431-435

Chapter 431: Off-the-Board Moves  

Ever since he started his company, Dunn’s been bulldozing his way through Hollywood—taking down anyone in his path like a rocket shooting straight to the top.  

The one time he backed off? When he faced Summer Redstone.  

To avoid clashing with her, Dunn handed Six Feet Under over to H, a rival of TA.  

Word from the inside says Htie TV raked in nearly a million new household subscribers thanks to the Six Feet Under rerun!  

And now, after Band of Brothers finished its first run, they want a piece of that too?  

Talk about taking shameless to a whole new level!  

Giving Six Feet Under to H was already Dunn swallowing his pride and giving Summer plenty of respect.  

But now H’s acting like they can just waltz in and grab the rerun rights to Band of Brothers too? That’s pushing it way too far!  

Dunn slammed his fist on the table, his face turning red with fury. “This is too much!” he roared.  

Bill McNick’s expression darkened too. “They’re treating us like pushovers!”  

“Huh?”  

Dunn shot him a curious glance. It wasn’t often he saw this old guy get so fired up.  

“Band of Brothers has too much pull! Even as a rerun, it’ll draw a massive audience. The six stations airing it—aside from us at Tar—are all basic cable channels. They can only show the edited version. That’ll just drive more viewers to Tar for the full cut. But if Htie gets the rerun rights too, that’s splitting the audience—stealing our business!”  

Bill’s breakdown made total sense.  

TA and H are rivals. Dunn Films shelled out a fortune for those TV rights—why would they turn around and prop up the competition? That’d be nuts!  

Summer move here was pure big-shot bullying—breaking market rules and throwing her weight around!  

Dunn swung a fist through the air. “No way in hell Band of Brothers airs on Htie! Screw that—none of our original shows are ever going their way again!”  

Bill’s voice dropped low. “Summer cunning, ruthless, and a master of dirty tricks. We can’t let our guard down.”  

“I know that old hag’s a beast, but she doesn’t get to do whatever she wants!” Dunn was livid. Summer acting like this was some big-fish-eats-little-fish game, treating him like a shrimp?  

“You remember last year’s Viacom-Disney showdown, right?”  

“Of course! Viacom’s B network and Disney’s AB went head-to-head for market share. B threw Survivor and CSI at Who Wants to Be a Millionaire and beat it to a pulp, crushing AB’s momentum completely.”  

Bill nodded. “You’re right. But… you know I came up through Disney. Still got a few buddies over there. Heard a different story the other day.”  

“What?”  

“Summer didn’t win clean.”  

“Huh?”  

Dunn’s jaw dropped. Was Bill hinting at some underhanded move?  

“Outside of California and Florida, Disney’s got parks in Tokyo and Paris too,” Bill explained. “Tokyo’s the top performer.”  

Dunn nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why this September, Disney teamed up with Japan to invest in that new seaside park.”  

Bill continued, “The talks actually started last year. It’s a U.S.-Japan joint venture—over $3 billion in funding! That kind of cash flow, with all the approvals and red tape, needs oversight and legal green lights from both governments.”  

Dunn’s eyes widened, disbelief written all over his face. “Wait—what? Are you saying Summer sabotaged it?”  

“Summer did her time in the military way back—cracked codes and all that. After decades in the game, her connections in Congress blow Disney’s out of the water. To push the new park through, Disney had to cave.”  

“Damn it, that Summer gone too far!”  

Even though Dunn and Disney were sworn enemies, hearing about Summer sleazy tactics made him feel a rare spark of solidarity.  

The market’s the market—fair competition or cutthroat, fine. Everyone plays by the rules of the game.  

But Summer pulling political strings to mess with a business rivalry? That’s not just power—it’s cheating!  

It’s like playing football, and she’s charging down the field with a machine gun. Even if she wins, who’s gonna respect that?  

No wonder Summer rep in the industry stinks. It’s not just her messy family life—divorced, kids estranged—it’s these slimy behind-the-scenes stunts that make people sick!  

Dunn gritted his teeth. “This push for Band of Brothers rerun rights—did Summer personally call it in?”  

“No, it came from B’s head honcho.”  

“Then it’s simple—tell ‘em no!”  

Dunn waved a hand, his tone sharp and unyielding.  

Bill hesitated. “I think… you should probably clear this with Summer yourself. No need to burn bridges. Her influence is huge, and we’re trying to buy Universal. That needs the Feds’ okay.”  

Dunn let out a cold laugh. “Explain? Explain jack! I’ve given Summer respect as an elder, and she’s treating me like a kid to toy with! She doesn’t want face? Fine—tell her to get lost and stay out of my way! I’m done playing with her!”  

Bill flinched. “Dunn, don’t let your temper take over!”  

Dunn sighed, shaking his head. “Relax, I’m not dumb enough to go full scorched-earth with her. Our American Idol’s airing on B in February, right? No biggie. Even if Band of Brothers stirs up some drama, Idol’s gonna keep her grinning ear to ear.”  

Of course, if it really came to a showdown, Dunn wouldn’t back down either!  

Things were different now compared to six months ago.  

