In December 1865, the snow fell heavily.
New York was adorned in a coat of silver and white.
The streets were hung with Christmas lights, and shop windows displayed exquisite gifts.
Despite the lingering wounds of war, people yearned to use the joy of the holidays to mask their pain.
In the hall of the Argyle Mansion, a massive spruce tree stood in the center, covered in glass ornaments and ribbons. The firelight from the fireplace reflected on the faces of the family.
Catherine held three-month-old Finn, teaching him to reach for the golden star.
The little guy was growing fast and could now make babbling sounds, which were the most beautiful music in the entire mansion.
Felix sat on a nearby sofa, holding a glass of mulled wine as he watched the two of them, his gaze soft.
"Look at him, Felix," Catherine said with a smile. "He seems to really like that star; he keeps staring at it."
Felix set down his wine glass and walked over to tease his son's cheek.
"Because it's bright. Humans are always drawn to the light."
"By the way," Catherine turned her head.
"I heard from Frost that you're going to Washington for the New Year's state banquet? President Lincoln sent an invitation?"
"That's right." Felix nodded.
"This is the first true New Year after the war. The President wants to make it grand to demonstrate the unity of the Union."
"Are you going?"
"I have to," Felix sighed. "And there are some old scores that should be settled then."
"Old scores? What is it?"
Catherine was somewhat confused. Although she had spent most of the past few months resting, she had still visited the Umbrella Corporation and the charity foundation a few times and hadn't heard of anything major happening.
"It's about the land in the South, and those politicians who aren't being very cooperative."
Felix didn't say much more, not wanting Catherine to get involved in the dirty business of politics just yet.
Just then, the butler walked in, carrying a silver tray.
"Sir, there is a letter. It's from Boston."
Felix raised an eyebrow. Boston?
He picked up the envelope, which was stamped with an exquisite family crest. Felix remembered it as the emblem of the Lowell Family.
Opening the envelope, he found an invitation and a handwritten letter.
"To the esteemed Mr. Argyle:
On behalf of the Lowell Family, I would like to invite you to a charity gala we are hosting in Boston... Additionally, I heard from Mr. Lawrence that you are fond of oil paintings; my father has expressed his willingness to part with one of his favorites..."
Felix looked at those words, a disdainful smirk playing on his lips.
So it was a letter of surrender. They knelt fast; he thought an old money family from Boston could hold out for two years. How boring.
Over the past few months, after Lawrence's textile mills acquired Felix's new machinery and cheap cotton, they had launched a frantic price war.
The Lowell Family's fabrics wouldn't sell, inventory piled up, and their capital chain broke.
The once-arrogant Augustus was now forced to bow his head and sell paintings to survive.
"What is it?" Catherine asked.
"Nothing." Felix tossed the letter into the fireplace. The flames instantly consumed the exquisite paper.
"Just a gala invitation, but I have no interest in it."
"Then how should we reply?"
"Don't worry about it; it's just another insignificant dinner party my dear."
*********
A few days later, in Washington.
The New Year's bells were about to ring, and the White House banquet hall was brilliantly decorated.
It's worth mentioning that the kerosene lamps used inside all burned kerosene produced by Standard Oil.
Felix wore a black tailcoat, with the federal medal symbolizing 'Honor and Contribution' pinned to his chest. He held a wine glass and moved through the crowd.
Secretary Stanton was chatting and laughing with several generals, while Tweed was whispering with a few Democratic Party congressmen over there.
"Felix, you're looking well I see!"
A booming voice called out. President Lincoln walked over. He looked much better than before; though his hair was whiter, there was a sense of composure in his eyes.
"Mr. President." Felix bowed slightly.
Lincoln patted his shoulder affectionately. "I heard you've been doing great things in New York lately. Even that stubborn Old Lion Vanderbilt admitted defeat and shook hands to make peace with you?"
"It's not that exaggerated, sir. Mr. Vanderbilt and I are just business associates."
"I suspect it's more than just business." Lincoln lowered his voice. "That old fellow used to be quite proud."
