71-75

Chapter 71: The Purpose of Coming to New York

Unlike the old faith, Protestantism emphasizes personal belief and the salvation of the soul. It views faith as a direct connection between an individual and God, without the need for intermediaries.

What are these intermediaries? Naturally, they refer to the papacy and the Vatican!

Thus, Protestant churches lack centralized authority. Instead, they typically consist of multiple independent parishes, each managed by its own bishop.

If Catholicism represents centralization, then the Protestantism prevalent in America resembles a fragmented feudal system.

Across various regions, states, counties, and even cities, Protestantism has relatively autonomous leaders.

Even within Protestantism, there are divisions into denominations such as Lutheranism, Calvinism, and Baptism. Within each denomination, there are further subdivisions like Evangelicalism, Pentecostalism, and Fundamentalism.

And within those groups, there are often smaller factions.

This endless segmentation makes Protestantism resemble a cake carved into countless slices, leaving no piece untouched.

Archbishop Benjamin Butcher, for instance, is the Anglican archbishop in New York.

His cathedral is the Trinity Church before them.

However, few know that before becoming a shepherd of the Lord and moving to New York, Benjamin Butcher hailed from Massachusetts.

Before his missionary work, his full name was the rather long Benjamin Adams Butcher Blackburn.

He is the older brother, by ten years, of John II Adams Joe Blackburn.

“Granduncle, I suppose I’ll be able to visit you often now.”

In the chamber, seated on one of the only two armchairs, Milo smiled at his grandfather’s older brother—his granduncle:

“I’m planning to start a company in New York, so I’ll probably be coming here regularly.”

“That’s wonderful,” Benjamin Butcher said with a kind smile, the signs of age evident on his face. “Joseph visited me a few days ago and mentioned this to me.”

Milo nodded, recalling the teachings of his grandfather and father.

Patiently, he spent the afternoon with this relative who had devoted himself to the service of God after the death of his wife.

At noon, Milo shared a Holy Communion meal with Archbishop Benjamin Butcher in the church.

The so-called Holy Communion consisted of bread and wine.

In the afternoon, after leaving the church, Milo returned to his car. “While I’m here, I might as well visit Times Square.”

Times Square is a triangular area located at the intersection of 42nd Street, Broadway, and 7th Avenue.

New York often refers to parks as “squares,” but this place is neither a park nor a square—it’s a triangular zone.

Its name comes from the New York Times relocating its headquarters there in 1904.

As the heart of New York’s classical music scene, Lincoln Center is a dream stage for all artists. It is also a cultural hub that houses an opera house, concert hall, and outdoor amphitheater.

Once a slum, this area has now become a stage for the performing arts and one of the most coveted residential areas in New York.

Standing at the triangle, Milo felt the exhilarating energy of a world bursting with vibrancy.

Around him surged a diverse crowd of people from all over the world—different races, countries, and ethnicities—creating a stage without borders.

The massive cylindrical Nasdaq billboard alternated between cold and warm faces in hues of black, blue, and red, as if heralding the volatile nature of this global financial hub.

“This truly is the crossroads of the world,” Milo mused, marveling at the bustling energy. He knew that in this territory, where interests had long been divided, staking a claim required billions of dollars.

New York, with its distinct seasons, was especially cold in late January.

Standing outside, Milo began to feel the chill seeping in.

Noticing the time—4:00 PM—he realized he was getting tired after a morning of sightseeing and a lengthy visit with his relative.

Deciding on one last stop for the day, Milo set out for the Paladin Investment Company’s New York headquarters, located at 1001 Wall Street in Manhattan.

This investment firm, established before Christmas, had recently relocated from Los Angeles.

During the Christmas holidays, Milo discussed the company with his father and grandfather.

Both elders agreed that if it involved investments and financial capital, it would be best to base the company in a financial hub like San Francisco, Boston, New York, or Chicago.

After deliberation, Milo chose Manhattan.

San Francisco was unnecessary since it was the weakest financial center. A branch office near Silicon Valley would suffice.

Boston already had a Blackburn family-owned financial firm where Milo could even serve as chairman if he wished.

That left Chicago or New York.

Thinking of Chicago immediately reminded Milo of its crime issues, so New York became the obvious choice.