Dunn Films had two new heavyweights on board: strategic advisor Jack Welch and CEO Brandi Norris!  

Jack Welch ran General Electric for over 20 years, building a $450 billion empire. His Capitol Hill ties? They rival Summer —maybe even beat ‘em!  

Brandi Norris came from Goldman Sachs. Everyone knows Goldman’s got deep roots in the Treasury and the Fed.  

If Summer dared to meddle with Dunn’s Universal acquisition, he had his own direct lines to the political bigwigs.  

If it came to that, it’d be an all-out war—no holds barred!  

Dunn’s mind was made up, and he wasn’t budging. Bill knew that look—pure confidence—and was used to Dunn calling the shots.  

So he switched gears. “Oh, there’s something else you’ll wanna hear.”  

“What?”  

“Word is… Michael Bay’s got a new gig.”  

“Huh?”  

Dunn blinked, surprised. After Pearl Harbor bombed, Michael Bay’s flaws were laid bare—great at explosions, terrible at emotions. That’s a glaring weakness for directing big commercial flicks.  

Romance is often a must-have in blockbusters, after all.  

Who’d be bold enough to hire him now?  

Bill explained, “Sony Pictures. Back in the day, Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay teamed up for Bad Boys. $19 million budget, $140 million at the box office—huge hit.”  

Dunn snapped his fingers. “So they’re rebooting the sequel?”  

“Yup. Columbia Pictures has been struggling lately. They’ve been hounding Bruckheimer to get Bad Boys II off the ground. Thing is, the past few years, Jerry’s been riding high, and Bay’s been climbing too. No real need for a sequel.”  

Dunn nodded. “But now, with Pearl Harbor tanking, a lot of Hollywood studios are steering clear of Bay’s bad luck. So Bad Boys II got greenlit. Sony needs a win, and Bruckheimer and Bay need a movie to prove themselves again.”  

Bill agreed. “Looks like they’re all on the same page.”  

Dunn went quiet, mulling it over.  

Bad Boys II—$130 million budget, $138 million in North America, $134 million overseas. Box office-wise, it’s another flop—worse than Pearl Harbor.  

But it’s peak Michael Bay: fast-paced, massive explosions, thrilling action. A classic ‘90s action flick that did solid in the ancillary markets.  

Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay have been at it for years—they oughta take a break!  

Dunn wasn’t about to give them another shot! 

Chapter 432: Screams Galore 

Surviving as a woman in Hollywood is no walk in the park.  

The ones who make it to the forefront usually have guts and grit in spades. Take Nina Jacobson, president of Marvel Studios, or Katsura Kennedy, head of Rose Pictures—both are standouts, earning mad respect.  

The same goes for Emi Pascal, chair of Columbia Pictures.  

She took the reins amid controversy and, sure, she hasn’t turned a profit yet, but the success of Charlie’s Angels—a film all about female empowerment—proves she’s got chops.  

Problem is, now she’s itching to reboot Bad Boys II with Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay, and that rubs Dunn Dunn the wrong way.  

Dunn picked up the phone himself. “Emi, it’s Dunn.”  

Last time, when he wanted to blacklist Rush Hour director Brett Ratner, Emi Pascal was quick to back him up.  

But this time, she hesitated. “Dunn? Look, if you heard we’re restarting Bad Boys II and want to talk about it, I’m sorry—I can’t do much.”  

Dunn cut in, “Bad Boys is a solid project, and a sequel makes sense. But Emi, as a friend, I’d suggest switching up the team. Michael Bay’s washed up, and Jerry Bruckheimer? Total flop. His marketing plan for Pearl Harbor is a textbook disaster.”  

Emi went quiet for a sec. “Dunn, I can’t give you an answer on this. Bad Boys II is a big deal, and my bosses at Sony Pictures are keeping a tight leash. I’ve got no room to push back.”  

Dunn frowned. “Emi, I’m telling you straight—if you stick with Jerry Bruckheimer, Bad Boys II will tank! It’ll ruin the whole franchise.”  

Emi sighed. “Dunn, I get that you’ve got beef with them, but that can’t dictate Columbia’s bottom line, right? Pearl Harbor bombed, sure, but war films aren’t Michael Bay’s wheelhouse. Bad Boys II is action, guns blazing—his comfort zone. We know he’s got a track record with this stuff.”  

Dunn’s tone sharpened. “Well, good luck with that!”  

He’d rather take control himself than bank on someone else.  

Dealing with Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay? Others might help, but Dunn was the main force.  

Bruckheimer’s producing Black Hawk Down, set to hit theaters in January—same slot as Resident Evil.  

The original, directed by big-shot Ridley Scott, still flopped at the box office. This version’s helmed by some no-name, Simon West—think it’ll do any better?  

Even if Sony and Columbia were dead-set on teaming up with Bruckheimer and Bay for Bad Boys II, Dunn had a backup plan.  

When the time came, he’d make them regret it so hard they wouldn’t even have a corner to cry in!  

Sayuri Johansson was still a small-time actress, picking up bit parts here and there, always on the fringes.  

Her family wasn’t loaded either—she was hustling in Hollywood on her own dime.  