"By the way, Felix, Director Wood of the Secret Service told me that the equipment and training personnel you provided were a huge help. Last week, a dozen agents captured a Southern remnant group trying to cause an explosion in Philadelphia."
Felix shook his head, not wanting to take the credit for himself; after all, those dozen agents in the Secret Service needed the credit more.
After all, the newly established Secret Service had no intelligence network to speak of.
So where did the intelligence for those dozen agents come from?
Hard to guess... "You overpraise me, sir. It was the Secret Service staff's diligence; I only provided some minor assistance."
Lincoln looked at him, his gaze becoming profound.
"Felix, although the war is over, I feel... another kind of war has just begun. A war over money and power.A war oover the future of the Union..."
"I know what you're doing in the South. Those lands, those vouchers."
Felix couldn't help but feel a bit nervous.
"Do you feel... something is inappropriate?"
"No, don't misunderstand, Felix. I don't think you've done anything wrong."
Lincoln shook his head and sighed, his tone filled with emotion.
"Actually, I've been thinking lately that this might be the only way. Giving them bread now is better than giving them bullets. As long as order remains in the South, there won't be chaos. Even if this order is a bit cold... it's better than chaos.
However, I believe that as time passes and a new generation grows up in a stable environment, the people of the North and South will gradually set aside their disputes and merge into one true family."
"Thank you for your understanding. I believe that as well."
Lincoln raised his glass and clinked it with Felix's.
"Even so, my friend, promise me. Don't let this monster eat too many people, okay?"
Felix looked into the President's sincere eyes.
"I will put a muzzle on it, sir."
Just then, the New Year's bells rang.
"Clang... Clang...!"
The year 1866 had arrived.
The crowd cheered, and champagne was opened.
Felix watched the fireworks outside.
In the old year, he had initially won the oil struggle, quelled the railroad storm, controlled the Southern cotton fields, and had a son.
In the new year, his gaze turned toward even further horizons.
The West, where that railroad was laboriously extending. And those British old money interests who were always looking for trouble in the shadows.
"Happy New Year, America"
Felix said softly, draining his glass in one gulp.
The taste was a bit like blood, and a bit like gold.
**********
Outside the windows of the East Room of the White House, the fireworks over the Potomac River had just dissipated, leaving a faint scent of sulfur in the cold air.
Inside the ballroom, the orchestra began playing a Strauss waltz, their tempo deliberately slowed to accommodate the steps of politicians and generals who had consumed quite a bit of alcohol.
Felix stood by a Corinthian column in the hall, holding a glass of punch that had already turned lukewarm.
He had just managed to shake off two Pennsylvania congressmen who were trying to sell him anthracite coal mines and only wanted to find a quiet corner to catch his breath.
"You don't seem to be enjoying the party, Mr. Argyle."
A crisp female voice sounded beside him.
Felix turned around; it was Anna Clark standing there.
She was wearing a pale blue taffeta evening gown with a large skirt embroidered with silver thread. Her hair was styled in the popular curls of the time, held back by a pearl headband, making her look like an iris in full bloom.
Felix politely raised his glass to her.
"Ah, Miss Anna, you know how it is, parties can be quite boring on the lonesome."
"And it's not that I'm not enjoying it. It's just that in this ballroom, every handshake comes with a price tag, or perhaps... a trap, so it's a bit exhausting."
"You're right; they are indeed very boring."
Hearing this, Anna showed no intention of leaving; instead, she took a small step forward, closing the social distance between them.
"But Catherine said you're the same at home, always staying in your study until late at night, talking to maps and ledgers."
Hearing Anna's words, Felix raised an eyebrow.
"Is that what she told you in her letters?"
"Not just that, I saw it with my own eyes."
Anna's eyes were bright as she stared unabashedly at Felix's face.
"During those two weeks I stayed at your house in New York, you were busy handling the Erie Railroad business."
"During that time, Catherine told me quite a few stories about you."
There was an unmistakable sense of admiration in Anna's voice.
"She said you weren't one of those young rich men born with a silver spoon in their mouth."
"You were brought to New York by your parents, but that terrible cholera outbreak took them away. When you realized you had to survive in this cold world, you only had a hundred dollars in your pocket."