At 4:30 PM Eastern Time, the sky was overcast, hinting at possible snowfall.

Milo and his entourage of five arrived at the Paladin Investment Company’s floor.

Greeted by two attractive receptionists, Milo introduced himself and was promptly granted entry through the glass doors.

As Milo walked away, one blonde receptionist blushed and whispered excitedly, “That’s the boss! He’s so young, handsome, and well-built!”

The brunette beside her retorted, “Did you see the stunning woman beside him? Unless you’re as beautiful as her and have a figure like hers, don’t get your hopes up.”

The office, approximately 8,000 square feet, featured an open-plan layout. Aside from a few partitioned meeting rooms and offices, the space was mostly open, with work desks separated by simple dividers.

The modern and spacious design reflected the company’s newness.

Unlike the bustling, cramped atmosphere typical of Wall Street firms, where time is money, Paladin felt almost serene.

As Milo entered, none of the employees looked up from their screens. Despite only having about 20 staff, the office exuded a tense, focused energy.

Refraining from disturbing them, Milo quickly crossed the hall to the general manager’s office and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came the reply.

Milo smiled as he entered, seeing Neilson engrossed in paperwork. Clearing his throat, he teased, “Neilson, you should hire a secretary.”

“Oh, boss, you’re here! Please, have a seat,” Neilson said, quickly standing to welcome Milo to the lounge area. He then called out, “Maria! Maria! Two coffees, please!”

“Sorry about the delay in hiring staff,” Neilson admitted sheepishly. “We’re still filling positions, including the secretary’s.”

“Still recruiting? I thought you already had about 20 employees. Do we need more? Anyway, you’re the expert; I trust your judgment,” Milo responded, quickly adjusting his tone to one of confidence and encouragement.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 72: The Gospel Returns?

Manhattan Island, New York.

Wall Street, Paladin Investments.

In Nielsen's office.

Sipping coffee brought over by the beautiful blonde receptionist, Milo glanced through the glass walls at the employees working diligently outside.

Inside the office, Nielsen raised an eyebrow and said:

"So you're starting operations already? But from what I see, the company's account hasn't entered any stock, bond, or futures positions yet."

"That's correct."

With a smile, Nielsen explained to his boss:

"The people we've hired are still undergoing evaluation. Some of them may even be eliminated."

"I've got them participating in simulated stock market competitions. Those who perform poorly will be weeded out. As a financial firm, this is the simplest and most direct way to select talent. Many large companies use this method too."

"Oh, I see. No wonder their expressions are so tense, glued to their computer screens with such grim focus."

It turned out the hiring process wasn’t complete yet—not even internships had begun.

"There's no other choice. Although hiring through headhunting firms is the easiest way to find talent, it's too expensive for a startup like ours. So, it's better to spend some time discovering potential ourselves. This simulation competition method is commonly used in universities as well."

Nielsen elaborated further:

"We’ve got 20 participants, paired into teams of two, with each team managing $5 million in virtual funds. The T+0 trading model encourages quick buying and selling, testing their short-term trading skills in the shortest amount of time."

In the past, Milo wouldn’t have understood any of this.

But after Nielsen’s personal guidance and explanations, along with Milo’s self-study and even private lessons from a Harvard finance professor, he’d come to grasp the basics.

Now recalling his purpose for being in New York, Milo suddenly asked:

"Hey, Nielsen, our company currently has $5 million in the account, right?"

Nielsen paused, then nodded. "Yes, the company’s operating account has $5 million, sitting in our account at Boston First Bank."

As soon as he finished, he was startled to see Milo close his eyes.

Nielsen: ???

He wasn’t sure what his boss was up to or whether he should speak.

After about ten seconds of awkward hesitation, Nielsen saw Milo open his eyes and look at him calmly.

"Nielsen, if we used leverage, how much capital could we control with $5 million?"

Though puzzled by his boss's behavior, Nielsen answered truthfully:

"Under $100 million. Boston First Bank offers us 20 to 50 times leverage. Citi offers 10 to 30 times, while JPMorgan is the most aggressive, with a cap of 80 times. Other banks are similar to Citi. But for anything above 20 times leverage, we’d need prior notice and to sign agreements."

Milo nodded and pointed at the employees outside with his left hand, which wasn’t holding the coffee cup.