She rented an apartment in downtown LA. Judging by the handful of beat-up sedans parked out front, her friends weren’t exactly rolling in cash either.  

Dunn knew this was a young crowd’s hangout, so he ditched the suit. Still, his black Armani trench coat stuck out like a sore thumb.  

Sofia Coppola tagged along, smirking. “Relax, let’s go!”  

Dunn waved off his bodyguards. “You guys stay down here—no big deal.”  

They took the elevator to the fifth floor, and as soon as the doors opened, blaring music hit them from the end of the hall.  

Dunn blinked. “This doesn’t bug the neighbors?”  

Sofia cracked up. “Wow, you’re such a rich guy—clueless about regular life, huh? It’s an apartment, not your fancy mansion. Parties wrap up by 10 p.m.!”  

Dunn clutched a small gift box, still uneasy. “No side entrance? We’re just walking straight in?”  

“What’s the problem?”  

“Too flashy. Feels off.”  

Sofia giggled, rolling her eyes playfully. “Big shot, Sayuri’s friends are all small-time Hollywood actors. I bet half the guys here have a secret crush on her. You show up, they’ll back off—no competition for you!”  

“Competition? Cut it out!” Dunn shot her a look, adjusting his collar as he steeled himself to head in. Curiosity got the better of him, though, and he leaned in, whispering, “Sofia, be real with me—is she… you know, still a girl?”  

“Are you seriously that bored? Girl, woman—what’s it matter?”  

“It matters a ton!”  

“Whatever! Ask her yourself if you’re so obsessed!”  

Sofia huffed, then rang the doorbell.  

A moment later, the door swung open, revealing two youthful, radiant faces—one unfamiliar, one way too familiar.  

Sayuri’s eyes sparkled, pure and stunning at first glance. But look closer, and there was a subtle, teasing charm flickering in those watery depths—a little flirty, a little captivating, the kind of vibe that only hit you if you really paid attention.  

She stood there, graceful in a snowy white dress, already hinting at the “heartthrob” status she’d grow into.  

Dunn almost held his breath. This was the closest he’d ever been to her.  

Sayuri spotted Sofia, her eyes lighting up. “Sofia! I’m so glad you made it!”  

Sofia gave her a light hug. “Happy 17th, sweetie—you look gorgeous!”  

“Thanks!”  

“Oh, and I brought a friend along.”  

“Huh?”  

Before Sayuri could turn, her buddy next to her let out a piercing “Eek!”—so loud the whole floor probably heard it.  

The commotion drew a crowd from inside the apartment.  

“What’s going on?”  

“Did something happen?”  

“Are the neighbors complaining?”  

“The music’s not even that loud…”  

“Ahhh!!!”  

A few girls dashed to the door and screeched in unison.  

The guys freaked out, rushing over to check things out—one even grabbed a kitchen knife on the way.  

Dunn couldn’t help but laugh. He hadn’t been gawked at like a zoo panda in forever—mostly because he rarely showed up to low-key gatherings like this.  

There was another reason too: Natsuki’s crowd was a different breed. She hung with elite, high-achieving types. Dunn had met her friends—sure, they got excited, but nothing like this chaos.  

Sayuri’s circle was clearly more grassroots, laid-back, and starstruck.  

“Hey, everyone!”  

Dunn flashed his signature grin, waving. “Uh, buddy, mind putting the weapon down?”  

“Haha!”  

The teens blocking the doorway burst into laughter, staring at Dunn with starry-eyed awe.  

Most of them were actors too—bit players like Sayuri, scraping by on the edges.  

To them, Dunn was a god on a pedestal.  

After cracking a joke, he turned back to Sayuri. She was covering her mouth in shock, eyes misty and on the verge of tears.  

Dunn smiled softly, handing her the gift box. “Miss Johansson, happy birthday!” Then he called out, “And happy Thanksgiving, everyone!”  

“Haha!”  

“Director Walker, I love you!”  

“Kate, chill—he’s here for Sayuri!”  

“Sayuri, open it—what’s inside?”  

Dunn was at a loss.  

Maybe he was too old for this, or these kids were just too wild. They didn’t even invite him in—just clamored for Sayuri to rip open the gift right there.  

Sayuri was only 17, caught up in the thrill and curiosity. She hadn’t rubbed elbows with high society yet, so she didn’t know guest etiquette—just went with the flow like her friends.  

At everyone’s urging, she tore into the box at the door, revealing a dazzling black-and-white mother-of-pearl necklace.  

“Wow! So pretty—$2,000, easy!”  

“Nah, more like $3,000!”  

“It’s stunning—I’d wake up laughing if I owned one!”  

Sofia stood beside Dunn at the threshold, equally amused and exasperated. This crew was too green, too hyper—Sayuri’s circle wasn’t doing her career any favors.  

Especially if she wanted to fit into Dunn’s world.  

“Alright, it’s a Van Cleef & Arpels classic—price doesn’t matter. Put it away; it’s from Dunn,” Sofia said, nudging Sayuri forward.  

Sayuri snapped out of her daze, her flushed cheeks glowing with excitement. She was radiant, almost otherworldly. “Mr. Walker, thank you! This is the most precious birthday gift I’ve ever gotten!” 

