Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 278 A Lunch Worth $3 in Gold (4.6K)

While Larry was negotiating the arms contract with the Boers...

On the first day of May, New York was full of spring, and Broadway was bustling with traffic.

In a private room on the second floor of Delmonico, a restaurant in Lower Manhattan hailed as the crown jewel of New York's culinary scene, Saul Porter sat at the table, leisurely sipping a glass of Bordeaux. Sitting next to him was John C. Tiffany Jr., the nephew of Charles Louis Tiffany.

Compared to Mr. Potter's composure, Tiffany was a little reserved. He held his wine glass, his gaze calm, but a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth, as if anticipating a good show that was about to unfold.

“Mr. Potter, shouldn’t we wait for Cecil Rhodes to arrive before we drink?”

Potter waved his hand with a smile, "He'll definitely be late, believe me. For a nouveau riche like him, trying to show his importance, he'll always resort to these little tricks."

Little Tiffany smiled, but instead of picking up her glass, she took out her pocket watch and checked the time—it was already 12:15 noon.

Mr. Potter's appointment with Cecil Rhodes was at 12 o'clock sharp, so he was already late.

Mr. Potter calmly took a sip of red wine, then raised his glass to look at the remaining red stains on the rim, a smile spreading across his face.

Tiffany continued, "I heard your fund is raising capital. Besides Kodak, are there any other targets?"

Mr. Porter glanced at him and smiled. "Yes, I plan to invest in the De Beers jewelry store that Cecil Rhodes is planning to open in New York!"

Little Tiffany knew this was the other party's polite refusal to disclose the investment target, so she smiled and said nothing more.

In fact, they came today for Rhodes, the De Beers jewelry brand. Back in early April, it was Mr. Porter who revealed to old Tiffany the intelligence he had obtained—that this South African colonist was preparing to promote his high-end jewelry brand in New York.

Old Tiffany was shocked because if Cecil Rhodes were to take root in the United States, it would undoubtedly have an overwhelming advantage over Tiffany due to its control over upstream gold mines, gemstones, and diamonds.

Moreover, intelligence from Mr. Porter indicates that Cecil has also recruited a large number of outstanding jewelry craftsmen in Europe, who will also immigrate to the United States and become part of De Beers jewelry.

If Tiffany hadn't taken precautions and allowed De Beers jewelry to flourish, it's highly likely that Tiffany would have fallen to the status of a second-rate American jewelry brand. This is because at the time, 70% of Tiffany's inventory was supplied by De Beers.

After receiving Mr. Porter's intelligence, Tiffany Sr. demanded that the company urgently develop new sources of supply, and at the same time, she paid close attention to De Beers.

During this time, Mr. Porter also did a very good job. He joined forces with his friends in the newspaper industry and took advantage of Cecil Rhodes's mistakes in renting the house to start creating public opinion in the newspapers, which has now caused Cecil Rhodes great reputational damage.

Therefore, the difference of just one month has given Tiffany an absolute advantage. Now Tiffany is neither afraid of De Beers suddenly cutting off its supply chain, nor is it afraid of Cecil Rhodes' new jewelry store expanding in the United States—because the reputation of De Beers jewelry has plummeted along with Cecil's reputation.

Luxury goods are all about prestige and a good reputation. To get the wealthy to buy them, there must be some moral constraints.

De Beers jewelry, though not yet open for business, no longer meets the prerequisites for attracting customers.

Therefore, old Tiffany never forgot Mr. Porter, and even personally attended his fundraising events to help him raise funds.

Of course, this matter is not over yet. Today, Tiffany accompanied Mr. Potter to the luncheon with Cecil Rhodes in order to see what the latter was really thinking, so as to make further preparations.

Time passed slowly, but Mr. Potter remained concerned about his wine glass.

At 12:25, the door to the private room was respectfully pushed open by a waiter. Cecil Rhodes' tall figure appeared in the doorway. He didn't look too good, and he had a rolled-up newspaper tucked under his arm. Two bodyguards followed behind him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Rhodes!" Potter greeted him calmly.

“Mr. Potter!” Rhodes’ voice was barely contained as he strode into the room, his face showing impatience and a hint of anger.

“It was an honor to attend your luncheon. In fact, I felt your kindness towards me back in London a week ago…”

As he spoke, he slammed a stack of newspapers from under his arm onto the table.

The stack of newspapers was a mix of new and old. Porter put down his glass and casually flipped through them. Among the older newspapers were traces of time, having traveled across oceans, naturally those earlier reports such as "Blood Diamond: Revealing the Cruel Truth Behind De Beers" or "Beneath the Throne of This Empire Builder, Was It Idealism or Bones?"

Meanwhile, the new newspapers carried headlines like "Diamond King Rhodes Scams New York Landlord"...