"If we started actual trading now, would they be ready?"

Nielsen, beginning to sense what Milo was planning, frowned slightly.

"They’d be fine. Most of them are experienced, and the rookies are all top-tier finance graduates from Ivy League schools."

"Good."

Milo took a sip of coffee and set the cup on the table.

"Nielsen, contact the bank. Use the $5 million as margin and get the maximum leverage you can."

"Boss..." Nielsen hesitated, wanting to dissuade him.

"I know what you're thinking, Nielsen," Milo said with a smile. "But what if I told you..."

"I heard the voice of God." Milo raised his eyebrows, his gaze lifting.

A strange, faintly mocking expression spread across his face.

Under the office lights, his high-bridged nose and deep-set eyes cast contrasting shadows. One eye glimmered with a hint of a smile, while the other was obscured in the shadow of his hair, its gaze narrowing into darkness.

Nielsen, for the first time, saw such an unsettling expression on a young man.

A joke?

Nielsen maintained a calm exterior, though waves churned in his mind.

Just as he was grappling with his thoughts, Milo’s expression suddenly returned to normal.

He now exuded his usual nonchalant playboy vibe:

"Come on, it’s only $5 million. Even if we lose it all, consider it tuition. After all, this is New York, Manhattan, Wall Street."

"Being here, how can I not play? Who knows—maybe I’m a hidden stock angel, arbitrage king, or even the next junk bond tycoon."

"Coming to New York without playing is like going to Vegas without visiting the Venetian or Caesars Palace. It’d be a waste."

This casual demeanor was more in line with Nielsen’s impression of Milo.

As Milo’s former financial advisor at Bank of America years ago, Nielsen had known him for a while.

Though he was astonished by Milo’s transformation over the past six months—becoming a bestselling author, producing a hit movie, and investing in promising startups—this carefree, devil-may-care attitude was the Milo he remembered.

Even so, Nielsen still wanted to object. That $5 million was Paladin Investments’ only capital.

But before he could speak, Milo waved him off.

"Just do it, Nielsen. Who knows—maybe I’ll be the next Milken before his fall, or Boskey."

Globally, when people think of Wall Street, names like Soros and Buffett often come to mind.

But the more informed might recall the stock angel Peter Lynch.

In truth, aside from Soros, neither Buffett nor Lynch were New York regulars.

Buffett stayed rooted in Omaha, Nebraska, while Lynch, before retiring, rarely left Boston, where Fidelity’s headquarters are located. Even Soros spent much of his time in Chicago.

The names Milo mentioned—Michael Milken and Ivan Boesky—were the true “villains” of Wall Street.

Milken, famously known as the “Junk Bond King,” and Boesky, dubbed the “Stock Arbitrage King,” were inspirations for Gordon Gekko in the original Wall Street film.

Figures like Buffett symbolized the American Dream, but Boesky and Milken embodied the raw essence of Wall Street.

"I’m serious, Nielsen. I’m not joking. Just follow my instructions."

Seeing Milo’s firm resolve, Nielsen had no choice but to comply.

Still, he decided to call Wendy later, hoping she could talk some sense into Milo.

If Wendy couldn’t, Nielsen knew he had no chance either.

Leaving the office, Nielsen couldn’t help but recall Milo’s earlier peculiar expression.

It reminded him of the recent debates among American religious leaders.

Months ago, The New York Times listed the “25 Most Influential Living Religious Leaders in America,” with at least 18 participating in a heated discussion.

Among them was Billy Graham, regarded as the foremost religious leader in America.

Graham, in The Christian Science Monitor, supported the views of Archbishop Benjamin Butcher, a prominent figure in New York’s evangelical church.

Archbishop Butcher was the first to claim that Milo Blackburn had heard the voice of God.

Protestant doctrine, which emphasizes justification by faith, holds that ordinary believers—not just popes or priests—can hear God’s voice.

Nielsen, a devout believer influenced by his family, now wondered:

Had Milo truly heard another message from God?

(Chapter End)  

Chapter 73: The King of Capitol Hill Stocks

New York, Manhattan.

The room, shrouded in heavy curtains, was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp emitting a soft, sultry glow.

Within this secluded room, seemingly isolated from the outside world, every corner resonated with sounds that stirred the senses.

