Poul briefed Jonathan about his decision of acquiring lands in Texas, Wyoming, and the Appalachian Basin. As soon as he finished briefing, Jonathan exclaimed softly.
"So that was it huh? He is threatened because he sees that acquiring lands over those regions that we are going to compete against him."
"That's the only logical explanation I can come up with," Poul concurred. "Though I must say, how the hell did he learn about the acquisition? Was there some sort of a leak?"
"Who knows, maybe Rockefeller has some spies or prospectors in the area reporting under him. He is an oil magnate, and they have been on a constant lookout for the regions that have oil," Jonathan said.
"It is possible, if I'm an oil magnate in the late nineteenth century with no modern instruments to find oil, I would hire hundreds of men to scour the earth to look for that precious black gold," Poul said. "Well, that's just about it. I'm getting sleepy. Do inform me about the contents of the meeting."
"You will," Jonathan said before hanging up the phone.
A day passed and the time was seven thirty in the evening. Jonathan and Caroline stepped down from the carriage that Mr. Rockefeller had sent for them. They were both dressed in their finest attire, with Jonathan wearing his tailored suit and Caroline in her stunning red gown. The carriage stopped in front of a grand mansion, and a doorman greeted them, opening the door and welcoming them inside.
The party was already in full swing, with dozens of guests mingling and chatting with each other. Jonathan and Caroline were guided by a butler to the main ballroom, where they saw Mr. Rockefeller standing by the fireplace, chatting with some other guests. When he noticed them, he excused himself and made his way over to them.
"Welcome, Mr. Axelsen and Ms. Dupont. Thank you for coming," he said, extending a hand to each of them.
"It's an honor to be here, Mr. Rockefeller," Jonathan replied, shaking his hand.
The three of them sat down on a nearby sofa, and Mr. Rockefeller gestured for a waiter to bring them some wine. After a few sips, Mr. Rockefeller cleared his throat and began to speak.
"I'm sure you're both wondering why I invited you here tonight," he said, looking at them intently.
"We are," Caroline replied, smiling politely.
"Well, I'll cut right to the chase. I received information where I was told that your company is buying lands in Texas, Wyoming, and the Appalachian basin. Now, I don't think you are buying them for no reason because based on the information we have on those lands, they are situated over oil-rich fields," Rockefeller explained.
"Yeah, my partner informed me about the acquisition of the lands. But I fail to understand why this concerns you," Jonathan sipped his wine, allowing his words to sink into Rockefeller.
Rockefeller leaned back on the sofa, looking thoughtful. ""As you may already know, my company, Standard Oil, has been dominating the oil industry for quite some time now. And we have been looking for oil fields around those regions. So, buying those lands means that you already found oil there. Now that concerns me. Because it means you and your partner are going to start an oil mining company, which will make you my competitor."
"Mr. Rockefeller, you must be overthinking it. Why are you assuming that because we bought those lands means we are going to start an oil mining company?" Jonathan challenged.
"That's a well-thought question Mr. Axelsen but I got some good ones for you. Why are you buying those lands? Don't tell me it's not about oil."
"Why do you care?" Jonathan asked, sounding aggressive.
"Because I have a proposition for you and your partner," Rockefeller said. "So I'm interested in the lands that you found, and I will offer you a price double that of the money you paid for those lands."
"You are asking me that really? On the spot?" Jonathan asked, surprised by the sudden offer.
"Of course, I will give you time to decide but if I were to give you advice, I'd say that you take the offer," Rockefeller said, a hint of smugness in his voice.
Jonathan exchanged a glance with Caroline before turning back to Rockefeller.
"What if I don't?" Jonathan asked, challenging Rockefeller's proposal.
Rockefeller's expression grew serious. "Then we'll have ourselves a competition, Mr. Axelsen. And I assure you, Standard Oil always wins. Have you heard stories about oil companies competing against me? They are either absorbed into my company or went out of business."
"So you are implying that if we go against you, that may happen to us?" Jonathan asked, sneering subtly.
"I'll let you speculate," Rockefeller said and continued. "But it is in our best interest that we don't go against each other. Because I like you both, we are the same. We grew up from nothing and now we have so much money that we couldn't even bother to count. It will be disappointing to me if that happens to you."
"You are quite confident, Mr. Rockefeller," Jonathan set down his wine and leaned forward. "You know it could happen to you too right?"
"Standard Oil doesn't fail, Mr. Axelsen. And it will be very unwise if you go against me. So either accept my offer and face your inevitable downfall," Rockefeller said.
Jonathan and Rockefeller were engaged in a staring contest until Caroline interjected.
"Before you two gentlemen erupt into an unnecessary argument, can we take a moment to think about this proposal, Mr. Rockefeller?" Caroline suggested.
Rockefeller leaned back and nodded. "Of course, take all the time you need."
Caroline turned to Jonathan and whispered, "Yield for now, Jonathan, and enjoy the evening. You now know the intentions of Mr. Rockefeller, which is what you came here for. There's no need to heat things up."
Jonathan nodded and whispered back. "You are right."
He turned to Rockefeller and then spoke. "It seems like you have delivered what you intended, we are going to enjoy the party you are hosting tonight so if you will excuse us."
With that, Poul and Caroline stood from their seats and left.
Rockefeller watched their figure disappear among the attendees and pondered.
"Jonathan Axelsen, you have some guts," he muttered under his breath.