Chapter 433: Twin Siblings  

Scarlett’s apartment isn’t big—just two bedrooms, one living room, and a bathroom. She shares a room with her older sister, Vanessa Johnson, while their fraternal twin brother, Hunter Johnson, takes the other bedroom.  

Growing up, life wasn’t easy for the three siblings.  

Their dad’s a Danish architect with some money to his name. But here’s the catch: their parents never married—just lived together and had four kids. After the split, their mom brought Scarlett and Hunter back to the U.S., where things got tight financially.  

Since Scarlett and Hunter were cute kids—and twins to boot—they caught people’s eyes. Their mom started dragging them to auditions: commercials, music videos, TV shows, movies—you name it.  

Hunter eventually got phased out, but Scarlett started making a name for herself in films.  

Now, Scarlett’s got enough going for her to live on her own. Vanessa, the eldest and newly adult, caught the movie bug too, so she’s moved out to LA with her little sister and brother.  

As for their mom? She’s back in New York, chasing a new romance!  

It’s past 9 p.m., and the party crew is starting to peel out. It’s an apartment, after all—too much noise this late, and the neighbors will complain.  

Before Sofia Coppola heads out, she tosses Dunn a half-smirk, half-teasing look.  

Dunn ignores it, casually slipping on his jacket without a rush. Once the living room clears out, he turns to Scarlett with a grin. “It’s still early. How about… we take a walk?”  

“A walk?” Scarlett blinks, caught off guard. It’s past 9 p.m.—kinda late for that, right? She hesitates. “The area next door’s a slum. Not exactly safe.”  

Dunn shrugs it off. “I’ve got a car. We could hit Beverly Hills, Palos Verdes, or Santa Monica—wherever you want.”  

At night, the slums are dicey, but the rich neighborhoods? Top-notch security!  

“Uh…”  

“Come on, let’s go. It’s your birthday, after all.”  

Dunn’s smile is warm and bright.  

The party was loud—his ears are still ringing—and he barely got a word in with Scarlett. Plus, all those flirty girls throwing themselves at him like wild animals? Annoying.  

Dunn’s seen plenty of gorgeous women. Right now, he’s only got eyes for Scarlett Johnson!  

Scarlett bites her lip, cheeks flushing. “Okay… hold on, I’ll go change.”  

Back in her bedroom, that shy, delicate vibe vanishes. Her face lights up like a starry sky as she cheers, “He asked me out! He asked me out!”  

She tries to keep her voice down, but the excitement’s bursting out—she’s practically bouncing.  

Vanessa’s preening in front of the mirror, showing off the necklace Dunn gave Scarlett. Hunter’s sulking on the bed, surrounded by birthday gifts he couldn’t care less about.  

Compared to what Dunn got Scarlett, his haul’s trash! (They’re twins—same birthday.)  

Hearing Scarlett’s squeal, Vanessa’s eyes sparkle. She rushes over, grabbing her sister’s hands. “Who asked you out? Mr. Walker?”  

“It’s him! It’s totally him!”  

“Wow, hon, congrats! Congrats!”  

The sisters clasp hands, jumping up and down like they just won the lottery, buzzing with uncontainable glee.  

Hunter, off to the side, sneers. “It’s just a date. You think he’d actually fall for you? You’re so ugly!”  

Scarlett snaps, “One more word, and you’re not getting a dime of my money from now on!”  

Vanessa glares at him too. “You idiot, can’t you read the room? She’s going out with Dunn Walker! He’s not just a director—he’s a mega-rich guy! What’s a birthday gift? If they start dating, anything you want’s just a word from your sister!”  

“Huh? For real?”  

Hunter bolts upright, staring at Scarlett with hopeful eyes.  

Scarlett gives him a cool side-eye. “Look at you, so pathetic!”  

“Heh, sis!” Hunter instantly softens, sidling up to her with a goofy grin, tugging her arm. “Sis, you’re the best! You’re the prettiest woman in the world! We’re twins—closest family ever. Back when we were broke, Mom always gave you the best stuff. Now that you’re about to make it big, you can’t forget me, right?”  

Scarlett’s heart melts a little. She brushes his cheek with a sigh. “Fine. What do you want? I’ll try to mention it to him.”  

“Woah, sis, you’re the best sister ever!” Hunter’s so thrilled he almost hugs her, but catches Vanessa’s sour look and hugs her too, chuckling. “I want a sports car! Lamborghini’s cool, Maybach’s fine, but I really love Maserati!”  

Vanessa grits her teeth, fuming at her little brother. “Maserati? Why not ask for a Boeing 747 while you’re at it?”  

Scarlett waves it off lightly. “Whatever, Maserati—I’ll remember that.”  

Vanessa’s jaw drops. “What are you saying? A Maserati’s at least a hundred grand!”  

“A hundred grand?” Scarlett smirks, nodding at the necklace around Vanessa’s neck. “Know how much that’s worth?”  

“Huh?”  

“It’s a Van Cleef & Arpels 50th-anniversary limited edition—only 50 made worldwide, a collector’s piece. Price tag? No less than $300,000!”  

