51-55

Chapter 51: The Era Where Creativity Equals Currency

In the conference room, Wendy led the negotiation team, relentlessly pointing out that Yahoo had yet to turn a profit.

Milo could see the discomfort on the faces of David Filo and Jerry Yang.

The present wasn't the future.

After the turn of the millennium, it became normal for internet companies worldwide to hemorrhage money.

As long as market share grew and users accumulated, losses in the hundreds of millions—or even billions—were acceptable, and investors would still pour in money.

But in this era, a company that had been around for nearly two years without making a single penny in profit was a hard sell.

Before this, Netscape was the only real success story.

This was the core of Yahoo's struggle to assert itself.

Milo stayed silent, observing the negotiations. The process wasn't overly drawn out; after an initial clash, emotions began to calm on both sides.

Everyone understood there were limits to their bargaining positions, but no one wanted to be the first to compromise.

The turning point came when it came to equity.

David Filo and Jerry Yang hoped to gain more shares, but Milo stood firm at 30%. Their hopes for a better deal were dashed.

“Don’t look so glum,” Milo said with a smile, noticing their darkened expressions.

“I’ll show you some of my ideas. I’m confident that once you’ve seen them, you won’t be so fixated on this percentage. Yahoo’s potential is enormous.”

Milo motioned for Wendy to distribute portions of two prepared creative documents to Filo and Yang.

A few minutes later...

“Good heavens, Milo!” David Filo exclaimed, looking up in awe. “You shouldn’t be a writer or director; you should be our creative director! Your mind is incredible!”

Milo hid his thoughts. His investment in Yahoo was purely for profit. Once Yahoo went public and its market value peaked, he planned to sell his shares gradually.

Portal websites were important in the early days of the internet, but as more people became skilled at using the web and search engines matured, portals would no longer dominate as the primary way people accessed the internet.

Technology advances, and so do the tools people use. Today, portals were cutting-edge, but in a few years, search engines and social applications would take center stage.

Unless Milo took over Yahoo and made it his core business, the company would inevitably decline in value, regardless of how it fared in investments.

“Thanks for the compliment,” Milo said with a chuckle. “When it comes to creativity, honestly, no one understands it better than I do. But I prefer a freer lifestyle and don’t want to be tied to just one company.”

Pausing, he continued, “The document mentions an entertainment application I call ‘web games.’ I’ve already assembled a design team, and implementing it won’t be too challenging—it's primarily about interactive images and text.”

“I think you can see its potential, so there’s no need for me to say more. I’ve brought along the person heading the development team. If you offer the right price, everything in that folder can belong to Yahoo.”

“Oh, by the way, what you’ve seen is only a part of the full concept. The complete version is still in my hands.”

The so-called web game was Milo’s way of embedding his own interests within Yahoo.

He wanted Yahoo to promote a newly established gaming company under his name. As the world’s leading portal, Yahoo was the most visited website globally.

The product Milo wanted Yahoo to promote was an online browser game called Galactic Empire.

Though online games had existed since as early as 1978 with MUD (created by Richard Bartle and Roy Trubshaw), they were limited to privileged academic circles.

The true golden age of online gaming wouldn’t arrive until the widespread adoption of the internet between 1990 and 2010.

Meanwhile, companies like Blizzard Entertainment—recently renamed from Silicon & Synapse—were already making strides with games like Warcraft II: Tides of Darkness.

“Of course, you’re free to decline,” Milo said nonchalantly, noticing their increasingly troubled expressions. “In that case, I’ll take this to Microsoft. I’m sure Bill Gates would consider my creativity and investment.”

At this, Filo and Yang looked as if they had swallowed something foul.

Finally, Filo spoke reluctantly, “Fine. You win. Damn it—we’ll consult with Sequoia Capital.”

Milo smiled, undeterred. “No problem. Even if Sequoia doesn’t agree, it’s not an issue. There are plenty of startups in Silicon Valley, and technical challenges are never insurmountable. What the internet needs most is creativity and the ability to execute it.”

The negotiations resumed with fervor, and though tensions rose over the minutiae of equity distribution, progress was made.

Yahoo’s future potential profits—beyond ad revenue—became clear. Milo’s idea of embedding games into Yahoo’s site, coupled with monetization options, was a visible second revenue stream.

If realized, Yahoo’s IPO dream would be within reach.