“What do you mean?” Mr. Potter looked up and calmly gazed at Cecil Rhodes.

“Look what you’ve done! This is a huge damage to my reputation. I demand an apology from you for this false slander.” Rhodes tried to keep his voice calm, but the veins on his forehead were bulging slightly.

Mr. Potter gave a cold laugh, picked out one from the pile of newspapers—the one with the article "Diamond King Bullies Landlady"—and solemnly said to Rhodes,

“I don’t understand. Do you think I’m involved in all these reports? In fact, I only gave one interview, which is this one, and what I said is true. You promised me that I would collect the rent within seven days, but now? It’s been almost a month, and the rental season in New York is almost over.”

"Who else could it be if it wasn't you?"

Mr. Potter looked at him coldly. "I heard you were shot the morning you returned to New York... Well, I also heard this isn't the first time you've been attacked like this."

In South Africa, these assassinations are even more frequent…maybe it's them. Anyway, it's none of my business, and I wouldn't have gone to South Africa to assassinate you years ago when we didn't even know each other.”

Rhodes was speechless after hearing Mr. Potter's words. He knew perfectly well that the other party harbored ill intentions towards him, but he couldn't point it out because he himself was not entirely innocent.

Mr. Potter saw that Rhodes' face had turned red and he couldn't say anything for a long time. He just said in a low voice, "Please sit down. Let's have lunch together and talk about renting a house."

"I'm not renting that shabby house of yours anymore!" Rhodes said defiantly.

“That’s great. I remember the penalty for breach of contract was $12.5.” Porter looked at him calmly.

Rhodes was speechless again, and then sat back down in his chair.

This also subtly expresses the intention to cooperate with the other party.

"Serve the food!" Potter called to the waiter as Ross was already seated.

The dishes had been prepared for some time, and now the waiters began to bring out a variety of New York delicacies, such as oysters, grilled beef kidneys, and grilled quail.

Cecil Rhodes glanced sideways at little Tiffany and said, "Is it him? Is he the one who owns those five shops and rents out the rooms? Is this your master?"

Before Tiffany could answer, Mr. Potter continued coldly, "I've already said, this is my friend, the house isn't his, we're business partners."

Rhodes then turned his gaze away from Tiffany and fixed it on the appetizer in front of him. After a moment's hesitation, he said, "Name your price. Tell me how to end this pointless attack. I still have business to do in New York..."

Mr. Potter picked up his glass, gestured for little Tiffany to join them for dinner, and then, looking at Rhodes, said, "Mr. Cecil Rhodes, best wishes for your health and well-being... Oh, by the way, what did you say?" "I said, how much money can I spend to stop this harassment from doing business here?"

Mr. Potter raised an eyebrow. "If you're in business, that's great. Then you'll have to pay according to the lease agreement. As for your harassment claim, I'll say it again: I have no idea what you're talking about."

Rhodes looked coldly at Mr. Porter before finally saying, "You should know that there's no benefit in offending me, even in America..."

This was a blatant threat. Little Tiffany turned to look at Mr. Potter, who still appeared completely unfazed.

"Sir, please don't fall into that kind of self-persecution complex. You should know that from beginning to end, it was your unilateral breach of contract and breach of trust that caused this series of disputes. And if you still don't pay the rent on time, I will take you to the New York court."

"Betrayal? Are you sure?" Rhodes' voice rose, almost slamming his fist on the table.

“Yes! It’s precisely because I’m dealing with you that I need to emphasize the word ‘trust’,” Mr. Potter said coldly.

“I don’t care how you rose to power in South Africa through all sorts of dirty tricks, nor can I care. But you can’t use the same methods you use in Cape Town to bully us in the United States. The annual rent of $2.5 is in black and white, and you must honor the contract.”

If you choose to refuse, then so be it, and wait for the court hearing. What will the bankers and nobles who have worked with you in Cape Town, London, and Amsterdam think? Won't they also wonder if the agreement with Rhodes will become worthless at any moment due to a change in circumstances?

Mr. Potter didn't speak fast, but every word struck like a hammer blow, hitting Rhodes' most sensitive nerves.

He clearly saw the vein on Rhodes's forehead throb.

By this time, the main courses had been served, and Rhodes stared at the tenderloin steak in front of him without saying a word.

Mr. Potter sipped his drink and chatted for a few moments before raising his glass to Rhodes. "Mr. Rhodes," he said, "I don't understand why you're so confused about this. Since you're doing business in New York, you should know whether it's more important to pressure me to lower the rent, or to consider the business reputation your name, Cecil Rhodes, represents."

