King of Hollywood

Thomas Hart, who stopped the rumbling motorcycle and took off his helmet, heaved a sigh of relief. After getting off the car, he kicked the old thing with some annoyance, before walking towards the apartment he rented.

"Thomas?" Just after entering the door downstairs, a voice came into my ears, "I want to remind you that the rent will be paid in a few days, and you'd better pay it together with the 50 dollars you owed last month. Come on, or I'll have to call the police!"

On the corridor, a Caucasian woman in her thirties stood there looking at him unkindly and said that although she had a round face and looked rich and gentle, her words were quite harsh.

"I know, Mrs. Reguizamo, I'm going to make a fortune right away, and I'll give it to you as soon as I get it." Although there was a surge of anger in my heart, when I thought of the Los Angeles Times "What the editor-in-chief Ruffalo said to himself, Hart still held back and replied in a low voice.

"You'd better do what you say." The white woman looked at him suspiciously, probably because he felt that his reaction was a little different from usual, but she didn't think too much, she frowned, and a look of disgust came from her face. After flashing up, he returned to his house with a thump.

Damn woman! Hart squeezed his fist. It's not that he has never seen a mean person, but there was one time when he was so mean as this woman. Just like rent arrears, he still owed it in other places, but other landlords allowed him to owe it for four months at most-of course, he made it up in time. But although this woman is only in her thirties, she takes money very seriously. Last month, almost under repeated begging, he emptied every penny he had, and when he was out of money, he reluctantly agreed that he owed $50.

If it wasn't for the frequent rent arrears at the last house, even though it was paid up every time, I really felt embarrassed and sorry for the kind landlord, otherwise how could he move to such a dilapidated place.

Make this a deal, a must! Hart said to himself in his heart. It was God's will, and he didn't think that he was just in the wrong place. However, he broke into the private beach by mistake and captured such an astonishing scene from a distance. This is exaggerated, look at this list, Nicole Kidman, Gwyneth Paltrow, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Britney Spears... just pick one, even the One of two lingerie models that would attract millions of men, but they were throwing this party at the same time, in the same place, with the same man. If the news hits the newspapers, it will definitely cause a strong earthquake.

As long as this deal can be made, I will definitely be able to turn around! Hart opened the door of his apartment, and took a deep breath. Rao encouraged himself so much, his face was still gloomy, he thought he had gone to the newspaper office. The stalker met a powerful editor-in-chief, and the deal could be completed. He didn't expect that there would be such a big trouble. He almost forgot that the director of Miracle was also one of the top media tycoons in the world.

Hart knew. The media tycoon is not easy to mess with. He used to be a reporter. If not... he doesn't really care about fame. Now he pays more attention to practical interests, such as opportunities such as money. But after editor-in-chief Ruffalo described it, he realized that he still thought too superficially about many things. While he doesn't think there's a need for more high-resolution photos, Ruffalo is right that caution and secrecy are good pieces of advice.

So he went to the "New York Times" branch in Los Angeles today, and met with a responsible editor-in-chief recommended to him by Ruffalo. Of course, he played tricks and didn't tell the other party who asked him to come to him. . After that, things were basically the same. The other party also repeatedly told him to be careful not to spread the word immediately, and when he made it clear that Ruffalo of the "Los Angeles Times" asked him to come to him, the other party immediately called Ruffalo in front of him. Hart and Ruffalo said a few words.

This made him more at ease, so he agreed to keep a low profile for a while before they brought in other people with more background to discuss how to deal with it.

Maybe I should borrow some money from them and pay the damn rent first? Sitting on the chair and rubbing his face with his hands to relieve fatigue, Thomas Hart suddenly had such an idea, then he shook his head with a wry smile, clenched his hands into fists and squeezed vigorously, sighed a little dejectedly, and was about to Get up and prepare to sort out the backup and find a safe place to hide it.

Then, a voice sounded: "Sorry, I don't think you have anything to drink here, so I made myself a cup of instant coffee, would you mind?"

Hart was startled by the intrusion of other voices, almost threw the backpack in his hand, knocked down another chair, and then calmed down a little, then grabbed something and looked nervously at the sudden The person who appeared in his room: "Who are you? What do you want to do?!"

"Relax, Mr. Thomas Hart, the plastic inflatable bat in your hand poses no threat to me. You don't have any suitable self-defense tools in your room, no guns, knives, or even baseball bats." The other party said in a gentle tone .

It was a middle-aged man of indeterminate age, maybe 35 years old, maybe 45 years old, with a very mediocre face, so mediocre that you might forget it when you turn your head. He stood in a suit and leather shoes at the door of Hart's remodeled darkroom, holding a cup in his hand, looking calm and at ease.