Eventually, a deal was struck. If Sequoia agreed, Yahoo’s future equity distribution would be 60% shared between Sequoia and the founders, with Milo holding 40%, up from his original 35%.

Negotiations over. Both sides prepared for the next stage.

*(End of Chapter)*

*Chapter 52: The California Consortium*

This trip to San Francisco wasn’t just about Yahoo.

Milo mainly came to consolidate the shares of companies he owned in the area.

By utilizing cross-holding structures through offshore shell companies, and with advice from his think tank, Milo managed to avoid substantial taxes.

Well, legally avoid taxes. He felt no guilt about it.

After all, his methods were nothing compared to those of major American corporations. If anything, he was a saint in comparison.

At least he still paid some taxes.

In the U.S., many multinational corporations run at a perpetual loss on paper, just to avoid or minimize taxes.

Once this consolidation was complete, Milo would have better oversight over all the companies he owned.

This would protect him from being deceived or sidelined by professional managers.

Such situations weren’t unheard of.

The most notorious examples came from trust funds.

At first glance, trust funds seemed reliable, appearing to be an ideal way to preserve wealth across generations.

However, the reality was that no trust fund had managed to sustain itself for more than a decade without incurring losses.

Typically, after the founder of a trust fund passed away, the beneficiaries—usually the descendants of the founder—would inherit it.

Most of them lacked the ability to oversee the fund managers effectively.

And without proper oversight, many fund managers would inevitably embezzle the funds, using various schemes to siphon off the wealth.

This would lead the trust into insolvency and eventual bankruptcy.

True American elites didn’t rely on trust funds; they used the more advanced model of charitable foundations.

Trust funds were a financial tool designed by capitalists to exploit those "lower-tier" wealthy individuals who couldn’t set up charitable foundations but still had significant assets to their name.

After the consolidation, Milo only needed to appoint two or three trusted individuals to key positions.

For instance, someone like Wendy, a peripheral member nurtured by the Blackburn family.

Even if Milo decided to be a hands-off owner, the think tank composed of family elites could step in as trustees, ensuring proper management and oversight.

Of course, Milo wasn’t that lazy. This reorganization was also part of a larger plan to prepare for potential future developments, such as breaking up the companies, merging them into a conglomerate, or going public to raise funds.

After all, the capital market was ruthless. Unless Milo chose to self-finance his ventures indefinitely, raising external capital would be inevitable. Preparing to guard against hostile takeovers or losing control was a necessity.

Naturally, the grunt work fell to his subordinates over the past few days.

With the help of a legal team, all Milo had to do was sign documents or grant authorizations.

His real focus was elsewhere.

---

In downtown San Francisco, on Malrock Avenue, Milo’s convoy cruised along.

“Mr. Wilson is aware of your arrival,” Wendy, seated in the front passenger seat, said softly. “The Honorable Viscount Brewey mentioned that he’s waiting for you at the Wilson residence on Nob Hill.”

Milo nodded, his gaze fixed on the window. “Edward will be there too, right?”

“Yes,” Wendy replied truthfully.

Edward Wilson was Milo’s elder cousin and had a close relationship with Paladin.

In fact, it was rare for anyone to have a poor relationship with Paladin—at least if they had ever interacted with him.

Edward was the grandson of Viscount Schneider Wilson of England and the brother of Milo’s grandmother, Sally Wilson Blackburn.

A few days ago, when Milo was attacked, he had called home. His second call was to this cousin.

Edward later expressed his intention to visit Milo at his Beverly Hills residence but never showed up.

When Schneider Wilson, Milo’s great-uncle, learned about Milo’s trip to San Francisco, he extended an invitation for Milo to visit the Wilson family residence in the city.

“Wendy, guess why Edward didn’t meet me last time,” Milo asked as the convoy passed a hillside park.

Looking out, Milo saw well-dressed gentlemen and ladies walking in the park, often accompanied by their long-haired or short-haired dogs, basking in the California sunshine.

This was Huntington Park in Nob Hill, a stark contrast to the homeless-filled Washington Square Park in North Beach.

Nob Hill, the highest point in downtown San Francisco, was the city’s most aristocratic district.

“Perhaps he was tied up with something?” Wendy guessed softly.

Milo chuckled. “Let’s hope so.”

---

The convoy soon arrived at Nob Hill’s affluent neighborhood, passing ornate hotels and churches before turning into a grove.

