors, with the second-place portal only managing one-seventh of Yahoo’s traffic.

For the underdog, only those with no other options placed their bets there.

Yahoo thrived. Less than a month after its third funding round, the company was valued at over $2 billion.

But valuation wasn’t the same as tangible value. Yahoo wasn’t public yet, so everything remained theoretical.

Except for Milo, the other shareholders pushed for an IPO to cash out.

Milo, wielding majority shares, overruled them, vowing to create an internet miracle—making Yahoo synonymous with the web.

His stake gave him the final say, forcing others to comply despite their reservations.

With Yahoo growing in influence, Milo spent more time in San Francisco. However, he still managed affairs in New York and Los Angeles.

For instance, today, he was reviewing a report from Los Angeles.

Paladin Capital, part of his Paladin Investment Group, had recently acquired a talent agency in LA.

Talent agencies were crucial in managing actors and directors and could sway casting decisions toward preferred film studios.

These agencies formed the unseen network underpinning Hollywood’s glitz. While not glamorous themselves, they were indispensable.

Milo aimed to build his own agency network.

Though U.S. law prohibited studio owners from controlling both agencies and theater chains to prevent monopolies, loopholes abounded.

Take Sumner Redstone, for example. His family owned one of the largest theater chains, controlled CBS, and owned Paramount.

Milo circumvented regulations by registering the talent agency under his mother’s name.

The newly acquired agency was already a treasure trove, housing several future stars. Backed by Paladin Films’ rise and funding, it had attracted even more talent.

Now, Milo just needed a capable CEO to oversee operations.

Bringing these stars under his wing and shaping their careers to serve his interests brought him as much joy as winning over the women he desired.

He stretched lazily, pondering his next move.

"Anything else to handle?"

With Britney and Christina’s parents eager for their daughters to succeed, Milo had no worries there.

Meanwhile, his TV projects were on track. He planned to produce Breaking Bad and Shameless using his “original” scripts.

For films, The Da Vinci Code was shooting, while Mr. & Mrs. Smith and Hitch were in pre-production. Shakespeare in Love had already grossed over $400 million globally, surpassing expectations.

In print media, Milo’s team was acquiring local newspapers and planning a national publication under Paladin Press.

Just then, the phone rang. Milo pressed the speaker button.

“Mr. Blackburn, Bob Davis called. They’ve finalized the IPO date and celebration details for Lycos,” Megan informed him, her tone devoid of emotion.

“Great. Have them send the details. I’ll attend,” Milo replied, ending the call.

Lycos, one of his many investments, was set to go public on May 1.

Looking at his watch, it was already 3 PM. Milo called his third line before heading out to meet Wendy.

Forty minutes later, they arrived at a waterfront estate in North Bay, San Francisco.

“This property, called Bay House, spans 18.9 acres with 15,800 square feet of renovated structures, plus a dock and helipad,” Wendy explained.

“How much?” Milo asked.

“The seller is asking $25 million, including a 77-foot yacht.”

“I don’t want the yacht. Offer $18 million. If they agree, cut the check immediately.”

Wendy nodded, confident the deal would close.

Milo gazed at the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance, his thoughts drifting. Haley was coming soon, and he wanted everything ready for her arrival.

*Chapter 140: The Question of Pregnancy and Children*

Spring always brings new beginnings: fresh buds, blossoming flowers, new decisions, and new lives. The air is crisp and fresh.

Well, technically, it’s already late April.

But in San Francisco, this is still considered springtime.

The morning sunlight in San Francisco was Milo’s favorite. Warm yet gentle, it streamed through the white curtains into the bedroom, making them sway lightly in the spring breeze.

Milo blinked awake, his vision momentarily blurred by the bright sunlight. A woman with flowing black hair lay beside him, resting her head on her arm and gazing at him.

Rubbing his eyes, he reached out and pulled the radiant, mature, and elegant Sophie Marceau into his embrace. He kissed her forehead gently. "Good morning, my dear."

Sophie nestled her face against Milo’s chest, savoring the warmth of his hand caressing her skin. After weeks of sharing a hotel room, the two had grown undeniably closer.

As some novelist once said, "Physical intimacy is a shortcut to a woman’s heart."