"I also didn't bring any lethal things. Of course, I admit that I brought a few bodyguards, but they were all outside, downstairs," he casually walked to his old sofa and sat down, as if As if at home, "So, sit down and talk to me, Mr. Hart."

"Who are you?" Although he guessed a little bit, Hart couldn't help asking, and kept holding on to the plastic inflatable stick in his hand.

"My name is Martin Mortimer," said the other with a gesture of sitting up with his legs up. "Mr. Adrian Cowell's personal representative."

Thomas Hart's heart suddenly sank. Although he already smelled something bad, he didn't expect it to be so. What exactly is going on? He just went to Ruffalo yesterday, why did the media tycoon come to him today? It seems that he also searched his own room, who betrayed everyone? !

"Really?" Hart told the running head to squeeze out a smile, "So, what do you want to do next? Find a bag to put me in, and then throw it into the sea?"

"How could that be?" Mortimer laughed, spreading his hands. "We are law-abiding citizens."

Seeing his demeanor, Hart also slightly let go of his raised heart. It looks like they're here to negotiate. Then, a thought immediately popped up in his mind, which made him a little excited, but at the same time he also gave birth to some hesitation. If the other party knew about it... But it can bring more to him, and it can also make him safer. Guaranteed, it is impossible for them to be so familiar with themselves, let alone know what they are carrying.

"Okay." Hart swallowed, tried his best to keep calm, straightened his clothes, and sat down in front of Mortimer, "What do you want to do?"

"No, Mr. Hart. You should say what you want to do." Mortimer immediately kicked the ball back.

"What else can you do? This is big news. The most powerful man in Hollywood and some of the most famous stars in Hollywood are having a sex party by the beach. This will attract quite a lot of attention. No matter which newspaper publishes With this news, the circulation will go up several steps." Hart said, licking his lips.

"Do you think the readers will believe it? Two Oscar winners for Best Actress, two Oscar winners for Best Supporting Actress, two most popular idol singers, and two popular lingerie models, Hosting a sex party with the most powerful man in Hollywood?" Mortimer asked calmly with a smile on his face.

"Why don't you believe it? Everyone knows that Director Miracle is a playboy, and every Miracle girl has an affair with him, not to mention..." Hart smiled, "There are so many photos."

"It was synthesized with p." Mortimer said lightly.

"What?" Hart frowned.

"The programmers of be company will be happy to demonstrate to the jury how such photos are synthesized, and are willing to provide a method to identify the difference between the synthesized photos and normal photos," Mortimer said briskly. "And then, when the news gets out and people start to doubt the whole thing, someone will come forward very quickly, the owner of a porn site that makes composite photos of celebrities to sell for money. He will admit that someone I ordered these photos from him. He didn't pay attention to it at first. He didn't realize how wrong he was until this case came out. He is not a good person, but he also has his own bottom line. Mr. Cowell's charitable fund has helped him Overcoming the difficulties of life.”

Hart's face turned pale, and he basically understood it here. If it is really reported, then Adrian will sue as soon as possible, and all the back-hands have been arranged... How is this possible? ? !

"I can testify that I saw it with my own eyes..." He still wanted to struggle.

"The jury will not believe a person who has a history of fraud, especially because he divorced his wife and was banned by the court from approaching his children." Mortimer threw another blockbuster.

"That bastard framed me!" Hart's face flushed immediately, and he shouted with a thick neck. The calmness he had tried to maintain before was completely broken. This was the greatest pain in his heart.

"I believe this, especially after reading your relevant materials, and express my sympathy," Mortimer remained calm, "but you have to convince the jury and the court. Of course, maybe There will be fame-hungry lawyers who will help you fight for free, but believe me, most of the media groups will be on our side and the jury won't let them."

The intentions of so blatantly dividing the jury into his own side are obvious. Hart took a few breaths, and finally restrained himself again, but he didn't speak any more, just stared at Mortimer, even so, he still had one trick at least.

It's a pity that Mortimer kept calm all the time. Obviously, he guessed his plan. After he calmed down, he opened his coat. Just above the right side of the inside, there was a small rectangular black box hanging upright. I don't know where the few lines are connected.

"A recording jammer recently ordered by the Pentagon has been used in the same way as A. It is not for civilian use, whether it is tape recording or digital recording, and it cannot be escaped." Mortimer explained calmly.

Hart was dumbfounded, looking in disbelief.

"Try it," Mortimer raised his hand, "I believe you have more than one recorder here, just find one and try."

Although he warned himself not to believe the sweet words of the other party, he still involuntarily stretched his hand into his bosom, took out the recording pen that was turned on by tidying up his clothes, and raised it to his ear. Staring at Mortimer, tremblingly pressed the play button. Immediately, his face turned ashen, and the only sound coming from the recording pen was rustling.