If these seemingly minor incidents happened in New York today—for example, you tried to defraud a kind New York landlord, and if the New York World or The Times reporters sensationalized and reported it… do you think your financing plans in the City of London would encounter a little trouble? Would your friends in Downing Street have even the slightest doubt about your reliability?

Every word Potter said was like a precise scalpel, piercing through Rhodes' seemingly solid shell of arrogance and poking into his arrogant heart.

Rhodes's face darkened again. He knew how to weigh things and that he should quickly expand the De Beers jewelry brand, but his innate arrogance and subconscious desire to take advantage of others were constantly eroding his mind.

Just as he profited through oppression and fraud in South Africa, the more he used such underhanded methods, the more path dependency he developed in handling all kinds of events.

After a long silence, Rhodes leaned back in his seat and said in a hoarse voice, "That's enough... Fine, $2.5 a year, I'll pay it now."

“No! It’s not just $2.5,” Porter said solemnly. “Sir, don’t think you can lower the price by stalling for a few days. You need to have some basic common sense: America is a free society. The reason we can speak to you fairly is because my ancestors defeated your ancestors.”

This isn't South Africa, Afghanistan, or India. Don't apply your colonial mindset to New York. You'll need to pay the price for your breach of contract. The annual rent is now 3 gold coins, payable in a lump sum over five years.

Rhodes abruptly raised his head and glared at Porter.

But Mr. Potter remained calm. He cut a piece of steak from the steak plate, put it in his mouth, chewed it slowly, and then swallowed it.

"This was written in the previous contract. Besides, you also have to pay interest on the funds I advanced for you. If you don't want to, you can choose to terminate the contract, but then you will have to pay me 12.5 yuan in penalties for breach of contract over five years... and you still won't be able to rent a house."

In short, my advice is that you should make objective choices where your interests are at stake. You have to choose between paying more money and going to court after breaching the contract.

As he spoke, Mr. Potter produced the contract bearing the Rhodes seal ring, along with a photograph of the two of them taken at his law firm.

This was a blatant threat! Cecil Rhodes clenched his fists.

But this was caused by his own greed, which ultimately trapped him in his own predicament.

Wait, am I starting to doubt myself? No, no! This isn't right. It's clearly these damn Americans who cheated!

That doesn't count; I'll get my things back.

Cecil Rhodes, his face grim, pulled out his checkbook from his pocket and, with a force that almost pierced the paper, signed a check for $15. He then handed it to his bodyguard, who in turn passed it on to Porter.

"This is a gold transfer check from Morgan Trust Bank, payable on demand. Now, can I leave this suffocating place?"

“Of course!” Potter carefully examined the check and then elegantly put it away as if it were just an ordinary business card. “Lunch has only just begun. You should at least finish this course, especially the steak or roast quail. However, since Mr. Rhodes is so busy, we cannot insist that you stay.”

Rhodes stood up, looked at Potter and Tiffany, and said coldly, "Starting tomorrow, my men will be stationed in your five shops... This matter ends here, and I hope nothing else happens!"

As he spoke, Rhodes strode away without waiting for them to reply.

The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the private room.

Mr. Porter felt the $15 gold coin check in his shirt pocket and smiled, thinking to himself, "Larry's always wanted gold coins, hasn't he? Here comes the hard currency!"

Little Tiffany then gently raised her glass to Potter, saying, "Mr. Potter did a wonderful job; I could almost hear his heart breaking."

Porter clinked glasses with him and smiled, “This is just the beginning, Mr. Tiffany. When his ‘noble’ brand, wrapped in cheap South African diamonds, lands in New York, you’ll truly understand what suffocation is.”

The two exchanged a smile, drank their wine, and understood each other without saying a word.

At the same time, Cecil Rhodes strode out of the Delmonico restaurant. The midday sun shone on his face, but he felt no warmth, only a bone-chilling cold and humiliation.

Surrounded by bodyguards, he got into the luxurious carriage that was waiting outside.

"Let's go!"

The carriage started moving slowly, and Rhodes leaned back in the leather seat, his chest heaving violently.

15 gold coins! Damn, that's 15 gold coins!
I, Cecil Rhodes, have been utterly humiliated in New York by some nobody and his agent.

“Potter, and that damn guy behind you…” Rhodes spat out the words through gritted teeth, his eyes gleaming with a venomous light, “You think you’ve won everything just because you’ve won today? How laughable!”

Rhodes secretly vowed to make those two pay a hundredfold, a thousandfold, for their arrogance and rudeness today!
He knew that New York was a murky place, and that his specialty was fishing in troubled waters.

Even more than that, he will not only slack off! He will also use his special position among these foreign investors in the United States to stir up trouble!
He looked out the window at the houses and people in Midtown Manhattan and thought to himself,
"You damned bastards who reject the glory of the British Empire, sooner or later we will make you pay the price!"

(End of this chapter)