Sometimes high-pitched, sometimes low, alternating between flattering and plaintive, sometimes breathless as if asthmatic, and at other moments drawing sharp, shivering intakes of air.

By the edge of a disheveled Hästens bed stood an elegant vanity.

The dark mahogany of the vanity appeared imposing under the room’s warm, amber light.

But this air of solemnity seemed merely superficial as the vanity began to shudder with a series of muffled, chaotic noises.

Suddenly, with a sharp slap.

A pair of alabaster arms pressed hurriedly against the vanity’s surface, and a supple, curvaceous figure collapsed over it, as if losing balance.

If not for those slender arms holding firm, the shapely body might have pressed completely against the vanity.

As the woman possessing this stunning figure lifted her head nervously, the vanity mirror reflected the striking and delicate face of Monica Bellucci.

At this moment, however, her face was flushed, her captivating eyes glazed.

In the mirror, another figure appeared – Milo Blackburn, who had only arrived in New York two days prior.

His perfectly defined muscles were taut, glistening with sweat, perhaps due to the warmth radiating from the room’s heating system.

Amid the raspy, intense sounds that filled the air.

Monica, her vision swimming, blinked her beautiful eyes that now seemed unfocused.

She had only been with Milo in New York for two nights.

Yet she had lost count of how many times she’d seen fireworks.

If this continued, she feared exhaustion or worse.

Monica suddenly found herself longing for the days in Los Angeles.

At least in L.A., Zeta-Jones and others were there to share the intensity.

But now, in New York, she was the only assistant by Milo’s side.

“Milo, Milo, I love you so much…”

Milo listened to the soft, affectionate whispers of Monica, who was still reveling in the moment.

He tightened his embrace, as if wishing to meld her into his very being.

The taste of bliss, only those who’ve tried it know.

“I love you too,” he replied.

Love words came easily now; he had mastered the art.

And whoever he spoke them to, he always managed to sound sincere.

Such things come naturally with practice.

Whether women wanted to believe them or enjoy hearing them...

As long as you’re handsome, wealthy, and abundantly gifted.

Even if women suspect your words might be false, they’ll still choose to convince themselves they’re true!

Trust me, with Milo’s advantages, they would love to hear it.

As for Monica’s current state of exhaustion,

Milo didn’t think he was to blame. Who could resist Italy’s national treasure of beauty?

Especially at twenty-five, her prime.

Playing was naturally irresistible.

So much so that when he woke up and saw her lying there, body draped across the sheets.

He couldn’t help but indulge once more, leaving Monica, who hadn’t rested well the night before, even more spent.

He glanced at the light seeping through the thick curtain’s edge.

Milo knew it must be broad daylight outside.

There was work to be done today. Milo gently pulled the covers over Monica, who had fallen asleep with a sweet smile despite her exhaustion.

He picked up his trousers from the carpet and retrieved his phone, calling David to make sure everything was ready.

Walking into the bathroom with his phone, the sound of running water soon echoed, and the steam began to fill the space.

After about ten minutes, the bathroom door opened. Milo stepped out, toweling off his wet hair, a white bath towel wrapped around his waist. He grabbed his phone from the utility shelf and called Nelson on Wall Street.

“366.65? A paper loss of $1.5 million? No problem, we still have over $3 million in collateral. I’ll be there soon…”

After the call, Milo considered briefly and then rang his father, Joseph.

“Old man, are you sure about the Fed’s rate cut announcement today?”

“Alright, alright. I’m not doubting you. Don’t worry, I’m not going overboard, just a small play. And besides, at least 80% of your colleagues are doing the same thing, right? Hey, even you were into it; Grandpa told me so!”

“And this is a satellite phone; no worries about eavesdropping! David and the team checked – no bugs here! If anything, the concern is on your end.”

“That’s it, Dad. I’m off to see if I have the makings of a Wall Street wolf. Bye, love you!”

“…”

Hanging up on his father’s somewhat nagging voice.

With Kenny’s assistance,

Milo dressed sharply and stepped out of the Waldorf Astoria’s executive suite.

“To the investment firm.”

Half an hour later,

He and two bodyguards were seen entering an office floor at 1001 Wall Street.

“Hey, Nelson, good morning… Oh wait, it’s almost noon. Let’s call it good afternoon then.”