“What?!”  

Vanessa gasps, and even Hunter—who couldn’t care less about jewelry—gapes, mouth wide enough to fit an egg.  

Vanessa swallows hard. “Ingrid, you… you sure you didn’t get that wrong?”  

Scarlett shakes her head. “Sofia whispered it to me during the party. You think she’d mess that up?”  

“Uh…”  

Vanessa sucks in another sharp breath.  

Sofia Coppola’s from a fancy family and a fashion guru. If she says it’s $300K+, it’s legit.  

Hunter mumbles, dazed, “First meeting, and he drops a gift like that? No wonder Mr. Walker’s got all those hot girls—guy’s loaded!”  

“Get out! I need to change!”  

Scarlett glares and kicks him out.  

Once Hunter’s gone, Vanessa shakily takes off the necklace and digs out a new jacket from her closet. “Ingrid, I bought this last week—never worn it. Try it on, see if it fits?”  

Scarlett doesn’t argue, slipping it on. She’s broke and doesn’t have nice clothes—this first date’s gotta look perfect.  

“Sis, should we tell Mom?”  

“Nah… no need, right?” Vanessa wavers, then firms up. “No need. I’m your guardian now, and I say it’s fine to go!”  

“But… what if he wants me to stay over?” Scarlett’s cheeks heat up.  

Vanessa laughs. “That’s normal! It’s late—you’re not expecting him to drive you back in the middle of the night, are you?”  

Scarlett hesitates. “But it’s our first time meeting. Isn’t that too fast?”  

“Hmm… fair point.” Vanessa’s been around—five or six boyfriends under her belt—but Dunn’s a different beast, and she’s stumped. “Your case is kinda special. If he doesn’t respect you and treats you like some random fling, that’d suck.”  

“So what do I do?” Scarlett stomps, deflating. “I wanna be a big star and live in a mansion!”  

Vanessa perks up. “Ask Ms. Coppola! You’re friends, right? She’d know.”  

“Right!”  

Scarlett’s eyes brighten. She quickly dials Sofia, keeping her voice low and rushed. “Sofia, Mr. Walker asked me out—what do I do? Huh? I… yeah, totally! When have you ever seen me with a boyfriend? …Oh, that simple?”  

The call’s over in under a minute, and Scarlett hangs up, dazed.  

“Well?”  

“She said not to worry.”  

Scarlett blinks, totally lost.  

Vanessa frowns. “What’d she say exactly?”  

“She asked if I’ve had a boyfriend these past few years, if I’m still… you know, pure. I said yeah. Then she said Mr. Walker’s got this medieval conservative vibe and to just relax.”  

“What?”  

Vanessa’s baffled. Medieval conservatism? What’s that supposed to mean?  

“Whatever! He’s a big director, a billionaire—he’s not gonna mess with a nobody like me!”  

Scarlett takes a deep breath, letting Vanessa help her get ready. She puts on light, elegant makeup, then steps out into the living room.  

Hunter’s there, chatting up Dunn. When he spots Scarlett, he hollers dramatically, “Sis, you’re gorgeous!”  

Scarlett rolls her eyes and stands there, poised, lips pursed, gazing at Dunn.  

“Beautiful!”  

“Thanks.”  

Dunn offers his arm. Scarlett pauses, then flashes a charming smile with a hint of flirtation, gliding over to take it.  

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches Hunter pumping his fist, cheering her on.  

“You smell amazing.”  

“Thanks.”  

In the elevator, Dunn’s gaze gets bold, roaming over her. It’s winter, so she’s bundled up, but those full, curvy lines? No hiding them.  

“You’ve got an incredible figure!”  

“Thanks.”  

Dunn chuckles. “Just as stunning as Charlie!”  

Scarlett’s cheeks warm. “Charlie?”  

“Charlize Theron. You’ve probably heard of her.”  

“Oh.”  

Of course Scarlett knows Charlize Theron—she’s a huge star! Hearing Dunn’s familiar tone stings a little with jealousy. “I looked up her stats. Our busts are the same. But I’m only 17—give me a couple years, and I’ll outshine her!” 

Chapter 434: Sayuri  

Dunn strolled hand-in-hand with Sayuri Johansson down Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. Too bad it was Thanksgiving—the usual buzz was gone, leaving the street quiet.  

Perfect for some alone time, though.  

“There are two guys following us,” Sayuri whispered, sounding a little nervous.  

Dunn chuckled. “Those are my bodyguards.”  

Sayuri stuck out her tongue, relieved.  

“By the way, I heard your sister… calls you Ingrid?”  

“Oh, that’s my middle name. I’m Sayuri Ingrid Johansson.”  

Dunn grinned. “Sayuri and Ingrid—sounds like your mom had acting in mind for you from day one!”  

“Sayuri” was straight out of Gone with the Wind, Vivien Leigh’s iconic role, while “Ingrid” screamed Hollywood royalty—Ingrid Bergman, the First Lady of the silver screen.  

Sayuri smirked, giggling. “I started auditioning for commercials when I was tiny. Back then, though, the grown-ups liked my brother Hunter more. But once Mom sent me to acting classes, he couldn’t keep up!”  