After passing a few fenced estates, they stopped in front of a luxurious property consisting of a connected villa and an independent house.

Wendy stepped out to confirm their identity.

The gates quickly opened, and the cars filed in.

Surrounded by dense greenery, the estate sat at Nob Hill’s summit. The sprawling property featured lush lawns and verdant vegetation.

The main villa was entirely white, while the detached guest house was a wooden structure.

In front of the villa’s main entrance stood Edward, Milo’s golden-haired cousin, smiling as Milo stepped out of the car.

“Hey, dear Milo! I’m so glad to see you!” Edward greeted him warmly, pulling him into an embrace. “You have no idea how worried I was after your incident. When I heard you were okay, I was so relieved. I’m terribly sorry I couldn’t meet you that evening—something urgent came up.”

“Don’t apologize,” Milo interrupted with a smile. “It’s fine, Edward. I’m doing great. By the way, where’s Grandpa? I’m eager to see him.”

“Grandpa’s in the garden; he’s been waiting for you. Come on, let’s go meet him. Sally and Anna are here too.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Edward led the way while Milo’s staff, including Wendy, stayed behind.

Milo and Edward headed to the garden behind the villa, part of Nob Hill’s summit.

---

In 1878, when the first cable car reached this hill, two gold rush tycoons and four Pacific Railroad magnates built magnificent mansions here.

This marked the area as San Francisco’s top-tier enclave, earning its name.

One of those six tycoons was Edward’s ancestor.

These six later formed a trust, now referred to as the California Consortium.

(Chapter Ends)

Chapter 53: Rumors of the Wilson Family

"Good afternoon, Celia, Anna, and Aunt Martha."

Nob Hill, San Francisco.

The Wilson family’s ancestral home.

Facing several women of varying ages, Milo smiled and spoke warmly. He stepped forward, greeting them with hugs and cheek kisses.

Anna and Celia were Edward’s sisters, making them Milo’s cousins. Martha was Edward’s mother. Edward’s father—Joseph’s cousin and Milo’s uncle, Claude Wilson—had passed away ten years ago.

Behind the women stood their uncle, Schneider Wilson, with a kind expression, watching Milo.

Milo stepped up with a smile, greeting Schneider with a cheek kiss.

"Dear Schneider, I’m so happy to see you!"

"And I, you," Schneider replied with a warm smile. "It’s been two years since we last met, even though you’re just down in Los Angeles."

"My fault. I was too immature back then, always looking for fun," Milo admitted with a smile.

The Wilson family wielded immense influence in California. With San Francisco and Los Angeles not far apart, Schneider could have easily summoned Milo. Even in his carefree past, Milo wouldn’t have ignored such a request.

However, Milo hadn’t frequently visited Schneider in those days.

Not because Milo was foolish or impolite—those around him would have ensured he stayed close to such a significant family figure. The Wilson family dominated in California, after all.

Two years ago, when Milo visited Schneider, it was under the escort of Paladin, the family patriarch.

Milo, as an insignificant younger son, lacked inheritance rights and was seen as a pleasure-seeking playboy—an archetype often dismissed in powerful families.

But things had changed.

With Paladin’s passing, Milo was now the sole heir of the Blackburn family on the East Coast. No matter his past, Milo was the future head of the family.

The situation was akin to the hypothetical example of Hunter years later.

No matter how reckless Hunter might be, as the only male heir to the Biden family, his father’s standing would force others to respect him, even if his scandals and failures were well-known.

Milo’s difference was that after Paladin’s death, he began to show promise. Particularly in Silicon Valley and the tech sector, Milo’s capabilities had garnered attention.

"Being young and wanting to play is normal," Schneider chuckled.

"I did far crazier things at your age. Even Edward wasn’t much different back in the day."

"Grandfather..." Edward said with an exasperated shrug.

"All right, let’s not stay out here under the sun. Let’s go inside—it’s almost time for lunch," Schneider suggested with a smile.

The group had been in the side garden of the Wilson estate. Celia, Anna, and their mother Martha had been accompanying Schneider on a walk when Milo and Edward arrived, leading to their impromptu conversation.

After Lunch

After their meal, the group strolled through the estate’s wooded rear garden.

Milo and Edward accompanied Schneider, casually discussing economic matters while Celia and Anna listened with polite smiles. Martha had excused herself for a nap, feeling slightly unwell.

