Creating an Industrial Empire in 19th Century Parallel World

Back in Pittsburgh, the day after Jonathan's meeting with Rockefeller, Poul found himself buried in piles of business documents that Amelia had asked him to sort. As he worked, the telephone on his desk suddenly rang, interrupting his concentration. With a quick swipe, he picked up the receiver and placed it between his ear and shoulder.

"Nielsen speaking," he answered.

"It's Jonathan. Do you want to know what happened at my meeting with Rockefeller yesterday?" Jonathan's voice crackled through the line.

Poul's interest was piqued. "Yes, of course. Is it about the oil?"

Jonathan's voice held a note of frustration. "Yes, it is about the oil. Rockefeller found out about the lands we were buying, and he demanded that we sell them to him at double the price. He even had the audacity to tell us not to compete with him or we'll be defeated like the others."

Poul let out a scoff. "And he thinks we'll just give in to his demands?"

"That's what he seemed to be implying," Jonathan replied.

Poul's voice took on a firm tone. "Well, as our partners, we both know that it has to be a unanimous decision. And my decision is that we reject his offer and move forward with our plan to claim that land."

Jonathan agreed. "I couldn't agree more. Rockefeller has an inflated ego and thinks he can bully anyone who dares to compete with him. But we're not like the others, and we won't back down."

Poul continued, "Amelia has already finalized the deal for those lands, and I'll be setting up a board meeting with John Morgan and Caroline Dupont to discuss the creation of an oil company. They are our strongest backers, and I believe they are the only ones who can put up a good fight against Rockefeller."

"That's a good plan," Jonathan acknowledged. "I'll be meeting with Caroline later to inform her about this."

"And I'll speak with John when he visits the office later today," Poul said before ending the call, feeling confident in their decision to stand up to Rockefeller's demands.

***

Five hours later. A horse-drawn carriage trotted down the cobblestone streets of Pittsburgh, carrying a familiar figure. John Morgan had arrived at the office, dressed in his usual three-piece suit, a top hat perched on his head.

Seated next to John Morgan was a lady with lavender-colored hair. She had tied a ribbon of the same shade in her hair, and her matching coat was a soft lilac color. She gazed out of the window, taking in the sights of the company town that they were about to visit. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she imagined herself meeting the savior of her life.

She had been asking her father to take her to Pittsburgh but every time she asked for that, it was rejected. Like her father doesn't want her to be here. Now she wondered what changed his mind. But the prospect of meeting Poul again made her forget about her father's reluctance.

"We are here," the coachman announced from outside the carriage, interrupting her thoughts.

John Morgan turned to his daughter with a smile. "Are you ready, Fiona?"

Fiona smiled back at her father, her eyes shining with anticipation. "Yes, Father."

As they stepped out of the carriage, Fiona noticed first the looming building before her.

"It's big…" she exclaimed under her breath. "Father, is this really their office?"

"Yes," Morgan confirmed. "And it's the first of its kind. I was also thinking that I should have Jonathan, the man who designed the building, build my new office building in New York. But given the circumstances, they are having, I'd say that he is busy taking on another project. Anyways, shall we go inside?"

The two entered the building and were greeted by the receptionist by the name of Beatrice.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Morgan and…" Beatrice paused, looking at the lady standing beside Morgan. "Is she affiliated with you, Mr. Morgan?"

"Yeah, biologically. She is my daughter and I believe that Mr. Nielsen wouldn't mind me bringing her along with me for this meeting," Morgan replied, chuckling at Beatrice's confusion.

"Of course, sir," Beatrice nodded, scribbling something down on a notepad. "Mr. Nielsen is expecting you in the conference room on the 8th floor. I'll escort you to the elevator."

John Morgan and Fiona followed the receptionist, Beatrice, into the elevator and were whisked up to the eighth floor. As the elevator doors opened, they were greeted by a long, brightly lit corridor lined with sleek glass offices. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered stunning views of the Pittsburgh skyline.

As they walked down the corridor, the sound of their footsteps echoed off the polished marble floors, adding to the grandeur of the building. The air smelled of fresh flowers, and the temperature was perfectly regulated. The whole atmosphere of the building oozed elegance and sophistication, leaving Fiona in awe.

