by Nele Neuhaus
Alex wasn’t quite sure whether she liked the proposal, but she slowly realized why Levy had invited her here today. He wanted to test her willingness to cross legal boundaries, to judge the extent of her moral scruples.
“Just slightly illegal, isn’t it?” she said nonchalantly, and smiled.
“Illegal.” Levy laughed quietly. “What an ugly word. By the way, I think that you already pay enough taxes, don’t you?”
Alex nodded. Whenever a few investment bankers got together, they always talked about legal tricks and loopholes to avoid taxes. The cut taken in taxes from salaries this high was enormous. A bank account in the Bahamas, Cayman Islands, Switzerland, or elsewhere was the rule rather than the exception.
“Let St. John know once you make a decision,” Levy said in a friendly tone. “But this is just one of two topics that I’d like to discuss with you. The other is the independence of your department.”
“I thought that you expected personal initiative?” Alex was surprised.
“Oh yes, I do,” Levy reassured her. “Please don’t think of this as criticism! Discretion is vital in your job. And we are certainly more than happy. But in the future, perhaps you can manage to inform the board about planned deals before you enter into initial negotiations with a client.”
He paused for a moment to let his words sink in.
“The board of directors,” he continued, “would like to stay informed about the activities in every department of the firm. This is pure interest, not control. You make all of the decisions as before, after consulting the CFO and the legal department.”
Alex looked at Levy for a moment and then nodded slowly. She was well aware of what one could do with information about imminent deals before other market participants could get in the game. There was a lot of money to be made by buying stocks of businesses prior to the public announcement of a takeover, which in turn would drive up the stock price. This was insider trading, and it was probably the most prohibited form of market manipulation. This is why investment banks were required to maintain “Chinese walls” serving as barriers between traders and investment bankers within a firm, so that undisclosed material information couldn’t be abused prior to its public disclosure. Levy was more or less asking her to circumvent this Chinese wall. Alex noticed the LMI president was eagerly awaiting her response, and she decided to cooperate.
“That’s no problem,” she said after a brief hesitatation. “I’ll keep you up to date.”
The relief that rushed across Levy’s face didn’t escape her notice, though his friendly smile soon returned.
“Excellent,” he said, satisfied. “I knew that we’d understand each other. You will report directly to Mr. St. John.”
Zachary St. John wasn’t particularly skilled in the banking business, but he very much understood the Wall Street power structure. He often threw parties at his penthouse apartment in Battery Park City, inviting only those he deemed important. Alex was invited for the first time this evening, and she was more than curious about who she would meet there. Invitations to Zack’s legendary parties were highly coveted in the Wall Street community because people exchanged important news, made contacts, and arranged deals while enjoying the finest food and the most expensive French champagne.
Alex took a while to think about what she should wear. At first, she considered one of the business suits that she customarily wore in the office, but she finally decided on an outrageously expensive, tight red evening gown by Versace. Tonight, she intended to show everyone that she was a woman first and foremost—despite her cleverness and ruthlessness. She arrived at the penthouse at nine thirty. It never ceased to surprise her how extravagantly people lived in New York when they had the means. About two hundred guests were spread over five thousand square feet of luxury, sitting or standing in small groups, having a great time. Zack approached her with open arms, a broad grin, and a thick Cohiba cigar between his fingers. He welcomed her warmly, admiringly eyeing her dress and her lean, shapely legs. Then he showed her off to a few very important people.
The complete LMI board of directors was of course present, together with their wives, but also a diverse group of others: lawyers, brokers, analysts, and—of course—investment bankers from other firms. Alex’s initial inhibition quickly disappeared after she realized how easily she was accepted into this illustrious circle. It felt like everyone was competing to speak with her. Zack reappeared at one point, just as she was absorbed in a discussion with Kwai and Weinberg.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Zack said as he took Alex by the arm. “I’ll bring her back in a minute.”
“What’s going on?” Alex asked in surprise.
“Come with me,” Zack whispered with a mysterious grin on his face. “There’s a very powerful man you should meet.”
She was curious as she followed him through the maze of the penthouse and up to the sprawling rooftop terrace. A few men sat laughing together in comfortable rattan armchairs, drinking cognac, smoking the Cohibas that were offered in every room. Just as Alex stepped onto the terrace, one of the men turned around and their eyes met. The laugh on the dark-haired man’s face faded. He placed his glass on the low table and stood up.
“Who’s that?” Alex whispered into Zack’s ear.
“Sergio Vitali. You’ve heard of him before, right?”
Of course she had. Everyone in New York City knew Sergio Vitali. His face was shown often enough on television and in the newspapers. He was one of the most powerful people in town—a billionaire real-estate tycoon, if the press was to be believed. He made regular headlines for his large donations to social institutions and presence at the glamorous benefits and banquets of New York’s high society, where the most important deals were made. Sergio Vitali was a poster child for American business. According to Forbes, he was among the richest individuals in the United States. Half of Manhattan belonged to him. Vitali also owned hotel chains and casinos in Las Vegas, Reno, Atlantic City, and Miami. He ruled over a corporate conglomerate and traveled in his own private Learjets.
