Forging America: My Campaign Manager is Roosevelt

Chapter 335 - 163: Steel and Gold

"I need to ensure my investment stays on course."

"You’re a wild horse, Leo. You have strength, but you’re prone to losing control."

"I don’t need you to follow my orders, but I do need you to stay within my sight."

"That’s the price."

She wasn’t demanding a direct financial return. She was demanding the right to information and influence over Leo himself.

She wanted to keep that leash firmly in her own hands.

Leo didn’t answer immediately.

He looked into Evelyn’s eyes.

There was no flicker of emotion in them, only a rational, almost ruthless calculation.

’A report every two weeks.’

’It sounded like a subordinate reporting to their superior.’

Leo’s instincts screamed at him to refuse.

But for a politician who had already prepared himself mentally, restraining his instincts was a fundamental skill.

Leo took a deep breath, expelling all emotion from his chest and filling the void with the fuel of ambition.

"Deal," Leo said.

Evelyn’s hand slid from his shoulder, stopping on his chest.

Her fingers hooked onto Leo’s dark blue tie.

Evelyn frowned.

"And one more thing."

She released him, dusting her hands off with disgust as if she’d touched something dirty.

"Change your tie."

"Your taste is awful."

"The next time you see me, dress like a real Mayor, not an insurance salesman."

Leo glanced down at his tie and couldn’t help but chuckle.

He was struck by her peculiar aura.

"I’ll consider it."

Leo straightened his tie and stood up.

"Well then, I’ll see you in two weeks, Miss Saint Claude."

"See you in two weeks."

Evelyn sat back down in her chair.

Leo said nothing more, not even a goodbye.

He turned and walked out of the oppressive study, strode through a long gallery lined with portraits of the Saint Claude Family’s ancestors, and stepped out the main doors of the manor.

The night air hit his face.

Leo stood on the steps of the portico and glanced back at the brightly lit Victorian mansion behind him.

In the darkness, the manor looked like a great beast perched atop the hill, surveying all creation.

His mind was racing with the grand blueprint that was about to unfold.

The plans that had once existed only on paper, the projects shelved due to lack of funding, the concepts that needed connections to get off the ground—now, with the Saint Claude Family in the game, they had all become tangible realities.

’He really hadn’t expected it.’

’That his crude sketch of a "regional credit loop" could actually lure out a century-old crocodile from such deep waters.’

It was a pleasant surprise, but one that came with enormous risk.

’Evelyn Saint Cloud. This woman was even harder to handle than Morganfield.’

But Leo wasn’t afraid.

On the contrary, the thrill a gambler feels after being dealt a good hand was surging through his veins.

He’d done business with Demons like Morganfield. He’d rolled around in the mud. His nerves had been forged as hard as steel.

’Cooperation?’

’Of course, they would cooperate.’

’But if Evelyn thought she could tame him with capital and prestige, that giving him resources would turn him into her puppet, then she had another thing coming.’

’If she wasn’t interested in a sincere partnership, but instead planned to swallow him whole, skin and bones...’

’...then Leo was confident he could shatter all her teeth before she swallowed, then cut his way out of her belly.’

A black sedan glided to the steps.

Leo pulled the door open and slid into the back seat.

"Back to Pittsburgh," Leo ordered the driver, a sense of urgency in his voice.

The car started up, its tires crunching over the gravel drive as it turned onto a dark, tree-lined lane.

"Mr. President."

Leo leaned back against the seat, watching the shadows of the trees fly past the window.

"You were right."

"She really is that ray of sunshine."

"But this ray of light is a bit blinding. It even burns to the touch."

Roosevelt’s laughter echoed in his mind.

"Blinding is good."

"The gentle light of a greenhouse can’t grow a towering tree."

"Only the fiercest sun and the most fertile soil can produce the hardest wood."

Roosevelt’s voice paused, his tone suddenly turning playful.

"However, Leo, since you’ve already sold half your soul, why not consider selling the whole thing?"

"What do you mean?" Leo frowned.

"I’m talking about you and that Miss Saint Claude."

Roosevelt began to analyze.

"Look at her. Young, in power, monstrously clever, and in possession of Pennsylvania’s oldest political assets."

"Now look at you. Young, ambitious, holding the keys to power, and on the rise."

"In the world of politics, besides an exchange of interests, there is only one other kind of alliance that is truly close and unbreakable."

"And that is marriage."

"If you could turn this alliance into a marital one, you wouldn’t need to report to her every two weeks. The Saint Claude Family’s entire resources would automatically become your campaign fund."

"Now *that* is the most efficient consolidation of resources."

Leo was speechless.

’He rolled his eyes, though only in his mind.’

"That’s enough, Mr. President."

Leo cut off the President’s wild train of thought.

"I’m not interested in talking about selling myself for a good price, not even to a so-called great family."

"I’ve already sold the port, sold my principles, and even sold half my life."

"What little I have left, I’d like to keep for myself."

He didn’t want to dwell on the topic any longer.

That was the power game of Philadelphia, the marriage machinations of the great families.

And he belonged to Pittsburgh.

He belonged to that smoke-filled world of sweat and clanging steel.

Leo closed his eyes, banishing Evelyn’s beautiful, cold face from his mind.

His mind refilled with data, project schedules, and unfulfilled promises.

’I have to go back,’ Leo told himself.

’The workers are waiting. The factories are waiting.’

’My work is in Pittsburgh.’

The car accelerated into the night.

The lights of Philadelphia faded in the rearview mirror, and ahead, the dawn of Pittsburgh was waiting.