Milo greeted the investment firm’s general manager with a smile.

“Good afternoon, boss.”

Nelson responded, visibly excited. “The market has shown some movement. In the half-hour since we last spoke, London gold has been climbing steadily. Our loss has shrunk to only $1 million.”

“There’s significant capital flowing into gold, a huge amount!”

“Oh?” Milo grinned. “Looks like we’re about to profit?”

That was certain. Milo thought: in two hours, the Fed would announce the year’s first rate cut.

Typically, in financial markets, a Fed rate cut signals a rise in gold prices.

By calling his father, a Congressman, Milo had learned in advance whether the Fed would cut or hike rates today.

Others with similar connections could do the same.

Remember, there are over 500 members in Congress.

Adding in other high-ranking officials, at least a thousand people had the means to learn about Fed decisions ahead of time.

When you factor in their networks and Wall Street, tens of thousands could know a day or two early.

Everyone already knew if the dollar was going to face a rate cut or hike.

At times like this, making a quick, modest profit was often straightforward.

The simplest strategy? Trading gold.

Short it on a rate hike, go long on a rate cut.

As long as greed didn’t take over, making a tidy sum was feasible.

So, after having Nelson negotiate credit lines with several banks yesterday,

That night, Milo instructed Nelson to have the company’s team of traders work through the night.

Milo directed Nelson to play the international gold market.

Known as London gold, due to its origins in London, this financial instrument had a history spanning over 300 years and a daily trade volume of around $15 trillion, equivalent to twice the size of the U.S. stock market.

The market was so vast that no single institution or financial group could easily manipulate it.

Even top global financial powerhouses would struggle without joint action.

Unless multiple global consortia banded together to control the market, even giants like Morgan or Rockefeller could end up floundering.

However, knowing market trends or insider information in advance made a quick profit very feasible.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 74: Making Money Faster on Wall Street*

The London gold market operates differently from stock exchanges worldwide due to time zone differences. It runs 24 hours a day, only pausing on weekends.

If you're willing to explore smaller markets, like those in the Middle East, where weekends aren’t observed, the London gold market and forex market effectively operate 24/7.

This time, Milo directed Nelson to use $5 million. They secured a 400x leverage from banks like Citibank, Morgan Stanley, State Street, and National City Bank.

The leverage ratio wasn’t the usual 10–80x seen in stock markets. The London gold market starts at 50x or even 100x leverage, provided automatically by platforms without application. Higher ratios, like 400x or even 1,000x, require prior approval but are usually for smaller amounts.

Financial derivatives like forex also feature such dramatic leverage.

With the credit line secured, Milo, being somewhat inexperienced, planned to bet everything. After all, both his father and his memories suggested that gold prices would rise.

However, Nelson convinced him otherwise. He explained that at 400x leverage, even a 0.25% market fluctuation could lead to a margin call or total loss.

On Wall Street and in global finance, even with clear forecasts of significant trends or events like a black swan, experts use maximum leverage but invest cautiously, leaving ample margin to avoid liquidation.

Milo heeded this advice since he wasn’t sure if his memories were reliable. Despite using the 400x leverage, they didn’t go all-in. Nelson set a safety margin and left as much room as possible for adjustments.

Even so, by the time Milo left the hotel in the morning, Paladin Investment Company was down over $1 million in floating losses. By the time he arrived at the office half an hour later, the losses had shrunk.

“This looks like someone is deliberately inducing a sell-off to capitalize on the upcoming bull run,” Nelson assessed.

Milo nodded, still learning the ropes of Wall Street’s inner workings.

Nelson multitasked, guiding the traders while explaining to Milo:

“Leverage in the London gold market is exceptionally high because of low price volatility and steep entry requirements. Without leverage, the minimum trade is one lot, equivalent to 100 ounces of gold.

At $370 per ounce, 100 ounces cost over $37,000. Without leverage, participation would be out of reach for most.”

Paladin Investment’s $5 million was allocated as $3 million for margin and $2 million for operations. After leveraging at 400x, they had $800 million in operational funds, enough to buy 22,000 lots.

If they had bought in fully, the overnight fluctuations would have caused multiple liquidations.

Nelson’s approach involved incrementally buying a few hundred lots every time the price dipped by 5 basis points, ensuring they stayed within the margin limits.

