Building a Conglomerate in Another World

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September 12th, 1888, dawned bright and clear, the skies over Sylvania a perfect canvas of soft blue. The Fitzwilliam estate had been transformed into a spectacle of elegance and grandeur. Rows of white rose bushes lined the pathways leading to the estate, their blooms fresh and fragrant. Ornate tents and pavilions dotted the expansive gardens, their silk drapes fluttering gently in the morning breeze.

Guests arrived in a procession of carriages and automobiles, each vehicle bearing the mark of wealth and influence. Among them were some of the most powerful figures of the time—industrial titans, esteemed politicians, and foreign dignitaries. The event had drawn significant attention, with headlines like "The Wedding of the Century: Hesh Marries Fitzwilliam" gracing the morning papers.

At the heart of the celebration, President Theodore Clay stepped out of his carriage, his presence immediately commanding attention. Dressed in a sharp black suit, his every movement exuded the confidence of a man who had mastered the political and social arenas. As he made his way through the entrance, he was greeted personally by Charles Fitzwilliam.

"Mr. President," Charles said, bowing his head slightly, "it is an honor to have you with us today."

"The honor is mine," Clay replied, his tone warm but measured. "A union like this is more than a personal affair—it's a symbol of progress. I wouldn't miss it."

Charles nodded, his chest puffed with pride. "You'll find your place of honor near the front. The ceremony begins shortly."

Inside the grand ballroom, Matthew Hesh stood before a full-length mirror in the groom's suite. His tailored navy-blue suit was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, its lapels embroidered with subtle gold accents that caught the light. He adjusted his cufflinks, a nervous energy simmering beneath his composed exterior.

Robert Anders entered the room, a wide grin on his face. "Well, Matthew, you've done it. Half of Sylvania's elite are out there waiting for you."

Matthew turned, his expression a mix of amusement and nerves. "And the other half?"

"Probably reading about it in the papers," Robert quipped, holding out a glass of champagne. "Here, for the nerves."

Matthew accepted the glass, taking a small sip. "How does it look out there?"

"Magnificent," Robert said. "Your team and the Fitzwilliams have outdone themselves. This isn't just a wedding—it's a statement."

Matthew nodded, his mind momentarily drifting to Amber. He hadn't seen her since the night before, and the anticipation of seeing her walk down the aisle was beginning to build.

In the bridal suite, Amber Fitzwilliam stood before an ornate vanity, her reflection almost unrecognizable to her. Her wedding gown was a vision of artistry, with delicate lacework cascading down the bodice and a flowing train that seemed to shimmer with every movement. Her hair was styled elegantly, adorned with a simple tiara that complemented her understated grace.

"Amber, you look breathtaking," her mother said, her voice tinged with emotion.

Amber turned, her expression softening. "Thank you, Mother."

A knock at the door interrupted their moment, and Charles entered, his usual stern demeanor softened by the sight of his daughter. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking her in.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Amber smiled. "Thank you, Father."

Charles approached, placing a hand on her shoulder. "This is a big day, Amber. It's not just about you and Matthew—it's about what this union represents. Remember that."

"I know," Amber replied with a steady voice. "But it's also about love, Father. And I've found that with Matthew."

Charles studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. It's time."

The ceremony took place in the estate's largest garden, beneath a grand archway adorned with roses and wisteria. Rows of white chairs stretched out before the altar, filled with guests who represented the pinnacle of society. The air buzzed with quiet anticipation as a string quartet played a soft, melodious tune.

Matthew stood at the altar, his hands clasped in front of him. Beside him stood his best man, Robert, who gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Matthew's gaze remained fixed on the entrance to the garden, his heart pounding as the music shifted, signaling Amber's arrival.

All eyes turned as Amber stepped into view, her arm linked with Charles's. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd at the sight of her. She moved with grace, her gown flowing around her like a dream. But Matthew saw only her—her smile, her radiance, the love in her eyes as she met his gaze.

When they reached the altar, Charles placed Amber's hand in Matthew's, his grip firm but not unkind. "Take care of her," he said quietly, stepping back to join the front row.

Amber and Matthew stood facing each other, the world around them fading as the officiant began to speak. Vows were exchanged, each word spoken with sincerity and emotion. When the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, the crowd erupted into applause, but for Matthew and Amber, there was only the moment—their first kiss as a married couple.

The reception was a grand affair, with tables laden with the finest foods and a ballroom filled with music and laughter. President Clay offered a toast, his words highlighting the significance of the union and the bright future it promised.

As the evening wore on, Matthew and Amber found a quiet moment together on the estate's balcony. The garden below was illuminated by strings of lights, and the sounds of the celebration drifted up to them.

"Did you ever think this would happen?" Amber asked, her hand resting on Matthew's arm.

"Not in a million years," Matthew admitted, his tone light. "But I wouldn't change a thing. Even if it's so sudden."

Amber smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Neither would I."

As they stood there, the stars above them bright and clear, Matthew felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in years. For the first time, the future felt not just possible, but promising. Together, he and Amber would face whatever came next—and they would do it as one.