Philip stopped in his tracks, his gaze turning fierce.
"Since she can't stop it, we have no choice but to raise the stakes. We must offer terms more enticing than Bismarck's."
"Raise the stakes? With what? We have to budget carefully even for our expenses in Vienna next month!"
Antoine thought his nephew had gone mad.
"We have the future market of France, and the remaining political influence of the Bourbon Family in Europe."
Philip walked to the desk and leaned on it with both hands.
"Send a telegram to Isabella immediately."
Philip began to dictate, his tone carrying the madness of a gambler.
"Tell her to find an opportunity to lay her cards on the table with Argyle. There's no need to hide her identity anymore. Since Argyle can make a deal with Bismarck, he must be someone who values profit above all else."
"Have Isabella tell him that as long as he abandons his cooperation with Berlin and sets up his European headquarters in Paris or Lyon, our Bourbon Family promises that after a successful restoration, France's entire national railway network, telegraph network, and all heavy industry procurement orders will be exclusively open to the Argyle Family forever."
"Not only that, we can even put up a portion of the Bank of France's currency issuance rights as collateral. Let him become the true uncrowned king of France. Whatever Bismarck can give, we will give double!"
Antoine looked at Philip in shock.
"What? Philip, this is treason! You actually want to sell out all of France's economic sovereignty to an American."
"How is this treason? After all, the situation I'm describing is only based on the Bourbon restoration," Philip roared.
"This is our only bargaining chip, and only by tying Argyle completely to our Bourbon Family will our success rate be higher. Say no more, Uncle. Go send the telegram and let Isabella handle it as soon as possible. We have no way back!"
...
Lower Manhattan.
North of the intersection of Broadway and Wall Street, several originally crowded blocks had been completely leveled.
On the massive construction site, several clunky steam pile drivers were roaring.
Felix stood at the edge of the construction site, accompanied by Arthur Hamilton.
Many local New York bankers and heads of chambers of commerce had gathered around.
They looked at this massive foundation pit, thirty feet deep, their eyes filled with awe and disbelief.
"Boss, the pouring of the foundation has already begun."
Arthur pointed at the busy workers at the bottom of the pit.
"The first batch of high-strength steel beams from Lex Steel will arrive at the dock the day after tomorrow. We plan to set up the framework for the first three floors first."
Felix nodded, surveying the capitalists watching the spectacle.
"Have Robert personally keep a close eye on the steel riveting process; this building must not have the slightest wobble."
"Fowler has already leaked the news. Have those who want to rent office space contacted you yet?"
Arthur smiled smugly.
"They've practically broken down the door, Boss. After the bankruptcy of United Trust Bank, Wall Street is in dire need of a place that symbolizes absolute strength. A representative from Citibank came to see me yesterday, wanting to lease the entire eighth floor at a premium. Several trading firms involved in transoceanic trade have also paid deposits."
"Tell them that the rent for floors below the sixth will be doubled. For floors above the sixth, we only rent to clients with large deposits at the Imperial Bank. This building isn't somewhere you can enter just because you have money," Felix set the rules.
After inspecting the construction site.
Felix got into his carriage and headed toward his villa in Central Park.
He had been quite enjoying his time returning to the villa lately.
That Bourbon princess, disguised as the perfect lover, had indeed brought some unique amusement to his life.
The carriage stopped in front of the villa.
Felix walked into the living room.
Isabella was sitting on the sofa with a book in her hand. She was wearing a dark green dress today, and seeing Felix return, she immediately put down the book and greeted him with a smile.
"You're back. It's very windy outside today."
She naturally took the coat Felix had removed and handed it to the nearby maid.
"Yes, I went to check on the progress at the construction site. After all, it will be the tallest building in all of America, so it requires a bit more attention."
Felix walked to the sofa and sat down.
Isabella went to the liquor cabinet, poured a glass of whiskey, and handed it to him.
She had already received the latest secret telegram from Vienna.
Philip wanted her to lay her cards on the table and offer a treasonous price to block Bismarck's deal.
But she felt Philip was being foolish this time.
If she laid her cards on the table directly and admitted she had approached him with political motives, all the emotional groundwork she had laid would be for nothing.
This suspicious man would immediately kick her out.
She had to use her own indirect methods to test the waters first.
"The tallest building sounds truly amazing."
Isabella sat down beside Felix, her eyes full of admiration.
"America's vitality is always so fascinating. Unlike Europe, which is now filled with war and ruins."