The Wilson estate, occupying prime real estate on Nob Hill, boasted a size and grandeur rivaling that of Beverly Hills. The expansive garden featured a small, pristine pond with visible fish and a small boat tied to the shore.

Celia and Anna sat on the rocks by the water, their bare feet dipped in the pond as they playfully moved them to attract the fish. Their laughter rang out as tiny fish nibbled at their toes.

Meanwhile, the sisters occasionally glanced at their cousin Milo, engaged in conversation with their brother Edward and grandfather.

"Celia, doesn’t Milo seem more handsome than two years ago?" Anna whispered.

At 17, Anna was Edward’s youngest sister, while Celia, at 23, was a year older than Milo.

Celia, stealing glances at Milo, replied softly, "He’s taller, even more than Edward. Anna, I think the rumors might be true."

"Rumors?" Anna tilted her head, puzzled.

"Aunt Sally’s rumors."

Anna froze for a moment before exclaiming in realization, "Oh! I think so too!" Celia chuckled in agreement.

A Serious Matter

Under the shade, Schneider settled into a chair and turned to Milo.

"Edward was planning to visit you a few days ago. He even reached the airport but returned because Martha had a health scare and needed hospitalization. He was worried about his mother, so he canceled the trip. I hope you don’t mind, Milo."

Milo nodded thoughtfully. Earlier, he had noticed that Aunt Martha seemed unwell.

"Is Aunt Martha all right now?" he asked.

After receiving reassurance, Milo smiled. "That’s good to hear. No need to worry about me. I’m fine."

"I’m glad to hear that," Schneider said. Then his tone shifted.

"I asked you to visit not just because I wanted to see you but for another reason. Milo, someone has their eyes on your Silicon Valley shares."

Milo was surprised by Schneider’s directness in broaching the topic of the internet and investments. Leaning back in his seat, he casually glanced at Edward’s expression before responding.

"The Cabrera brothers approached me," Milo admitted.

Schneider shook his head. "It’s not the people from Boston."

Milo’s gaze sharpened. "Then... is it the Littons trying to reach out through you?"

The Litton family, owners of Litton Industries, were also part of California’s financial elite. Aunt Martha was a Litton by birth, making them a plausible suspect.

Schneider shook his head again. "No, not us. Believe me, Milo, if we were interested, I’d have Edward speak to you directly."

Milo fell silent for a moment. "Then who is it?"

"Morgan Stanley."

Schneider didn’t mince words, speaking calmly. "Morgan Stanley has been discreetly reaching out to some of the Silicon Valley companies you’ve invested in. They’ve been careful and secretive, but this is California. You’re a member of the Wilson family, and we keep an eye on you. That’s how we learned of Morgan Stanley’s interest."

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 54: Each Has Their Plans*

“What do you think?”

“It’s as if he’s become a completely different person. If he weren’t so young, I’d almost believe Paladin was still alive. He looks more and more like Paladin—just taller and stronger.”

“That’s not true; he’s still not as remarkable as Paladin…”

It was still the Wilson family estate on Nob Hill.

But now it was 2 p.m., and Milo Blackburn had already left.

In the small sitting room outside Schneider’s bedroom, the old man was speaking with his grandson, Edward.

The topic of their conversation was Milo, who had visited earlier that day.

“Grandfather, are the rumors true?”

Edward continued, “Did Milo really receive divine inspiration?”

Edward’s suspicion, much like the Cabrera brothers’ recent thoughts after meeting Milo, stemmed from their long-standing acquaintance with him.

Edward knew Milo especially well, having been in contact with him during the period after he turned sixteen up until Paladin’s death.

Despite Milo’s Harvard Divinity School diploma, he had been sent to California at sixteen.

In fact, Milo had spent less than two months in total at Harvard.

While in California, Edward had been the family member representing the Wilsons in dealings with Milo.

Frankly, Milo’s influence in California was largely thanks to his connection with the Wilson family, a major local powerhouse.

Edward, being well aware of Milo’s former conduct, found Milo’s dramatic transformation reminiscent of recent headline news.

Like Victor, Edward suspected that Milo might have genuinely received divine inspiration.

This suspicion was also tied to the Blackburn family’s heritage.

The family’s ancestors had been ministers on the Mayflower, and Protestant ministers could marry.

Since then, the Blackburns had firmly rooted themselves in the religious sector.

At their peak, before American independence, over 30% of the ministers in the thirteen colonies’ churches had ties to the Blackburns.