By 1 PM, the market began to reflect the anticipated bullish trend triggered by the U.S. Federal Reserve's interest rate cut. The upward momentum had started.

By 1:30 PM, the 50+ accounts that had been in the red overnight began showing small profits.

At 2 PM, the Federal Reserve announced the year’s first rate cut, spurring a surge in international spot gold prices.

By 5 PM, Milo’s account had grown to $450 million in assets, of which $440 million was borrowed. His net profit, after repaying the principal and interest, stood at $5.8 million.

“Over $5 million profit in just over a day?”

Milo was astonished at how fast money could be made. It was no wonder the U.S. economy leaned toward finance rather than manufacturing—making money this way felt like an avalanche of cash.

In comparison, a $100 million manufacturing project might struggle to make $5 million in a year.

Nelson’s strategy wasn’t complex—buy on dips, hold during rallies. Only once did a sharp 14-basis-point drop nearly cause liquidation, but additional margin saved the position.

High leverage is thrilling but demands constant vigilance.

By the end of January, as New York remained gripped by winter’s chill, Milo left the trading floor at dusk, stepping into a bustling Wall Street alive with lights and activity.

Inside, Nelson and the traders were prepared to stay round-the-clock, anticipating further profits in the next two days.

Meanwhile, Milo greeted Monica, who had waited for him for hours.

Making money was for employees. If he had to personally handle everything, what was the point of being the boss?

“Nelson, work hard and make me proud. Let’s aim for even more Hollywood dates next year!”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 75: Going Big

New York City at around 7 PM was a sight to behold, with its dazzling lights and a cyberpunk-like metropolis vibe.

After grabbing a casual meal at a restaurant on Wall Street, Milo, who didn’t know many people in the area, decided to return to his hotel for the evening.

A Cadillac sedan cruised through the streets of Manhattan, soon vanishing into the snowy night and the neon glow.

Back at the Waldorf Astoria on Park Avenue, David, Kenny, and two others settled into their respective rooms.

Milo and Monica shared an executive suite.

In the bedroom, Milo undressed and changed into a bathrobe before stepping into the steamy bathroom.

He climbed the marble steps to the pristine, smooth bathtub, testing the water temperature with his foot. It was just right. Milo sank into the warm water, letting it relax his entire body and ease his fatigue.

After his bath, Milo walked out of the bathroom in his robe. Monica, now dressed in a maid outfit, approached with a cup of rich, aromatic coffee.

Taking the coffee, Milo smiled at Monica and said, “Thank you,” before making his way to the living room sofa. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV.

Monica had also arranged for a platter of fresh fruit and a tray of nuts as post-dinner snacks for Milo.

Refreshed from his bath, Milo felt energized. He reclined on the sofa, holding Monica close and occasionally taking the fruit or nuts she handed him.

One of his hands roamed across Monica’s soft, supple body.

He even gave it a playful squeeze, estimating its weight to be around one to one and a half pounds.

F-grade weight, he mused.

With the remote in the other hand, he flipped through channels until he couldn’t find anything that interested him.

Finally, Milo wrapped his arm around Monica and led her back to the bedroom, where he spread his arms and fell backward onto the large bed.

“Hey, tonight I want to see you ride. Show me that move from behind,” Milo teased.

Monica shot him a flirtatious glance.

Obediently, she shrugged off her robe, revealing her inviting, flawless figure, and turned down the bedside lamp before straddling him.

With a soft moan, they joined together once more.

---

At dawn, Milo awoke early.

After washing up, he stood by the bed and glanced at Monica, who was sleeping soundly, even letting out soft snores.

There were faint dark circles under her beautiful eyes.

Forget it, Milo thought, deciding on a different kind of morning exercise.

He changed into a snug, thermal running outfit. Over his top, he wore a hoodie, and his fitted running pants outlined his leg muscles. With black Nike shock-absorbing running shoes, he was ready for a morning jog.

Ever since his rebirth, Milo took great care of his body, even if he indulged recklessly when it came to women.

But he always maintained his exercise routine.

Whether it was swimming, jogging, or following a plan laid out by a professional trainer, he stayed committed.

As soon as he exited the Waldorf Astoria, Milo pulled up his hoodie.