Dunn nodded. “Hunter… I’ve chatted with him a bit. Great kid, just not cut out for acting.”  

“Huh? Why not?”  

“He’s too tall! He’s 17 and already my height—probably still got three or four inches to go. Handsome guy, but that height? Tough to find roles that fit.”  

“Oh.” Sayuri’s face fell, her mood dipping. “But he still wants to act.”  

Dunn shook his head. “Why force it? He’s sharp as a tack—switch gears, and he could have a killer future.”  

“Him?” Sayuri pouted. “He’s a mess sometimes. But… his grades are solid. He could totally get into a top school.”  

Dunn smiled faintly.  

Hunter Johansson often popped up alongside Sayuri in his past life—became a political and business hotshot, even advising a U.S. president’s campaign. A 17-year-old in his rebel phase doing dumb stuff? Totally normal.  

“Let him focus on school and finish his degree. If he needs a boost after college, I can help out.”  

“Really?”  

Sayuri’s emerald-green eyes lit up, practically sparkling.  

Dunn brushed a hand through her bronze-blonde hair. A gust of cold wind whipped by, and she shivered. “It’s freezing!”  

“Wanna head back?”  

“Maybe… let’s walk a bit more?”  

She wasn’t sure what “back” meant or where he’d take her, and it made her a little jittery.  

Dunn spread his arms, grinning. “It’s getting windy—wanna huddle up for warmth?”  

Sayuri looked up with a shy smile and eased into his embrace. “So… what’s your plan with me?”  

Dunn hugged her curvy frame, feeling her softness even through layers of clothes. It stirred him up a bit. “What about you? Got any big dreams?”  

“I wanna be a star—like Natsuki Portman! I’d get my sister tons of new clothes, make sure my brother can study without worrying about tuition—oh, and buy him a Maserati, he’s obsessed! If there’s extra, I’d send some to Mom. She’s got a new family in New York now.”  

It spilled out fast, like she’d been mulling it over forever.  

Dunn kept his poker face, but inside, he sighed.  

In his past life, Sayuri and Natsuki were tight—besties for a while.  

Sayuri was up for V for Vendetta but bailed for The Island instead. She’d done a ton of artsy films and wanted a commercial hit, so she took the gig and tossed Natsuki’s name to the Vendetta director. That’s how Natsuki nailed that iconic role.  

Later, Natsuki landed The Other Boleyn Girl. The book was hot, and a dual-female-lead British drama screamed awards bait.  

The studio locked Natsuki in first—she was the biggest 80s-born actress around. She pushed hard for Sayuri, flat-out refusing to sign on unless Sayuri played her sister.  

Everyone thought these two 80s leading ladies would clash, but they killed it together.  

At the premiere, paparazzi even caught them locking lips.  

Too bad the director sucked—a great story turned into a dud. Still, Natsuki and Sayuri were the film’s shining stars.  

Then Black Swan came along and cooled things off.  

The director, Darren Aronofsky, was Natsuki’s old Harvard buddy. He’d spent a decade crafting that script just for her. She was the lead but basically co-produced it too.  

For the supporting role, Natsuki picked another ballet-trained friend, Mila Kunis.  

Sayuri, after years of indie films with zero Oscar nods, was desperate for a breakout. When Natsuki went with Mila for such a juicy part, Sayuri wasn’t happy.  

Their friendship went from warm to frosty after that.  

Dunn let out a quiet sigh.  

“You know her?”  

“Who?”  

“Natsuki.”  

Sayuri pouted. “She’s a huge star—Queen Amidala. I’m just a nobody. How would I ever meet her?”  

Dunn laughed. “I’ll introduce you someday.”  

“Oh.”  

Sayuri’s vibe dimmed. Natsuki was his girlfriend, and that felt… weird to her.  

Dunn caught the look on her face and leaned in close. “What about you? Wanna be my girlfriend?”  

“Huh?” Sayuri froze, like she’d been zapped, jerking her head up. “Me… me?”  

Dunn smirked. “C’mon, my place?”  

“Now?”  

“Wind’s picking up—you’ll catch a cold.”  

“But…”  

Sayuri bit her lip, flustered.  

Dunn kissed her cheek. “Let’s go. I like you a lot.”  

She tilted her head up at him. “Would I really be your girlfriend?”  

Dunn laughed loud. “Depends on how you play it!”  

The next day, Dunn was humming a pop song from his past life, buzzing with energy as he rode his private car to work.  

Then Sofia Coppola called.  

Dunn teased, “Sofia, calling me this early—what’s the order of the day?”  

“Ooh, someone’s chipper!”  

“Heh, not bad, yeah.”  

“Guess last night went well?”  

A smug grin crept onto Dunn’s face. “You’re not wrong. Sayuri… she’s a gem. Total jackpot—I hit the big time!”  

Sofia scoffed. “I’m so done with your creepy little fetish!”  

Dunn shrugged. “You wouldn’t get it! Anyway, Sayuri’s mine now. Look out for her, okay? Especially on set—no funny business with those male actors.”  

