359-361

Chapter 359: Everything’s Under Control 

Michael Eisner was furious! 

Pearl Harbor had tanked at the box office, and to make matters worse, the “fraud scandal” had erupted, dragging Disney’s reputation through the mud. 

Since the turn of the century, Disney’s stock price and brand value had been on a steady decline. 

A big part of that? Their movies just weren’t cutting it anymore. 

Last year, Disney could at least come up with excuses. But this year’s Pearl Harbor? There was no defending it. 

A scandal on top of everything else—what was there left to say? 

Sure, Disney had been scrambling with PR moves lately, but the sliding stock price was still gnawing at every shareholder’s nerves. 

Michael Eisner had been running Disney for nearly 20 years, and this time, the pressure felt like nothing he’d ever faced before. 

Movies might not bring in the biggest chunk of revenue, but they were the heart of Disney’s business. 

If the film division stumbled, it’d ripple through the whole kingdom, shaking up the entire company. 

At the board meeting, Roy Disney—the number two guy Michael had kept under his thumb for over a decade—finally snapped. He straight-up grilled Eisner: Can you fix this movie mess or not? 

Eisner leaned on his decades of clout to calm the board down quick, but the writing was on the wall. 

The Disney family had spoken. They weren’t happy with him. 

The family didn’t own much stock anymore—just Roy Disney holding a small slice—but their influence? Undeniable. 

Plenty of Disney old-timers still felt loyal to the family name. 

If Roy raised the flag, things could get ugly fast! 

“Jerry Bruckheimer’s a total hack!” 

Michael Eisner sat in his office, grabbed a book off his desk, and chucked it hard. 

The place was a mess! 

To make Pearl Harbor a hit, he’d gotten involved at every stage—production, promotion, the works. A guy at his level shouldn’t have had to micromanage likeді that. 

He’d personally visited the set and post-production team three times, just to keep an eye on things and ensure success. 

After Dunn Films humiliated Disney last year, this summer was their shot at redemption! 

Jerry Bruckheimer had sworn up and down that Pearl Harbor would be a groundbreaking classic—on par with Titanic, a film for the history books! 

Two weeks after release, North America box office hadn’t even hit $100 million. 

Market buzz? Forget matching Titanic. But making history? Oh, it did that alright. 

The “fraud scandal”… Pearl Harbor’s stink was now a legendary stain in movie history. 

Disney was just collateral damage! 

No wonder Eisner was losing it—humiliation like this was next-level. 

Still, he’d been in the game for decades. He’d even dodged death in the ‘90s. Bigger setbacks than this hadn’t broken him. He was disappointed, sure, but not unhinged. 

“Some half-dead geezer who won’t just enjoy retirement—he thinks he can grab power? Let’s see if he’s got what it takes!” 

Eisner snorted, brushing off Roy Disney with disdain. 

Back in the ‘80s, Roy was president, and his brother-in-law Ray Miller was CEO. The two of them spent all their time fighting over control, running the company into the ground. 

That was Disney’s darkest hour—cash flow dried up, nearly bankrupt. 

If Roy hadn’t caved first and the board hadn’t swooped in to hire a pro like Eisner, Disney might’ve ended up worse off than MGM. 

From day one at Disney, Eisner had run things his way, barely giving Roy a second thought. 

His focus? One thing: Disney’s stock price! 

With Pearl Harbor getting crushed by Never Sinking at the box office, plus the scandal, Disney’s stock had dropped 7%. Eisner’s top priority was winning back the confidence of shareholders and Wall Street. 

“Disney… we need a new cash cow!” 

Eisner leaned back in his chair. He didn’t have time to mess with Dunn right now—stabilizing the stock was job one. Eyes half-closed, he mulled it over for a while, then sighed. A determined look crossed his face. 

He sat up straight, grabbed the office phone, and dialed a familiar number. 

“Who’s this?” 

“Rupert! Haha, it’s me—Mike! Michael Eisner!” 

Eisner’s voice was warm and cheerful, a total 180 from the fury on his face. 

“Oh, it’s you!” Rupert Murdoch chuckled lightly. “If this is about the Fox Family Channel again, I’m sorry, but anything under $5 billion—I can’t justify that to my shareholders.” 

“No, you can justify it.” 

“Oh?” 

Eisner said calmly, “I’m good with the $5.3 billion deal!” 

Murdoch went quiet for a moment before replying, “$3 billion in cash, plus a billion in debt?” 

“Exactly!” 

“Heh, word is you’ve hit some rough patches lately?” 

Eisner’s brow twitched, his tone shifting. “Rupert, you’re not trying to take advantage of me, are you?” 