He glanced at the snow-covered streets and started jogging, accompanied by David and Kenny, crossing the road towards Central Park.

Soon enough, they arrived at Central Park.

In the winter, the park was barren, with trees stripped of leaves and a blanket of dried, yellowed foliage on the grass.

Two squirrels hopped around on a black bench, unafraid as Milo and the others jogged past, continuing their playful antics.

Milo exhaled rhythmic puffs of white breath, focused on maintaining a steady stride.

Other joggers in Central Park weren’t surprised by the sight of Milo and his team.

After all, this was Manhattan, where billionaire morning runners with bodyguards weren’t an uncommon sight.

With sweat glistening on his forehead, Milo kept running through Central Park without stopping.

David and Kenny followed close behind. “Whew, boss, has he been running for an hour now?” Kenny asked, breathing hard.

“Yeah, he’s been slacking a bit with his workouts lately. For the past six months, if he’s not indulging with women, his schedule’s pretty disciplined,” David replied.

“The boss is still young. It’s understandable. Once he reaches our age, he’ll realize women are only a distraction that slows you down,” Kenny said with a chuckle.

“Alright, keep up,” David said, smiling as the cold wind bit at his face.

“Got it.”

Kenny nodded, pulling a walkie-talkie from his pocket. “Triangle formation, stay close to the boss, and keep an eye on the streets. Support teams, maintain a fifty-meter distance.”

Unlike typical bodyguards of the rich, Kenny and David were elites.

Kenny had been a CIA agent before being personally chosen by Milo’s grandfather to join the Secret Service.

When the administration changed, Kenny left the service and became Robin’s bodyguard.

Later, he was reassigned to Los Angeles to become Milo’s bodyguard.

While David had started out with the Plymouth Police Department before joining the Blackburn family as a bodyguard, Kenny’s expertise in high-level security set him apart.

---

4 PM.

Wall Street.

The nearly 900-meter-long Wall Street was surrounded by skyscrapers that housed some of the nation’s and the world’s top financial institutions, municipal departments, banks, and insurance companies.

Standing at the floor-to-ceiling window in the chairman’s office at Paladin Investments, Milo could pick out many notable financial buildings across the street.

23 Wall Street, the Manhattan Chase Bank Building.

In a few years, it would merge with Morgan and Rockefeller interests to become the JPMorgan Chase Tower.

Nearby, 37 Wall Street, home to the American Trust Company.

45 Wall Street, the Toronto Dominion Bank Building.

63 Wall Street, the Brown Brothers building. 75 Wall Street, the Harriman Trust…

Milo lifted his head, looking at the dark, cloudy sky, then glanced down at the stream of people below—small, hurried, and mechanical.

“Boss, the JP Morgan reps are here,” Monica said as she entered, wearing a white blouse with a large lapel. The previously open neckline revealed a hint of her purple lace undergarment and her ample cleavage.

Perhaps in preparation for their guests, she had adjusted her appearance. The neckline was now more conservative, and she wore a fitted black blazer.

Her short pencil skirt, however, and the garter clips and lace-trimmed stockings peeking out from underneath, were still enough to spark the imagination.

Milo frowned slightly. He was satisfied with Monica’s outfit but knew it might leave a negative impression on others.

“Change into a longer skirt. This is Wall Street, not Hollywood. You’re Belucci’s secretary now, not actress Monica,” Milo reprimanded sternly.

“Oh…” she answered obediently, but as she turned, she made a playful face.

Inwardly, Monica grumbled, But you didn’t complain when you had your hands all over me in the car!

And now you disapprove. Typical man.

---

In the meeting room.

After a few pleasantries with the JP Morgan team, they got straight to business.

Loans. Milo was seeking a loan.

And JP Morgan wasn’t the only bank at Paladin Investments today.

Representatives from Boston’s First National Bank, State Street, Citibank, Wells Fargo, and now JP Morgan were all present.

Milo was leveraging his stocks in various Silicon Valley companies, as well as shares in his media and film enterprises.

He sought a total of four hundred million dollars in loans from the five banks.

This was Wall Street, one of the most efficiency-driven places in the world.

And here, every major global bank had a branch.

All the necessary procedures for the loan had been completed; only Milo’s signature was needed.

(End of Chapter)