Sofia snapped. “What?! Dunn, you’re ridiculous! My Lost in Translation is a romance—how’s there not gonna be contact?”  

Dunn said coolly, “I don’t care. She’s my girl now—no other guy touches her. Swap her out if you have to.”  

“Dunn, you jerk! I’ve got the storyboards done, tailored to her, and you want me to recast? Keep this up, and we’re done!”  

Dunn frowned. “I told you—she can do it, but there’s a catch!”  

“What about the intimate scenes?”  

“Use a stand-in!”  

“Easy for you to say—where am I supposed to find one?”  

Dunn acted like it was obvious. “Cast a wide net! Get a few backups. Any future scenes like that, just use doubles.”  

Sofia gritted her teeth. “You’re unbelievable! Fine, but you’re coughing up an extra $2 million for the budget!”  

“Haha, deal! Sofia, we’re pals—we’ve gotta help each other out, right?” Dunn grinned cheekily. “I’ll handle the budget, but you keep an eye on her on set. What’s mine is mine—no one else gets a piece!”  

“Got it! Dunn, your shamelessness just hit a new level!”  

“Thanks for the compliment.”  

“Get lost, you ass!”  

Sofia hung up with a huff, but then smirked to herself, shaking her head in triumph. She pumped her fist. “Yes! Another $2 million in the bag!”  

The production team had only greenlit Lost in Translation for $4 million total.  

She’d just doubled it! 

Chapter 435: Girlfriend Number Two  

“Ding-dong!”  

The doorbell chimes.  

“Who’s that?” Hunter Johnson yawns, covering his mouth as he shuffles over. He swings the door open, and his face shifts slightly. “Fred, how many times do I gotta tell you? My sister’s not into you!”  

Fred’s dad is a production assistant, which got Fred a few small roles here and there. Six months ago, he spotted Scarlett at an audition, fell head over heels, and launched a full-on pursuit.  

Too bad Scarlett’s been ice-cold to him—she didn’t even tell him about her birthday.  

Fred’s all serious now. “Hunter, I’m here for your sister. I’ve got something important to tell her!”  

“She’s not home.”  

Hunter’s tall frame blocks the doorway, eyes rolling with disdain.  

Fred’s voice drops. “I’ll say it again—I’ve got big news for her, and it’s about her acting career!”  

“Cut the crap and go scam someone else. My sister’s not buying it.” Hunter leans casually against the doorframe, happy to take a few jabs. “Besides, she’s not here. She went out on a date last night—didn’t come back.”  

“You… you’re lying!” Fred’s face turns green.  

Hunter snorts, smirking. “Believe what you want! Now get lost—I’m trying to sleep!”  

Fred panics. “Move! I’m serious—this is urgent!” Then, throwing all manners out the window, he starts yelling into the apartment. “Scarlett, come out! I’ve got great news! My dad’s a producer on Johnny English! It’s a big Universal Pictures blockbuster with Mr. Bean himself! This is your shot—I can put in a word for you!”  

Truth is, his dad’s just a production assistant handling logistics on Johnny English, but to Fred, small-timers like Hunter and Scarlett wouldn’t know the difference between a producer and an assistant.  

Just then, Vanessa Johnson strides over, her face stormy. “What’s with the noise?”  

Fred’s eyes light up. He knows Vanessa’s an actress too—lower on the totem pole than Scarlett. He jumps in quick. “Vanessa, I’ve got awesome news for you and Scarlett! My dad’s producing Johnny English! I can get you both auditions!”  

A while back, Vanessa would’ve rolled out the red carpet for him.  

But things are different now.  

Last night, her little sister Scarlett didn’t come home!  

And who was she out with? None other than Dunn Walker—the biggest name in Hollywood!  

Next to Dunn Walker, Fred and his so-called producer dad are nobodies.  

“Get out. We’re not interested!” Vanessa snaps, shutting him down cold.  

“You—”  

Fred freezes, totally baffled. What’s going on here?  

Suddenly, a rhythmic click of heels echoes behind him: tap, tap, tap…  

Then comes a husky, magnetic voice with a hint of challenge. “Fred, what’re you doing here again?”  

Fred swears he knows that voice, but when he turns around, he’s floored.  

Who’s this bombshell?  

She’s got chestnut-blonde hair cascading freely, black sunglasses giving off a cool, commanding vibe. Her fiery red lips, though, hint at a sultry, seductive charm.  

A scarlet trench coat covers her from head to toe, but it can’t hide her full, curvy figure—like it’s got a magnetic pull, drawing every guy’s gaze.  

This aura, this face, this body, this high-end, polished outfit—she could outshine half the Hollywood A-listers he’s seen on set!  

Fred’s mind blanks. Since when do the Johnsons have friends like this?  

Then Hunter, wide awake now, lets out a dramatic shout and bolts over in his slippers, grabbing Scarlett’s arm with burning excitement. “Sis, you’re stunning! I never realized you were this gorgeous—way hotter than any movie star!”  

Scarlett catches her brother’s gaze, a mix of affection and playful pride. Her chin tilts up naturally, like a regal swan, only making her more dazzling.  