The other party was so impeccable. Not only did he find all his information in a short period of time, but he also took everything into consideration, making all his methods useless. The desperate Hart finally understood. Ruffalo talks about what it means to say he's too shallow, and Adrian's enormous energy.

"What do you want to do?" With a pale face, he flopped on the chair like a deflated rubber ball.

Mortimer smiled slightly, and his mood didn't seem to have changed: "A check for 2 million, visitation rights for your son, and an opportunity for further education."

"Ah?" Thomas Hart opened his eyes wide and looked at the middle-aged man in front of him in a daze.

"If you pass the further study, you will get a letter of recommendation, and you will be assigned to some famous magazines or newspapers based on your final grades, and then you will be promoted to the position of supervisor within a few years," Mortimer continued, "If you fail. You You can get another check for 3 million and an air ticket to Monaco—of course, if you are not interested in further studies, you can directly get a check for 5 million and an air ticket to Monaco.”

Hart couldn't understand more and more that the other party had done so many things to shatter his confidence so thoroughly. In the end, such a generous condition was offered? Why is that? But he quickly realized that even though all the hole cards were taken to death by the opponent, his head did not completely become a mess because of it. It's normal for the other party to do this, and it's probably the same for me. In the negotiation, whoever can see through the opponent's cards first can take the initiative.

From this point of view, their negotiations are still very sincere. Moreover, although the person in front of him tried his best to beat him, his tone of voice was never condescending, just why such a condition... Wait!

With a flash of inspiration in his mind, Hart suddenly raised his head: "Mark Ruffalo, editor-in-chief of the entertainment section of the Los Angeles Times! And Louis Hoffman, editor-in-chief of the Los Angeles bureau of the New York Times!"

After a pause, he took a deep breath before he said, "If I'm not mistaken, so is the editor-in-chief of the Washington Post's Los Angeles branch."

Mortimer clapped his hands lightly: "You are a smart man, Mr. Hart. After reading your information in detail, I have come to this judgment. Even if your colleague betrayed you, you can still catch him." Loopholes and prosecutors made a deal in their own favor, avoiding jail time despite the disgrace, so I made a proposal to my boss, so - can you give me an answer?"

"I promise." Thomas Hart gave an affirmative answer with a slight movement of his throat. With his son's visitation rights, he couldn't refuse, not to mention that he needed a chance now.

"Very well, then let's go." Mortimer stood up immediately.

"Go?" Hart was a little confused.

"Yes, these are enough to sell everything you have here," Mortimer said, handing over a check for $100,000. "You don't have backups elsewhere, do you?"

"Of course not." Mortimer reacted immediately, and couldn't help laughing, "Do you need me to put this suit here too?"

"No, but it's best to keep everything on your body except the necessary things, such as keys and driver's license." Mortimer said unceremoniously, "I can ask someone to help you find a house suitable for renting, and you can also Do it yourself."

"Okay, okay." Hart took some small things out of his pocket and threw them on the ground, then took the check and left the room with Mortimer.

Then, Mortimer put his hand in his pocket and pressed something, and two capable men came up from the stairs, and after he nodded, they went into the room to pack up.

"You are really impeccable in everything you do." Watching them enter the house, Hart sighed with some nostalgia. Although there were no valuable things, some of them spent a long time with him.

But he quickly came to his senses, this is not bad, it is a complete cut with the past.

"You must have the trust of Mr. Cowell." He said so immediately.

"Thank you for the compliment," Mortimer patted him on the shoulder, "Let's go, I can give you a ride, which hotel do you plan to stay in?"

After leaving the apartment door and getting into Mortimer's car, Hart finally couldn't hold back: "What if I always disagree? What if I insist on going public anyway?"

"Why do you ask this question?" Mortimer raised his eyebrows.

"I'm just curious," Hart seemed to be explaining something, "I believe that you have definitely not prepared such a method, and I also believe that Mr. Kewell will never be willing to make this matter public, or even bring it to court , although the time is short, I still read some information about him, and I heard that he...has a good reputation in some aspects, and he is very defensive."

Mortimer, who put his hands on the steering wheel, couldn't help but chuckled, and patted Hart on the shoulder after a while: "You know, Mr. Hart, the United States is a big country with millions of square miles. area and a population of 300-400 million, so ... there will never be fewer homeless men with guns and drunk truck drivers."

After speaking, he smiled again, and then started the car. Hart sat in the co-pilot's seat for a while before he realized it. He glanced at Mortimer who was concentrating on driving, and then sighed.

"Law-abiding citizens..." he muttered half-mockingly, half-sigh.

Then, Hart lowered his head and clenched his fist tightly, he didn't need to worry about those anymore, he had already made a choice, he was already on board, this is a very good opportunity, all he has to do is Hold on tight! (To be continued..)