In the early 20th century, the Blackburns shifted toward a more secular focus, but they remained a dominant force in America’s religious landscape, particularly in New England.

To Edward, the idea of a Blackburn receiving divine inspiration didn’t seem far-fetched—assuming, of course, that God truly existed.

Schneider gave his grandson a deep look and shook his head. “Who knows? But there’s one thing we must understand. With Paladin gone, we can no longer treat Milo the way we used to.”

“So that’s why you called him here today and told him about Morgan Stanley’s moves?”

Schneider nodded again. “What do you think he’ll do next?”

Edward thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Grandfather, I can’t say for sure. But I know that even we can’t gain much from going up against Morgan.”

This was a candid admission.

The California Consortium, one of America’s top ten conglomerates, was already showing signs of weakness.

The consortium was backed by prominent banking institutions like Bank of America, Western Bank, and Wells Fargo. However, unlike other major American conglomerates, whose power was built on strong industrial foundations—Rockefeller with oil, Cleveland with steel, and DuPont with chemicals—the California Consortium’s base lay in the arms industry.

Companies like Northrop, Litton Industries, and Lockheed Aircraft formed its backbone.

Yet, control over these military-industrial companies was gradually shifting into the hands of Eastern financial giants led by Morgan Stanley.

This shift in power explained Edward’s statement about the difficulty of confronting Morgan Stanley, even if it was just one part of Morgan’s massive empire.

“Let’s see what he does. The Blackburns have always tried to step out of their comfort zone. Paladin once held the greatest promise.”

Schneider smiled, then seemed to remember something. “By the way, bring Saria, Anna, and Martha in if she’s awake. I need to speak with them.”

“Grandfather, do you want Anna and the others to interact with Milo?”

Schneider nodded.

“But,” Edward frowned, “I heard the Blackburns lean more toward collaborating with the Adams family.”

“Hah, what the Adams family can offer, we can match—and more.”

Schneider massaged his forehead before adding, “Bring them in. Especially Saria. Milo looked at her five more times than he did Anna.”

With his grandfather’s insistence, Edward could only nod and go to fetch his sister and the others.

---

Meanwhile, after leaving Nob Hill, Milo quickly figured out why Morgan Stanley had set its sights on him.

Simply put, Netscape’s IPO—their initial public offering—had been handled by Morgan Stanley.

Before that, Netscape had approached several brokers and market makers, all of whom were skeptical about listing a company that was losing millions with no profits in sight.

It was through America Online’s introduction that Netscape connected with Morgan Stanley, which successfully brought the IPO to market, creating the first internet wealth phenomenon.

The 200,000 shares of Netscape stock Milo had acquired were secured through family connections to AOL.

He had spent $4 million on those shares—$20 per share.

With Netscape’s IPO price at $28.50 and its current trading price exceeding $165 per share, the investment had multiplied.

This meant Morgan Stanley, as an early driver of the internet boom, wasn’t happy about someone taking prime positions ahead of them.

Realizing this, Milo turned to Wendy, seated in the passenger seat. “Wendy, have someone keep an eye on Yahoo. Focus on the two founders—you know what I mean.”

“Understood!”

(End of Chapter)  

*Chapter 55: Waiting for Someone to Fall into the Trap*

As time passed, the Christmas spirit gradually enveloped the United States.

In the San Francisco Bay Area, with its sparse skyscrapers, the city truly came alive at night when the Christmas lights illuminated its charm.

On the afternoon of December 20, Milo and three well-dressed men walked out of an upscale restaurant.

They hugged warmly and said their goodbyes.

“Hey, Gavin, the oysters here are indeed as good as you said. But Boston’s clams aren’t bad either. Next time you're in Boston, I’ll treat you to some clam chowder.”

“Jerry, no, no, I’m afraid I can’t stay here for Christmas. You know, Christmas Eve is the time for all the Lord’s lambs to reunite. I need to go back to Massachusetts, no matter where I am.”

“Hey, Paul, send my regards to Nancy. Please thank her for her help with my companies. As I’ve said before, if I were in Massachusetts, I’d be just like you!”

“Goodbye!”

As the cars drove away, Milo let out a small, weary sigh.

He walked to his car, opened the door, and got in. Turning to David, who was acting as his driver for the day, he said, “Let’s wait a moment while I make a call.”