It finally clicks for Fred—this breathtaking woman is Scarlett, the girl he’s been chasing!  

He’s as hyped as Hunter now, yelling and rushing toward her to grab her hand. “Scarlett, it’s you—!”  

Before he can finish—or even touch her—a burly guy standing quietly three meters back springs forward like a cheetah. Without a word, he lands a swift kick!  

His voice is ice-cold, like it’s straight from hell: “Touch her again, and I’ll rip your arm off!”  

Scarlett knows Dunn assigned her this ex-military bodyguard, but seeing him in action sends a shiver down her spine.  

Hunter stares, awestruck, then lets go of Scarlett’s arm too, muttering, “So cool! That’s badass!”  

Fred’s sprawled on the floor, aching all over, shouting, “Who are you? I’ll sue you!”  

The bodyguard just glares, ignoring him.  

Scarlett huffs, pulling Hunter along. “Come on, we’re going inside!”  

“Hey, Scarlett!” Fred scrambles up, stealing a wary glance at the hulking guy before pitching again. “My dad’s producing Johnny English! I can get you an audition—wanna try?”  

Hunter laughs like it’s the funniest thing ever. “Audition? Keep it! My sister doesn’t need auditions anymore!”  

…  

Back inside with the door shut, the three siblings hug, jumping with joy like a team celebrating a championship win.  

“Ingrid, that outfit’s gotta be worth at least 30 grand, right? And that bag—I know it’s Hermès!” Vanessa gushes, eyeing Scarlett’s look, her hands trembling as she touches the trench coat.  

Scarlett grins, pulling an Amex Black Card from her bag and handing it over. “Borrow it—spend what you want!”  

Vanessa’s jaw drops. “This… a Black Card? I can just… spend?”  

Back then, Amex Black Cards weren’t as common as later years—they were a straight-up status symbol.  

Hunter’s eyes bug out. “Spend whatever? Sis, Mr. Walker’s way too generous!”  

Scarlett smirks, smug. “That’s ‘cause your sister’s gorgeous, and he’s into me! Sis, you can use the card for a week—buy whatever, but… try not to go over a million bucks. I’d have a hard time explaining that.”  

“A million dollars?!”  

Vanessa gasps, stunned. She’s never even seen ten grand in her life—now she’s got a shot at a million-dollar spree. She’s practically dizzy with excitement.  

“We’re rich! We’re totally set now!”  

Hunter’s eyes glaze over, like he’s lost in a dream, mumbling to himself.  

Vanessa sighs. “Hunter, you gotta buckle down and get into a good college. You need to get it—this is all because of what your sister’s… earned.”  

Scarlett waves it off grandly, pulling her siblings to the living room couch. “It’s not that dramatic. Dunn totally spoils me. Oh, and he said I’m his girlfriend now!”  

“What?!”  

That bombshell hits harder than the million bucks.  

Hunter’s floored. “He dumped Natalie Portman?”  

Vanessa’s practically tearing up with glee. “Ingrid, you took out Natalie?!”  

“Well… not exactly.” Scarlett hesitates, then explains slowly. “Dunn… he’s kinda into that polygamy vibe. He says Natalie’s girlfriend number one, and I’m number two.”  

Vanessa and Hunter exchange a look, their faces twisting weirdly.  

Scarlett continues, “Dunn went on this whole rant—I didn’t catch all of it. Apparently, it’s a thing with rich guys. Like, after Summer Redstone’s divorce, she’s living with two women—an Argentine model and a CBS anchor, both forty years younger. Bill Gates has two wives, Larry Ellison’s got college girls—it’s pretty common.”  

Vanessa blinks rapidly. “The papers say… Mr. Walker’s tied to a ton of actresses. Did you ask? Is it true?”  

Scarlett’s smile falters.  

She didn’t ask, but at Dunn’s Mid-Level estate, she saw plenty of actresses living there with him—Anne Hathaway, who she even knows.  

“He said… they’re just temporary flings. But I’m a real girlfriend—number two, sure, but it’s serious, not like with them.”  

Vanessa scoffs, gritting her teeth. “Whatever, Ingrid, you gotta fight! Push Natalie Portman out and become girlfriend number one—no, his only girlfriend!”  

Hunter rolls his eyes. “Big sis, don’t give her dumb ideas. You know Natalie Portman? She’s a Harvard genius—smarter than 99% of Americans! Telling Scarlett to compete with her is like handing her a gun and saying, ‘Go shoot Natalie!’”  

Vanessa snaps, “You little punk! I’ve got the Black Card—you’re getting nothing!”  

“Huh?!”  

Hunter’s face falls, and he looks like he’s about to cry.  

Scarlett stifles a laugh, pulling a key from her bag and dangling it on her pinky in front of Hunter.  

His eyes light up, spotting the iconic bull logo. “Lamborghini! Sis, that’s a Lamborghini key!”  

Scarlett smirks, tossing it to him. “Get outta here—go check out your new car downstairs!”  

“Whoa!”  

Hunter’s like a kid on Christmas, bolting out in his pajamas and slippers.  

“That idiot—it’s winter!” Vanessa mutters.