“Alex,” Zack said, “may I introduce you to Mr. Sergio Vitali? Mr. Vitali, this is Alex Sontheim, head of the M&A department at LMI.”
“I’ve already heard so much about you.” Vitali’s voice was pleasant, cultivated. “I’m delighted to finally meet you in person. Your excellent reputation precedes you, but no one warned me you were also an exceptionally beautiful woman.”
Alex laughed in embarrassment and reached for his extended hand. His handshake was firm and warm. His touch ignited a fire in her that quickly spread throughout her entire body. She had never met a man with such strong sensuality. The attraction she felt confused her—it was irritating and deeply frightening. She preferred to have everything under control at all times.
“The pleasure is all mine,” she responded, hiding her attraction behind a cool smile. No doubt, Sergio Vitali was the most attractive man she had ever met. His thick, black hair—graying at the temples—and the subtle wrinkles around his mouth and the corners of his eyes gave special character to his striking face. His profile was like a Roman statue. With this unforgettable face, he could have had a career in Hollywood. Yet, his steel-blue eyes were his most remarkable feature. Before they could exchange another word, Zack positioned himself in the widely opened terrace doors, clapped his hands, and asked his guests for a moment of attention. He gave a brief speech, but she didn’t catch a single word of it. She noticed that Vitali’s unsettling gaze rested on her, and she was torn between an instinctive aversion and a strange fascination. He unnerved her, and she wasn’t sure whether she liked it. Nevertheless, he proved to be a very entertaining and attentive conversationalist.
Vitali introduced her to his friend and lawyer, Nelson van Mieren, who was the exact opposite of him: short, chubby, and bald, with a friendly smile on his bulging lips. His quick, small eyes, hovering above his plump cheeks, belied harmlessness. After midnight, van Mieren said good-bye. Suddenly Alex found herself complete
ly alone with Vitali on the terrace. She had drunk much more champagne than usual, and her initial wariness quickly turned into a thrilling curiosity. It was two thirty when she realized that she had talked only to Sergio Vitali for the entire evening. She thanked Zack for the invitation and politely but firmly refused Vitali’s offer to drive her home. Alex left the party with a tingly feeling, certain that she had left a lasting impression on one of the most influential men in the city.
On this Friday afternoon in September, Mark Ashton sat at his desk on the LMI Building’s fourteenth floor. His boss sat behind office doors, while his desk was in a cubicle. But this didn’t bother him. He enjoyed his work because it provided a welcome diversion from his private life, which was less than thrilling. About twelve years ago, the Harvard graduate and lawyer wound up on Wall Street. After six years at one of New York’s law firms, he joined LMI. But he’d failed miserably on the trading floor because he wasn’t cut out for the hustle and stress; he wasn’t greedy and ruthless enough to be successful.
Human resources had moved him to a position in syndication at his own request, and he’d been quite happy there for three years. Detailed calculations, financial statements, and financial analyses were more to his liking. When the new head of M&A was searching for someone good at mundane number-crunching, Mark applied on a whim and got the job. He didn’t regret it one bit. M&A was an exciting business.
Mark paused for a second, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. Alex Sontheim was the smartest and most competent boss he’d ever had. She managed to motivate her team like no one else. She noticed every error and registered all weaknesses, but she never exposed anyone publicly. Ashton quickly realized that he shouldn’t enter her office unprepared. Praise from Alex was a rare event, and the team she’d formed from this mixed group soon felt a sense of devotion that was unparalleled in the egocentric world of Wall Street. The entire department worked late into the night and on weekends without complaint. Closed deals were celebrated after work at the St. John’s Inn, Luna Luna, or Reggie’s at Hanover Square.
For the first time, Mark felt like an integral member of an efficient team, and he owed it all to Alex. If for no other reason than that, he decided to pledge loyalty to her. He especially wanted to find out whether she’d be interested in what he had uncovered about a potential client during his research. His findings seemed suspect, and Mark wasn’t sure what to make of it.
The Wisconsin-based Hanson paper mill was one of the largest paper mills in the country, and they had shown interest in acquiring the prestigious, but almost bankrupt, American Road Map publishing company. Mark questioned the motivation behind this because he couldn’t identify any good reason for it. In order to find out more about the company, he researched the Hanson paper mill and discovered to his surprise that it was owned by a holding company called SeViCo from Panama. SeViCo was owned in turn by a company called Sunset Properties, which had incorporated in the British Virgin Islands in 1985. No information was available whatsoever about Sunset Properties. None of this had mattered so far, but it was striking that American Road Map was already owned by Sunset Properties via a company called Sagimex S.A., of Monaco. Why should one company acquire another, both under the same owner? Mark chewed on his lower lip. Should he tell Alex what he had discovered about Hanson and American Road Map?
“No,” he ultimately said out loud to himself, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
His job was to assemble the right numbers in order to prepare an attractive takeover offer. If the deal went through, the legal department would take care of everything else.
The day was pure hell. The market was inexplicably restless and had been for the past few weeks. The mad rush at the opening of the stock exchange was like the gates at the Super Bowl. Alex worked on the new deal under intense pressure, leading one telephone conference after another and poring over complicated financial reports. She scarfed down a sandwich for lunch, and if she wanted to avoid working throughout the entire weekend, dinner would have to wait. It was almost three thirty when her direct line rang.