Anna looked at Felix as if she were looking at the protagonist of a legendary novel.
"A hundred dollars couldn't even buy a decent burial plot in Manhattan. But you used it to buy tinplate and discarded beef to make the first batch of canned food. Then came the Argyle Bank, Umbrella, and those powerful guns and cannons..."
"Ahem—Catherine makes me sound too good, and far too subjective."
Felix touched his nose awkwardly, interrupting her rhapsody.
"Maybe it wasn't some legend, Anna. It might have just been hunger. After all, when a person is hungry, they don't think about grand ambitions; they just want to stuff that damn beef into cans to trade for bread. Who knows?"
Felix didn't want Anna to be so curious about or admire him.
After all, in his past life, the internet always said that curiosity is the beginning of a woman falling in love with a man.
And he was a married man.
And Anna was... she was the only daughter of his ally and friend, Thomas.
"Impossible."
Anna shook her head, a heat in her eyes that made Felix feel a sense of danger.
"I think it's very heroic. At least it's much better than those men in Washington who only know how to talk and rely on their family's shadow."
She looked at Felix, her gaze sweeping from his neat bow tie across his sharp-featured face.
In Catherine's descriptions, this man was a family-oriented husband; in her father's words, he was a ruthless commercial emperor.
This massive contrast held a fatal attraction for a young girl who had recently graduated from a women's college and read too many knightly romances.
"Mr. Argyle, I heard you have an estate in the South? If you go to inspect it next time..." Anna lowered her voice, leaning forward slightly.
"Anna."
Felix's tone sharpened slightly as he subtly took half a step back, increasing the distance between them.
"Southern estates aren't suitable for ladies; there are only mosquitoes and unpleasant things there. Besides, my wife Catherine has been busy taking care of Finn lately. She misses you dearly and hopes you'll write to her more often."
This was a tactful but clear rejection.
Felix was reminding her that he had a partner, and that partner was her friend as well.
Anna's face flushed, a flash of disappointment crossing her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of stubbornness. Just as she was about to say something, three heavy thuds came from the podium on the other side of the hall.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
The originally noisy hall fell silent instantly.
Lincoln stepped onto the podium.
"Ladies and gentlemen... at the start of this new year, I would like to announce several personnel appointments. To handle the heavy tasks of post-war reconstruction, we need stronger hands to drive the wheels of the Union."
The crowd held its breath.
Everyone knew that tonight was not just a celebration, but a reshuffling of power.
Lincoln looked toward a direction in the crowd.
"First, Mr. Edwin Stanton will continue to serve as the Secretary of War. The Union needs his iron fist to maintain order in the South until the final embers are extinguished."
Applause broke out, and Stanton nodded slightly in the crowd, his expression still as stern as a block of granite.
"Second..."
Lincoln paused, turning his gaze toward Felix's direction.
"Regarding the Department of the Interior. This department oversees our lands, Indian affairs, the Patent Office, and the future of the West."
"I nominate Senator Thomas Clark to serve as the new Secretary of the Interior."
Thunderous applause erupted, even more enthusiastic than the one for Stanton.
Felix saw Thomas Clark not far away, surrounded by a group of congressmen eager to congratulate him. This former senator was now the Union's chief steward.
Anna Clark stood beside Felix, watching her father surrounded by the crowd, a look of pride on her face.
"It seems I'll have to call you the Secretary's daughter from now on," Felix said with a smile.
"And what about you?" Anna turned her head to look at Felix.
"With friends in the War Department and the Department of the Interior... and even President Lincoln, is there anything in America you can't do?"
Felix didn't answer immediately. He just looked at Lincoln on the stage and then at Clark in the distance.
The Department of the Interior—this was exactly the puzzle piece he needed most.
Land, minerals, railroad rights-of-way, Indian reservations... all these things were now in the hands of his own people.
"Perhaps so."
Felix replied softly, draining the wine in his glass.
"But I fear this wine will only get stronger from now on."
_________
Gotcha with the title?
Catherine: Get your hussy hands off mah man!