“No way!” Murdoch laughed heartily. “Business is business—reputation first. The deal we agreed on? It’s solid!” 

… 

Roy Disney had been ghosting Dunn for months. Now, with the stock tanking, Pearl Harbor bombing, and the scandal blowing up, the old man couldn’t sit still anymore. He finally asked to meet. 

But seriously… 

Meet when he felt like it, ignore Dunn when he didn’t? 

Talk about full of himself! 

Hollywood wasn’t the same place it was when Roy was in charge. 

Sure, as a Disney shareholder, Roy didn’t want the stock to keep sliding. But what did that have to do with Dunn? 

Dunn shot back a reply: “Let’s talk after Atlantis: The Lost Empire comes out!” 

He respected his elders, but Roy Disney’s high-and-mighty attitude? That rubbed him the wrong way. 

Even media titans like Redstone and Murdoch shook Dunn’s hand with enthusiasm. Who did Roy Disney think he was, treating Dunn like some errand boy? 

Dunn headed straight to New York! 

It was June now, and that big chess game he’d been playing? Halfway done. 

Wall Street papers had already sniffed it out: over the past six months, Dunn Capital had been aggressively shorting stocks on NASDAQ and the NYSE. 

Dunn, dubbed the “Stock God” and “Little Stock God,” was at it again, and the industry was buzzing! 

Last time he shorted, it landed him on the Forbes rich list. 

This time? 

The results were jaw-dropping. 

He’d lost! 

And not just a little—he’d lost big. 

Rough estimates said that in March and April alone, Dunn Capital shorted 207 stocks, got margin-called, and was forced to close out. Losses? Over $400 million! 

And that was just the tip of the iceberg! 

An anonymous Businessweek report claimed Dunn Capital had shorted 5 stocks in January, 56 on NASDAQ, and 527 on the NYSE. 

So far, 207 had been forcibly closed. What about the other 276? 

Sure, a few might’ve dipped— the dot-com crash wasn’t fully over yet. 

But the NYSE? That was a different story! 

With Bush’s tax cuts kicking in, companies were seeing bigger profits, and NYSE stocks were climbing fast. 

In other words, that $400 million loss might just be the start. Dunn Capital could be staring down an even bigger hit! 

Dunn made the trip to Manhattan himself to sit down with Scott Swift, the guy running his financial ops. 

“The stuff they’re saying out there—it’s not good for us!” 

Scott Swift’s face looked grim. 

Losses this huge at any other company? The head of that division would be toast. 

Even if this was all Dunn’s call, it still stung. 

For years, Scott had been Dunn Capital’s GM, managing billions and living large in Manhattan. He was a Wall Street hotshot. 

Plenty of young, gorgeous women had thrown themselves at him—some of his best memories. 

But the last couple of months? A total nosedive. 

Industry peers were smirking at him now, whispering that he was torching Dunn’s fortune. 

Scott couldn’t explain it. He just had to eat it and sulk. 

Dunn, though, grinned like nothing was wrong, totally unbothered by the bad press. “Scott, you look deflated,” he teased. 

Scott shook his head bitterly. “Dunn, what are you even doing? Money… you don’t lose it like this.” 

Dunn laughed. “You’ve gotta lose to win! Especially in the markets—nobody makes money every time.” 

Scott didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

How could Dunn be joking at a time like this? Guy’s got guts! 

Dunn glanced at the office door. Scott got up, locked it, then turned on the radio, cranking the volume. He flipped on a signal jammer too. 

Dunn slid over next to Scott. “Relax. Everything’s under control!” 

“Under control?” 

Scott’s eyes went wide. 

Dunn smiled but held back a little, playing coy. “The tax cuts? That’s just a band-aid. What really drives the economy is the dollar’s exchange rate. It’s sky-high right now. If the Fed doesn’t raise rates and let it drop, a crisis is coming—it’s only a matter of time.” 

Sure, it was hindsight. During the NASDAQ bubble burst, every economist had spouted that line a million times. 

But Scott caught the deeper meaning. “So… you think the U.S. stock market’s about to take a big dive?” 

Chapter 360: Victoria’s Secret Newbie  

“Of course, I’m not sure exactly when it’ll happen, but I’ve got a gut feeling—this current boom? It’s just the last gasp before the crash.”  

Dunn’s words sent a chill down Scott Swift’s spine. “A crash? Isn’t that a bit dramatic?”  

Dunn chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Let’s just say a bigger stock market mess is coming! We made a killing during the last bubble crisis, and we’re not missing out this time either. Scott, I’m the boss—trust me on this!”  