“Grandfather, I just met with people from Brown, Newsom, and Pelosi’s teams. To be honest, I think Edward and his crew are doing a poor job. The whole thing feels fragmented. Unlike us and some others, they can’t seem to present a united front, even with internal disagreements.”

“Not enough depth? Perhaps. Their history is indeed short. But the lack of integration—or their poor attempts at it—makes me think they’ve handled things very badly.”

“Hmm, they’re all old foxes. Nobody made any commitments, but I didn’t expect them to. I just need them to stay neutral and not intervene.”

“Afraid? Why would I be afraid? That’s merely a finger of a giant. If it were the whole body, I might reconsider. But if I were scared of just a finger, I might as well return to Plymouth and serve as a shepherd for the Lord.”

“That’s it. I’ll be back before Christmas Eve. Good afternoon and goodbye, Grandfather.”

Hanging up the phone, Milo’s face lit up with anticipation. “The trap is set. Now, let’s see who jumps in.”

He leaned back in the car, closed his eyes, and replayed his plans in his mind.

After confirming that most things were in order, he stroked his chin and opened his eyes. “David, let’s go. Back to the hotel to pack up. We’re heading to Los Angeles tonight. We’ve spent enough time in the Bay Area.”

David acknowledged and picked up a radio, pressing a button to relay instructions.

Soon, several identical black Cadillac sedans drove by.

The cars shuffled their order to confuse any observers before merging onto the main road, heading toward the InterContinental Hotel in San Francisco.

*Evening.*

*Los Angeles International Airport.*

After a short flight lasting less than two hours, Milo and his entourage, including Kenny and David, exited through the business class channel.

Wendy was already waiting outside the airport hall with several executive cars.

Inside the car, Milo looked at the recent royalties deposited into the publishing company’s account. A smile played on his lips.

To be honest, Milo really needed money right now.

Between investing in internet companies and producing movies, the funds his family provided were far from enough.

Although he could mortgage some shares of the internet companies, that money came with high-interest rates.

The family itself was also cash-strapped.

His father was in an upward political phase, and his sister-in-law, Haley, was angling for a move to Washington.

To make matters worse, the Blackburn family’s wealth was tied up in their vast tracts of land scattered across the original thirteen colonies of North America.

These lands were valuable, many located in city centers or strategic locations.

But they were ancestral properties that no one dared to sell.

Furthermore, many of these lands housed churches. Selling them would weaken Blackburn’s influence over the church, which was the family’s core strength.

It was through their influence over the church and military chaplains that the Blackburn family had secured their position in Boston’s financial elite.

This foundation couldn’t be tampered with.

He needed to make money.

For now, his films Angels & Demons and Shakespeare in Love wouldn’t generate revenue until after the New Year.

The only active cash flow came from the publishing company holding the copyright to The Da Vinci Code.

While each royalty payment wasn’t massive, they added up.

Over the past few months, combined royalties and book sales had brought in nearly $10 million.

In the U.S., being a bestselling author was highly lucrative.

Thinking about the mishap in London, Milo decided it was time to “create” his young wizard.

Beyond novels and movies, he realized he needed to explore other revenue streams.

Without sufficient cash flow, his influence in the coming internet boom would quickly diminish.

But what sector should he enter next?

Selling screenplays wasn’t viable. Hollywood’s Writers Guild had countless scripts on file.

Only scripts from established, box-office-successful writers garnered interest, and even then, prices weren’t sky-high.

Even if Milo transcribed every film in his memory and they sold well, the total revenue might only reach $100 million.

Besides, the process was tedious and time-consuming.

As for filmmaking, most of his current cash was tied up in two movies.

Scratching his head, Milo envied those with financial acumen or "cheat codes" who could profit from financial markets after reincarnating.

This was America, where finance ruled all.

While Milo vaguely remembered key financial events—like the Asian financial crisis, the Russian ruble collapse, and the 2000 Nasdaq bubble—he lacked the expertise to dive in personally.

Fortunately, like his uncle, Milo had self-awareness. He trusted the advice of his team and relied on his powerful family.

If his uncle could become President, surely Milo could become a “Stock Oracle” of Capitol Hill, right?

Smiling at the thought, Milo said to Wendy, “Wendy, I have a new task for you.”

Wendy sighed inwardly, thinking, Here we go again.  

But outwardly, he replied, “Sure, what is it?”

“I’m thinking of starting another company…”

(End of Chapter)