Golden Spoon Investor

At the request of Donald Trump, who was eager to receive the payment as soon as possible, both parties met the following afternoon to finalize the contract.

In a small conference room at the Plaza Hotel, adorned in a grand and ornate Baroque style with a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling, representatives from both sides sat facing each other across a long table.

Although the contract had already been meticulously reviewed and drafted by Landon and the fund's legal advisors, Seok-won gave it one final look before picking up his fountain pen and signing it.

Trump, seated across from him, also signed the contract. After they exchanged copies, Landon spoke up.

"With this, the contract is now complete. As of this moment, it is legally binding, and per our agreement, the acquisition payment of 350 million dollars will be transferred in full to Trump Company's account by the end of today, without any initial deposit."

Upon hearing that the payment would be made in a lump sum, Trump couldn't hide his delight, his face breaking into a broad smile.

It was understandable—he had been facing significant financial pressure after a series of ambitious large-scale real estate development projects had failed, leaving him struggling with loan repayments.

Of course, considering the debt he had accumulated, even receiving 350 million dollars would be a temporary relief at best, but it would still buy him some breathing room.

Rising from his seat, Trump walked around the table, extended his hand, and said,

"Congratulations on becoming the new owner of one of New York's finest jewels, the Plaza Hotel."

Seok-won also stood up, smiling as he shook hands with him.

"Thank you."

"This building has always been a trophy symbolizing success to me. If circumstances had been different, I would never have sold it. But now that it's done, I hope you manage the hotel well."

With a hint of regret in his expression, Trump glanced around the room, taking in the chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the lavishly decorated walls and floors. His eyes reflected a mix of emotions.

"Even though you've sold the hotel, we will always welcome you as a top VIP guest. Please feel free to visit anytime."

"Thank you," Trump replied, his voice tinged with bittersweet emotion.

Watching him, Seok-won suddenly remembered something and asked,

"Oh, by the way, I heard you're quite an avid golfer."

"That's right. Whenever I have time, I hit the course. I have a handicap of 3 and an average score of 75."

At the mention of his favorite pastime, Trump's mood instantly lifted, his earlier gloom vanishing.

That was an impressive score—bordering on professional level—so it was understandable that he took pride in it.

"In terms of golf skills, he's probably the best among all U.S. presidents in history."

Although not yet elected, Trump was already famous for his passion for golf—he had owned more than a dozen large golf courses before even running for office.

"Just look at how far people would go to impress him—Japan's prime minister literally tumbled into a sand bunker trying to keep up during a round of diplomatic golf. No further explanation needed."

Snapping back from his thoughts, Seok-won smiled and said,

"Then, I assume you're familiar with Richard Malles?"

"Oh, of course! He's a golf legend—the only player to have achieved a career Grand Slam three times, winning all four major men's golf championships."

"As expected, you know him well."

"Haha! Anyone who plays golf knows Richard Malles. He may be overshadowed by Tiger Stone, but no one can deny that he's one of the greatest pro golfers of the 20th century."

Now fully engaged in the conversation, Trump became animated, speaking passionately about golf.

Seok-won, sensing he had struck the right chord, pretended not to know much and made an offer.

"I'm playing a round with Richard Malles at the Miami golf course next weekend. If you're free, why don't you join us?"

"Oh! Really? Would that be alright?"

Trump's eyes sparkled as he asked,

"One of the original players had something come up, so a spot unexpectedly opened. If someone as skilled as you were to join, it would be a pleasure."

"Well, if there's too much of a skill gap between players, a round of golf isn't as fun. And this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to play with Richard Malles—I can't possibly pass that up. I'll definitely be there."

Seeing Trump take the bait so easily, Seok-won inwardly rejoiced and allowed himself a small smile.

"Then, I'll see you next weekend."

"Haha, sounds good."

With a broad grin, Trump nodded enthusiastically.

With the contract successfully finalized, Seok-won parted ways with Trump and left the conference room, heading upstairs to the penthouse.

As he unbuttoned his jacket with one hand and settled onto the living room sofa, Landon, who had followed him, took a seat to his left and spoke.

"Since the weekend is coming up, all the paperwork, including the property registration, should be completed by the end of next week."

"Make sure everything is handled properly, Landon."

"Of course."

Seok-won crossed one leg over the other and asked for confirmation,

"Richard Malles is definitely booked, right?"

"Yes. We secured his schedule for the 13th with a payment of $100,000 to his management team."

"Good work."

Landon hesitated for a moment before cautiously speaking up.

"But I'm wondering—do we really need to go this far just to build a relationship with Trump?"

It was a fair question, and Seok-won smirked slightly.

"Does it seem like a waste of money?"

Landon quickly waved both hands.

"No, that's not what I meant. I just don't see why you, of all people, need to go out of your way to form a connection with him."

Donald Trump was a real estate developer who, years from now, would achieve the near-impossible—riding a wave of nationwide fame from his media appearances all the way to the White House.