Some things Dunn knew for sure, but explaining them clearly to a pro like Scott Swift? Way too tricky. So he half-bluffed, half-bossed his way through it.  

“But the future’s so unpredictable…”  

“It’s always a gamble!”  

Dunn was starting to get annoyed.  

Scott Swift frowned. “Sure, but… the first half of this year, we already bet wrong. As it stands, we’re down at least a billion! Dunn Capital’s wealth has shrunk by 27%. If the second half goes the same way, half our fortune could just vanish.”  

Dunn shrugged it off. “Win big, lose small—that’s how it goes. All this money at Dunn Capital? We won it in the first place. Look, it’s settled, no more debating!”  

Scott Swift sighed. He’d seen this coming.  

Dunn switched gears. “Right now, the buzz out there… it’s too quiet. You’ve got tons of contacts—spread the word.”  

“Spread the word?” Scott Swift blinked, caught off guard. “About what?”  

“About me playing the stock market and losing big, obviously!”  

“No way, that’ll tank your reputation…”  

Dunn smirked, totally unbothered. “Reputation? Who cares? Cold, hard cash is what matters!”  

There were things he didn’t spell out.  

The louder the noise, the better it was for him.  

There’s no such thing as a stock market god who only wins— not even Buffett pulls that off.  

This short-selling flop could strip away Dunn’s “invincible” aura, lowering the guard of anyone watching him too closely. That’d make his next big win way easier.  

If he went all-in shorting Nasdaq and the NYSE, tossing around billions, it’d definitely catch the feds’ and regulators’ attention.  

Too much heat. Better to play it safe.  

Take a small hit now, then cash in quietly later.  

A mix of wins and losses—that looks normal.  

“June’s when we pull the plug, no matter how much we’re down. The strategy stays put! Then in July, we go big on another short!”  

Dunn wasn’t great at the nitty-gritty execution—he wasn’t the expert.  

But with his foresight, his big-picture strategy? Dead-on.  

…  

“Oh! You’re here!”  

Angela Lindvall’s blue eyes sparkled like gems as she looked at Dunn in the doorway, clearly thrilled.  

Dunn grinned. “Not welcome?”  

“How could you not be? You’re the man of the house.” Angela gave him a light hug and slipped her arm through his. “This is your first time here, you know!”  

They were in a swanky high-rise duplex in Manhattan’s Battery Park City—over 1,000 square meters of pure luxury, costing more than $35 million.  

Angela helped Dunn shrug off his jacket, testing the waters. “So… staying the night?”  

“Yeah.”  

“Should I call a few girlfriends over then?”  

Dunn paused, then waved it off. “Next time. Six hours on a plane—I’m beat.”  

Angela nodded sweetly. “I’ll have the maid get things ready then. How about a hot bath soon? There’s a massage tub too.”  

Dunn gave a small nod. “Sounds good.”  

He wandered out to the balcony, where a cushy sunbathing chair waited. He didn’t hesitate—just flopped right down. It was soft, with a faint sweet scent. Felt nice.  

A minute later, Angela sashayed over with two glasses of fruit wine, her hips swaying as she sat beside him.  

“No wonder you love apartments,” Dunn said. “The whole of Manhattan’s right there in front of you.”  

He beckoned her over, and Angela flashed a sugary smile, snuggling up next to him.  

“I’ve been seeing tons of stuff about you in the papers,” she said, biting her lip hesitantly.  

Dunn squinted lazily, one arm around her. His hand had already slipped under her nightgown, brushing her waist, but his face stayed calm. “What about? Movies… or finance?”  

“Both.”  

“Oh?”  

Dunn thought for a second, then caught on and laughed. “You’re worried I’ve lost too much in the stock market and might back out?”  

Angela’s cheeks flushed pink, her blue eyes shimmering.  

Dunn brushed it off casually. “Relax! The little bit I’ve lost in stocks? Doesn’t even faze me. What I promised you, you’ll get—as long as you play by my rules.”  

“I know, I’ve been good!” Angela blurted out, a little nervous.  

She had to be.  

Those two Brazilian supermodels Dunn had set up in an East Manhattan townhouse—Alessandra Ambrosio and Adriana Lima—got kicked out just a month ago.  

Why? They didn’t follow the rules. Out partying with guys at a bar in the middle of the night.  

Angela had known about it all along.  

They were Brazilian girls who’d never lived in a global hotspot like New York before. Back then, they’d been hustling for their careers and survival. But with Dunn, life got easy—plenty of time for fun and games.  

Still, Angela knew they were just messing around. Nothing too wild—just dancing with some hot guys, with Dunn’s bodyguards right there. No way they could’ve gotten up to much.  