She paused, naturally steering the conversation toward Europe.
"I read the newspaper this morning. It said the German Empire completed its coronation at the Palace of Versailles. They received five billion francs in reparations. Berlin must be very lively now. With all that gold, they will surely be building extensively."
Isabella looked into Felix's eyes, trying to catch any flicker of emotion.
Felix took a sip of whiskey, sneering inwardly.
The fox's tail was showing again.
Timmy had reported long ago that a maid at the villa had sold a discarded telegram.
He had intentionally left that piece of paper with "Bismarck" and "30 million in gold" written on it in the wastebasket just to see how she would react.
"It's certainly lively."
Felix put down his glass, his tone casual.
"Now that the Germans have money, they naturally want to turn their country into the factory of Europe. They have indeed been throwing money around the international market lately to buy technology."
Isabella's heart skipped a beat.
"Then... an industrialist like you, who possesses the most advanced technology, must be someone they are desperately trying to win over?" she asked tentatively.
"Of course. A German envoy was just in my office the other day."
Isabella's breath hitched slightly, and she forced herself to maintain her composure.
"Really? And did you agree to their proposal? I've heard the winters in Berlin are very cold. Do they have enough coal to run your machines?"
she asked in a half-joking tone.
Felix turned his head and looked at her.
"They have gold and thirty million dollars in cash. Plus, the mining rights to the best coal mines in the Ruhr Area."
"You know this is a very tempting deal, Isabella. As a businessman, it's hard for me to refuse a state-level order. And the terms Bismarck offered are very generous."
Isabella felt her palms grow damp with sweat.
If Felix really agreed, her family's plans would certainly be affected.
She had to raise the stakes, but without revealing her identity.
"But... Felix."
Isabella leaned forward slightly, getting closer to him.
"The Prussians are too rigid; they revere blood and iron and absolute obedience. If you set up your headquarters in Berlin, those Junker nobles and officers will definitely interfere with your business. You're used to being unconstrained in America; can you really endure the stiff political environment of Berlin?"
She threw out her first logical point of entry.
"In contrast, although the political situation in France is somewhat chaotic now, they are more flexible. If there's enough capital injection, the industrial potential of Southern France is definitely no worse than the Ruhr Area. Besides... in chaotic places, it's easier to set your own rules, isn't it?"
"Moreover, I heard you had already settled a deal with the French government regarding the south. Is it really okay to do this?"
Listening to her analysis, Felix applauded inwardly.
As expected of someone who had received top-tier political training.
She didn't bring up things like national sentiment, but instead struck directly at the two points capitalists cared about most.
Those were the risk of political interference and the opportunities for monopoly in a chaotic market.
"You have a point."
Felix followed her lead.
"The Prussians are indeed difficult to deal with. Bismarck, though he provided the money, is a dictator at heart. I also don't like people planting spies in my factories."
A flash of joy crossed Isabella's eyes.
There was a chance!
"But France is too poor right now; the Thiers Government can't even issue a promissory note. Although I am someone who likes to set rules in chaos, I'm not running a charity. Without sufficient collateral, I won't send over core technologies."
Felix put on an expression of regret.
Isabella bit her lip.
It seemed she had to throw out some substantial bait, even if it made her appear a bit abrupt.
"Felix, if... I mean if."
"If there were a hidden political force in France... they could promise you exclusive concessions for the entire French railway and power grid in the future. They might even be willing to use part of the Central Bank's power as collateral."
"Would you give up Berlin's gold for that?"
In the villa's living room, the air seemed to suddenly grow thick.
Looking at the beauty before him, who was trying hard to hide her nervousness,
Felix smiled.
She had finally played the trump card given by the side in Vienna.
Exclusive nationwide concessions for France, plus the Central Bank as collateral.
This was quite a grand gesture.
But Felix didn't expose her immediately.
Instead, he reached out and gently pinched Isabella's chin.
"A hidden political force?"
A faint, enigmatic smile played at the corners of Felix's mouth.
"Isabella, you're just a singer who fled from Paris. How would you understand such grand political dealings? You sound like a politician acting as a lobbyist for someone else."
Isabella's heart lurched.
She realized she had been too eager for success and had overstepped with her words.
"I... I just heard some rumors from high society while I was in Europe."
Isabella forced herself to calm down, her eyes darting away.
"I just don't want to see you being used by the Prussians. You've been so good to me; I hope your business empire can be built in a place that is freer and more rewarding."
Felix let go of her.