But that was far off in the future. At present, he was nothing more than an ordinary developer, making it reasonable for Landon to question the effort being put into befriending him.

By contrast, Seok-won was a major player on Wall Street, one of the most influential investors in the financial world—someone far beyond Trump's league in terms of wealth and power.

Logically speaking, it should have been the other way around—Trump should have been the one trying to gain favor with Seok-won, not the other way around.

"Think of it as an investment," Seok-won said.

Landon's puzzled expression deepened.

Seok-won clasped his hands together, resting them on his knee, and gave him a knowing smile.

"You never know. Trump might become a major figure one day, and this relationship we're building now could turn out to be incredibly valuable."

"Honestly, that seems pretty unlikely to me," Landon replied, still skeptical.

His reaction was natural—after all, he didn't know the future the way Seok-won did. Rather than try to convince him, Seok-won simply changed the subject.

"Anyway, I heard the Enron stock acquisition is complete?"

Landon, now focused, nodded slightly and answered,

"Yes. As per your instructions, we secured a 10% stake in Enron Energy for $120 million."

"What's the average price per share?"

"$13.11 per share."

Securing a stake in Enron at a bargain price—an asset that, along with Cisco, would skyrocket during the dot-com bubble—brought a satisfied smile to Seok-won's face.

"During the recent crash, Enron Energy's stock took a major hit, allowing us to significantly lower our average acquisition cost."

"That's great. The cheaper we buy, the better."

Seok-won leaned back comfortably in his seat.

"We're going to hold onto the Enron Energy shares long-term, just like Cisco. Make sure they're managed separately."

"Understood. By the way, Enron Energy has offered us a seat on their board. How should we respond?"

Seok-won frowned slightly.

"Didn't we already make it clear that this is a purely financial investment, with no intention of interfering in management?"

After Eldorado Fund's aggressive stock accumulation, Enron Energy had panicked and reached out, wanting to understand their intentions.

Seok-won had instructed Landon to assure them that the fund was only acquiring a 10% stake for investment purposes—nothing more.

"They're probably feeling uneasy about us becoming the second-largest shareholder. Offering a board seat before we make any demands seems like a preemptive move to establish a friendly relationship."

Even though Seok-won had explicitly stated they had no interest in management, from Enron's perspective, having Eldorado Fund suddenly appear as a major shareholder was bound to be unsettling.

"So, they're tossing us a piece of candy to keep us happy before we start making demands?"

"Something like that. But if we accept, it would give us direct insight into the company's inner workings. That could be an advantage for us."

"Which is exactly why we can't accept."

"Excuse me?"

Landon blinked, his face filled with confusion.

A few years from now, Enron Energy would go down in history for orchestrating the largest and most catastrophic accounting fraud scandal in the U.S., marking the final collapse of the dot-com bubble.

The company would commit $1.5 billion in financial fraud, sending shockwaves through Wall Street and the American economy. Its executives would stand trial and receive prison sentences exceeding 24 years.

If Eldorado Fund were part of Enron's board when the scandal broke, there was no doubt they'd be caught in the crossfire.

Worse, if they profited by selling off their stake before the fraud was exposed, it would only invite further scrutiny.

'What are they trying to do, get me thrown in prison?'

There was no way Seok-won was going to put himself in a situation where he might end up in court.

His expression hardened as he firmly rejected the offer.

"We bought Enron Energy purely as an investment. Decline the board seat. And I'll say this again—do not get involved in management. Just receive the standard reports and leave them alone."

It was an odd directive—one that seemed to lack any strategic rationale.

Landon found it strange but didn't press further. In the grand scheme of Eldorado Fund's portfolio, $120 million was a drop in the ocean.

"…Understood."

Seok-won cleared his throat slightly before glancing around the penthouse.

"And from now on, this penthouse is off-limits for reservations. I want exclusive use of it."

One of the main reasons for acquiring the Plaza Hotel was to secure a personal residence in New York, so this was a natural decision.

"Oh, and did General Manager McGregor accept the offer?"

"I was just about to bring that up. When I spoke with General Manager McGregor, he said he has a deep attachment to the Plaza Hotel. If given the opportunity to stay, he's more than willing to continue working hard."

"That's great. Having started as a bellboy and worked here for over twenty years, he knows the hotel better than anyone—he's the perfect person for the job."

"Absolutely. If he had declined, we would have needed to find someone else, but it wouldn't have been easy to replace him. Plus, I looked into it separately—his reputation among the hotel staff is excellent."

"I'm not surprised."

Seok-won nodded slightly as he recalled the professionalism McGregor had displayed every time he had stayed at the penthouse.

"Then let's proceed as planned—leave the hotel's management entirely in McGregor's hands."

"Understood."

Neither Seok-won nor Landon had any experience in hotel operations, so rather than meddling ineffectively, it was far better to entrust everything to a seasoned professional.