Milo had taken that shortcut with Sophie, many times over, until it became second nature to both of them.

To be honest, Sophie had her reservations initially.

Intimacy was easy, but cohabitation was hard.

People’s habits and personalities can only be disguised or restrained for so long.

For example, Sophie often went makeup-free and dressed casually in oversized T-shirts and lounge pants, preferring comfort over style. She didn’t like tidying up and could be a bit unkempt, frequently lounging on the sofa with snacks and watching TV.

Milo, however, didn’t seem to mind her relaxed habits. Except for occasionally teasing her about her penchant for overly sentimental literary dramas, he had no complaints about her bare face or laid-back attitude.

On the other hand, Sophie often griped about Milo’s quirks.

Like his habit of walking around naked in the room or spending at least half an hour reading in the bathroom.

But what really drove her crazy was his insatiable appetite for intimacy.

He would seize any opportunity, and during her time of the month, he’d insist on alternatives, leaving her muttering curses while washing her face, hair, and teeth afterward.

And so their days went on—quarreling, compromising, and adjusting to each other.

"The movie is almost finished," Sophie murmured suddenly.

"Already? I thought filming was supposed to last until June," Milo replied in surprise.

"That’s for the rest of the crew. As the lead actress, I’ve wrapped up most of my scenes," Sophie explained.

Milo nodded.

The Da Vinci Code was, without a doubt, a male-centered story, focusing primarily on the male protagonist's role as a detective and codebreaker.

As the female lead, Sophie’s role was mainly to connect scenes, smooth out the plot, and serve as a beautiful accessory.

Most Hollywood films were like that, except for chick flicks and romances.

Big-budget films tended to cast women as decorative elements.

This trend was evident even in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, where male superheroes dominated, and female-led superhero movies often performed modestly at the box office.

"What’s your plan next? Back to Europe, or will you stay in Hollywood?" Milo kissed her smooth, fair forehead—avoiding her lips, as both were aware of morning breath.

Sophie sighed. "I’m still considering my options."

Hollywood offered abundant opportunities, but suitable roles for famous, glamorous actresses were surprisingly scarce.

Unlike struggling actors, Sophie had to weigh factors like production quality, directors, pay, and co-stars.

She could reach out to collaborate with prominent directors, but smaller ones would struggle to work with her.

Hollywood was a competitive battlefield where resources were everything, explaining why powerful figures like Harvey Weinstein could dominate.

"Why not stay in Hollywood? Stay in the U.S.?" Milo suggested, gazing into her clear eyes.

"You’ve already reached the pinnacle in France and Europe. Let’s be honest, European cinema doesn’t compare to Hollywood’s global reach."

Sophie playfully slapped his chest, feigning annoyance at his dismissal of European films.

"Hollywood dominates the global film industry. Staying here would give you a broader stage."

"Alright," Sophie agreed after pretending to think it over. "I’ll stay here."

Her decision wasn’t impulsive; like many European stars, she yearned to prove herself in Hollywood.

"Unfortunately, my production company doesn’t have any suitable scripts for you this year," Milo admitted after some thought. "But if you trust me, you can sign with my agency. In the meantime, improve your English—your accent is charming, but it might be a challenge for American audiences in films."

Sophie nodded, understanding the practicality of his suggestion.

Then, after silently staring at Milo for a while, she said, "I stopped taking the pills your secretary gave me three days ago. And you know my period ended two days ago."

Her candidness left Milo momentarily speechless.

She continued softly, "I’m thirty years old now. But I don’t have a child."

Milo froze, contemplating her words before responding cautiously, "Do you want a child? You had a boyfriend in Poland, didn’t you? Is it his issue or yours?"

"Don’t mention him!" Sophie snapped, her face darkening as she recalled her ex’s dismissive comments.

She gazed at Milo with a mix of melancholy and resolve. "I’ve given the best years of my life to someone who didn’t appreciate them. Now I want to leave something behind in this world—a part of me.

"And I think your genes will do nicely."

Her declaration caught Milo off guard.

But after a moment, he chuckled. "If that’s what you want, I’d be honored."

For him, having a child with Sophie Marceau was far from a bad idea. If she truly wanted this, he wouldn’t object.

After all, in his world, dealing with such matters was second nature.