He didn't need to push too hard.
The fish had already taken the bait; as long as she felt there was still hope, those old aristocrats in Vienna would reveal more of their trump cards.
"Rumors are just rumors after all. Until I see real collateral, the Wall Street accounts will not be unfrozen." Felix stood up.
"However... I will consider your suggestion. As for the contract in Berlin, I've only initialed the agreement; I haven't officially signed it yet."
Isabella breathed a secret sigh of relief.
As long as the contract wasn't signed, there was still a chance for things to change.
...
San Francisco, the Western Subsidiary of the Metropolitan Trading Company.
O'Neill sat in his office, anxiously waiting for a response from the Qing Chong Empire delegation.
More than half of the half-month deadline had already passed.
If this massive $7.5 million order fell through because of the mortgage rights to those two customs houses, he would be so heartbroken he wouldn't be able to sleep.
Footsteps came from outside the door.
Dum Gai pushed open the door.
"Mr. O'Neill, Intendant Li and the others have arrived."
Intendant Li and his retinue walked in.
Intendant Li's face looked extremely weary, as if he had undergone a massive psychological ordeal over the past few days.
"Mr. Li, please have a seat." O'Neill went to greet him.
After everyone was seated,
Intendant Li skipped the pleasantries and directly had Interpreter Wang convey the imperial court's final decree.
"Mr. O'Neill," Interpreter Wang's voice was somewhat dry.
"The Zongli Yamen has replied. The imperial court has agreed to all of your conditions."
O'Neill suddenly clenched his fist, forcing down the wild joy in his heart.
"Including the establishment of Imperial Bank branches in Shanghai and Guangzhou, as well as the mortgage and escrow of customs revenues?" O'Neill confirmed.
Intendant Li closed his eyes and nodded heavily.
"Yes, by imperial decree. The customs surpluses from the Jianghai Customs and Yuehai Customs for the next ten years will be deposited into your designated accounts as security for the $4.5 million loan."
As Intendant Li spoke these words, his heart was bleeding.
But in the Qing Chong Empire, they were currently facing Japan's covetous gaze in the East world Sea, as well as one rebellion after another across the country.
The imperial court desperately needed modern repeating firearms and steel mills to build the Beiyang Fleet.
Choosing the lesser of two evils, Prince Gong finally persuaded the Empress Dowager to grit her teeth and swallow this bitter pill.
"A very wise decision, Lord Li."
O'Neill immediately pulled out a thick contract that had been prepared long ago.
"This is a bilingual procurement agreement and loan mortgage contract in Chinese and English. Once you sign it and affix the official seal of the Zongli Yamen, we will immediately accept the first installment of three million in silver drafts. The cargo ships in Philadelphia can set sail tomorrow."
Intendant Li picked up the brush, his hand trembling slightly.
He signed his name on several documents and stamped them with a bright red seal.
This was not just a procurement contract.
It was a covenant that connected the very lifeblood of the Qing Chong Empire's finances to an invisible transfusion tube leading to Wall Street.
Two days later.
New York, Empire State Building.
Bill, holding a copy of the signed international contract, hurried into Felix's office.
"Boss, we got it. The Qing Chong Empire court compromised; the customs escrow rights are ours!"
Bill excitedly placed the documents on the desk.
Felix looked at the contract; he wasn't particularly excited.
After all... never mind.
He picked up a fountain pen and signed his name on the authorization document.
"Notify Templeton to immediately begin preparing the staff for the Shanghai branch of the Imperial Bank. Find the most capable accountants and auditors."
"Also, tell Matthew to ship those obsolete old steel furnaces and first-generation generators. Provide plenty of firearms and ammunition; let them have a little taste of the benefits first."
"Understood, Boss. We've made a killing on this deal."
Bill excitedly withdrew.
Felix was left alone in the office.
He walked over to the massive world map.
On the East Coast, there was the newly approved Argyle's Building.
In Europe, there was Bismarck's thirty million in gold and the bottomless pit of the Bourbon Family.
Now, the customs of the Qing Chong Empire in the Far East had also fallen into his pocket.
The Germans thought they could use his technology to counter Britain.
The Bourbon Family thought they could use beauty and empty promises to swindle his funds.
And the Qing Chong Empire thought it had purchased the divine tools for self-strengthening and wealth.
But actually, on this massive global chessboard,
Who is the pawn, and who is the player...
It remains to be seen...
Looking at the ocean on the map, he smiled.
"Getting more and more interesting."