Fourfold Return

Tom leaned in to get a clear look at the numbers, then whistled. "George and his people really did hold their noses and swallow it. It didn't reach one billion, but it's still a full seventy million more than the eight hundred sixty million they insisted on at first. Funny thing is, that seventy-million gap is enough to fill in the books for several Silicon Valley startups."

Nakayama Takuya put down the newspaper and took the fax.

The end of the document bore the signatures of Goldman Sachs's partners. Wall Street's investment-banking elites had taken one step back in this round of maneuvering.

"Quit while we're ahead." Nakayama Takuya tossed the document onto the coffee table. "If we really drive them into a corner, Morgan Stanley taking over will need time to run the process again. Dragging this out isn't worth it for us."

Frank pulled out a chair and sat down, letting out a long breath. "Boss, that psychological warfare of yours really paid off. When I was facing off against George in the lounge, my back was drenched in sweat. I was terrified he'd flip the table on the spot and walk out."

"People on Wall Street value profits above all." Nakayama Takuya lifted his coffee and took a sip. "They calculated the cost of breach. Losing the underwriting rights to the first internet stock would hurt Goldman Sachs far more than satisfying our demand for a price increase. This is an open scheme."

Tom clapped his hands, cutting off their debrief. "Since the price is set, the listing date stays the same: March 21. Time to get to work, gentlemen."

Frank stood and walked toward the mountain of documents piled on the desk. "Nobody's sleeping tonight. Tomorrow we submit the final prospectus to the SEC. The offering