Finally, they arrived at a spacious, modern conference room. The mahogany table that dominated the center of the room was polished to a gleaming shine. Surrounding it were plush leather chairs that looked more comfortable than any Fiona had ever seen. The room was tastefully decorated, with modern art pieces adorning the walls, and ambient lighting that created a warm, inviting atmosphere.

But what caught Fiona's attention the most was the man sitting at the far center of the table. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, and his silver hair was combed back neatly. His golden eyes flickered at Morgan as he stood up in his chair, giving him a scrutinizing look.

Fiona recognized the man, after all, he was easy to recognize due to his distinct hair color. Poul Nielsen.

"Mr. Morgan," Poul began. "I have been expecting you."

John Morgan stepped forward, extending his hand towards Poul. "It's good to see you again, Poul. This is my daughter, Fiona."

Poul smiled at Fiona, his golden eyes scanning her up and down. "Fiona huh, you have grown up since the last time I saw you. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Fiona's heart fluttered at the sound of his voice. She tried to remain composed and returned his smile, but her cheeks betrayed her as they flushed with color.

"Yeah, it's nice to see you again…Mr. Nielsen…" Fiona said bashfully.

Poul's eyes lingered on Fiona for a moment longer before turning his attention back to John Morgan.

"Shall we get down to business?"

Morgan nodded and took a seat at the table, motioning for Fiona to sit beside him. Poul took his own seat, and the two of them began to discuss business matters.

As the meeting progressed, Fiona found herself lost in thought, her mind wandering to Poul. She couldn't believe that she was actually sitting here, in the same room as the man who had saved her life. She had been dreaming of this moment for years, but now that it was happening, she didn't know what to do or say.

She stole glances at Poul whenever she could, marveling at the way the light caught in his silver hair and the way his golden eyes sparkled when he spoke. She felt a strange warmth spreading through her chest, and she couldn't help but smile to herself.

Their meeting went on for ten minutes, with Poul discussing a partnership for starting an oil company.

"So if I'm hearing this right, Rockefeller approached Jonathan with an offer and you rejected it because you want to start an oil company?"

"That is right, just like our other successful enterprise, this one will be as well."

"Well, the reason that your enterprise was successful was that there were no companies at the time offering the same products. Except for the arms manufacturing enterprise of course where you outshined them with your revolutionary rifle. But this time, I think you are getting ahead of yourself. Oil is already an established market and there are many established players in the industry. It would be a huge risk to invest in a new oil company."

"Mr. Morgan, there you go again with your negative attitude towards risk-taking. That is what separates successful businessmen from the rest. We must take risks, calculated risks of course, in order to achieve greatness. Of course, we wouldn't enter a business without offering uniqueness to the market. Just like we did in our arms enterprise, we have something that Rockefeller doesn't."

Fiona listened intently as the two men debated the merits and drawbacks of starting an oil company. She could see the determination in Poul's eyes, and the conviction in his voice, and she couldn't help but feel drawn to him even more.

Suddenly, Poul turned to Fiona and addressed her directly. "What do you think, Fiona? Do you think it's worth taking the risk?"

Fiona was taken aback by the question, but she didn't hesitate to answer. "I am not in a position to answer that question…Mr. Nielsen, but if you are allowing me, then I think that if you have a unique approach to the oil industry and can offer something that other companies cannot, then it may be worth taking the risk."

Poul hummed in thought and Fiona was screaming internally. Did she give him the wrong answer? No, she was only giving him her opinion, but she just basically agreed with him. So…

"Mr. Nielsen, please don't involve my daughter in this. She is just here to observe," Morgan reminded.

"Sorry about that," Poul said. "So, what would it be? Has there been a time when I didn't meet your expectations? The arms business, the electric venture, the air brakes. All of them were successful."

Morgan was silent for a moment, contemplating Poul's words. He knew that Poul had a point. Every business they had started together had been successful, and Poul had always been the driving force behind them. Morgan admired Poul's tenacity and his ability to see opportunities where others saw only obstacles.

Finally, Morgan spoke up. "Fine, I'll back you on this. But you better have a damn good plan in place, and you better make sure that it's unique enough to stand out in the market."

Poul smiled, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I promise you won't regret this."