“Yes?” she said and rubbed her burning eyes.
“Hello, Alex.” The sonorous voice—so close and unexpected in her ear—automatically quickened her pulse. “It’s me, Sergio.”
“Hello, Sergio.” Alex forced herself to sound relaxed. He had called her the day after Zack’s party and invited her to lunch. His aura of power impressed Alex. She liked his attentiveness and was dazzled by the possibility of a closer relationship with him. This made her overlook the less-than-flattering rumors about the source of his incredible wealth—and the fact that he was married. During their increasingly frequent meetings, Alex noticed how fascinated he was by her and how he tried to impress her. She had acted cool and aloof until she was certain she had him hooked. Wielding power over a man like Sergio Vitali was more exciting than anything that she had previously experienced. Alex hadn’t had time for a long-term relationship with a man. She spent an occasional noncommittal night with someone, only to disappear before dawn.
But Sergio Vitali was different from everyone else. He was definitely the Rolls-Royce of men, and he could be her ticket to New York’s high society. When she’d arrived in New York at the age of twenty-three, her one and only goal had been to pursue her career. This dream had become reality some time ago. She was part of a multibillion-dollar game that was played every day behind magnificent facades. She was one of the major players of the financial world. She thought she would be satisfied once she was successful, but she quickly realized that it wasn’t enough, and her ambition kept driving her. She wanted to be like the people who bought houses on Long Island, Westchester County, or Cape Cod; who were invited to the most important social events without a second thought.
Alex gave in to Sergio’s persistent courtship after six weeks. It was easy for her to sleep with him. He was an exceptionally attractive man, and his breathtaking apartment on Park Avenue—once he finally brought her there—made him even more desirable in her eyes. Pure luxury spread over two floors with their reflecting thirteen-foot ceilings. The salons were furnished with the finest antiques, French crystal chandeliers, and thick carpets. Alex had heard of these stately apartments that only the super-rich could afford, larger than some country houses, but she’d never seen one from the inside.
The memories of her first night with Sergio sent pleasant shivers down her spine. To feel this well-composed man completely losing control of himself filled her with a thrilling sense of power. Sergio was crazy for her, and that in itself was flattering. But she’d left the next morning before he woke up so he wouldn’t think he could claim his prize after just one—admittedly very exciting—night. Less than eight hours later he was standing at her apartment door to invite her to lunch at the Crow’s Nest at the Water Club, which he had reserved entirely just for the two of them. “Impress me,” Alex had challenged him on a date a few days ago, and Sergio had obliged.
“How are you, cara? How is work?”
“Suffocating.” Alex signaled her secretary Marcia to put the files that she was carrying on her desk. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I wanted to ask if you already have plans for tonight.”
“Oh.” Alex quickly scanned the mountain of files in front of her. “I still have a lot more work to do. It depends.”
“It depends on what?”
“On what you are about to suggest.” Alex smiled lightly. By now Sergio should understand that she wasn’t the type to come running when he snaps his fingers.
“Hmm,” he responded. “I don’t know if you like things like this, and it’s short notice, but I wanted to ask if you’d like to accompany me to the Stephen Freeman Foundation charity dinner at the Plaza tonight.”
He said this in such a casual tone, as if he were inviting her ice skating. Alex straightened in her chair. She quickly forgot her work. She needed to reconsider her priorities, and the opportunity that Sergio offered her was clear. �
��But if you are too busy with work…” Sergio’s voice sounded regretful, with a mocking undertone.
“My work isn’t going anywhere,” Alex replied.
“So you’ll join me?” Sergio asked.
“Yes, I’d love to.”
“Good,” he responded. “I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock.”
Alex smiled in satisfaction as she hung up the phone. This would be another big step in the right direction: socializing with the city’s most important people. Without a doubt, her first appearance on Sergio Vitali’s arm would attract attention. Alex smiled triumphantly at her reflection in the window and then picked up the telephone. She had to look absolutely perfect. She had just four hours.
At dinner, Alex was seated between Sergio and Paul McIntyre, the commissioner of the New York City Department of Buildings. The other people at their table were Vincent Levy and his wife—who showed no surprise at seeing his head of M&A at Sergio Vitali’s side—the famous real-estate speculator David Baines, Senator Fred Hoffman, and a few other important members of high society. After listening to Levy’s and MacIntyre’s wives discussing Cayman Islands vacations, and the building commissioner’s wife raving about the wonderful luxury apartment that Vitali had generously placed at their disposal, she quickly wrote off the wives of these influential men as uninteresting. She had never cared for female companionship, and this type of women’s talk seemed like the epitome of wasted time to her. Instead, she concentrated on the conversations among the men at the table as they discussed a construction project on Staten Island. As Alex’s eyes wandered through the splendidly decorated ballroom, she noticed many celebrities. The realization that she was sitting among them filled her with an intoxicating sense of victory. But the other attendees were also eyeing her with curiosity, because it was scintillating for Sergio Vitali to appear in public with a woman who was both completely unknown and beautiful.