Even so, Dunn cut them loose without a second thought!  

After that, Angela—who was already big on keeping her word—tightened up her own behavior even more.  

Invites from guys—dates, dinners, whatever—she turned them down whenever she could.  

She wasn’t about to risk ticking Dunn off.  

Rules were rules!  

She had to stick to them!  

Angela adored this luxe apartment Dunn had bought her—it was like paradise. No way she’d mess up and lose it over something dumb.  

Dunn’s lips quirked up, and he nodded, pleased. “I trust you. I don’t get to New York much, but I always know how you’re doing.”  

Angela giggled, feeling his hand roam under her nightgown. It tickled, and she pressed herself against his chest, her eyes turning flirty.  

Dunn smirked, pulling her up. “Come on, let’s hit the bedroom.”  

Angela practically bounced with excitement.  

…  

“How’d I do?”  

“Not bad!”  

“Phew!” Angela patted her chest. “Ever since we got together, I haven’t gone out with a guy in months.”  

Dunn took the water glass she handed him, sitting on the bed’s edge. He took a few sips and grinned. “Good. A little thirst makes you more irresistible.”  

Angela shot him a playful glare. “Jerk!”  

After resting a bit, Dunn wrapped an arm around her and headed to the bathroom. Out of nowhere, he asked, “By the way, Victoria’s Secret… any new faces lately?”  

Angela smirked. “Missing those Brazilian girls already?”  

Dunn gave her a look. “Answer the question!”  

She tilted her head, thinking. “There’s one. Super pretty, great runway walk, and young!”  

“Oh? Who?”  

“Karolina Kurkova. We call her KK. She’s a Czech model, only 17.”  

Dunn stopped in his tracks.  

Karolina Kurkova—the KK!  

A huge name in modeling, just as big as this “sly fox” Angela Lindvall.  

Seeing Dunn’s interest, Angela grinned. “We get along okay. Want me to call her over tonight? She’d… definitely be up for it.”  

Dunn hesitated. “Seventeen’s kinda…”  

“No big deal! This is New York, not LA!” Angela said, brushing it off.  

Dunn mulled it over. “She doesn’t have a ‘boss,’ right?”  

“Boss” meaning a sugar daddy pulling the strings.  

Angela shrugged. “I don’t think so. She’s new, not famous yet. Plus, she’s got high standards—most guys wouldn’t cut it for her.”  

Dunn raised an eyebrow. “But I would?”  

Angela laughed, covering her mouth. “Oh, you totally would! Young, hot, generous, and built—you’re basically every woman’s dream guy.”  

“Hmm. Call her over then. No ‘boss’ is perfect. She’s mine.”  

“Bold move!”  

Angela tugged him into the bathroom. The fancy round tub was already filled. She glanced back with a shy smile. “How about we wait for her and all hop in together?”  

“Doubting my stamina?”  

“Pfft! No way—I believe you!” 

Chapter 361: The Boss 

The modeling world… it’s kind of an awkward scene. 

Is it part of the fashion crowd? 

Not really. Globally, maybe a few dozen top models can confidently say they’re in the fashion circle. 

Most of the time, the modeling world is just the outer edge of entertainment. 

And the gig’s got a catch: a youthful, fit body is non-negotiable. Even the best models are stuck eating the “youth meal”—it’s a short shelf life. 

That’s a huge difference from Hollywood! 

In Hollywood, being young and gorgeous matters for actresses, sure, but that’s just the entry ticket. To really climb the ladder, it’s not about looks or a hot bod—it’s connections, popularity, and acting chops. 

Take today’s top Hollywood actresses: Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts, Nicole Kidman… they didn’t hit the A-list until after 30. 

For models, though? Thirty’s a wall. 

So, girls in the modeling game know the deal: they’re cashing in on their youth! 

If they don’t bank some serious cash while they’re young and stunning, those measly earnings later won’t even cover their lavish lifestyles. 

Finding a “boss” to bankroll them? Pretty much a no-brainer. 

Gisele Bündchen, Victoria’s Secret’s hottest star right now, is all over Leonardo DiCaprio, playing the grand love story card. Looks impressive, right? 

But come on—who doesn’t know Leo’s a total player? 

A big chunk of it is that Leonardo DiCaprio brings Gisele more fame, more buzz, and a cushier life. 

Let’s be real: how’s Leo and Gisele’s thing any different from Dunn and Angela Lindvall? 

It’s just “love” as a fancy cover. 

Dunn loves dating models—not just because they’re tall, fair-skinned, and gorgeous, but because they know their place. Compared to Hollywood actresses, they’re less full of themselves and way more eager to please. 

Date a Hollywood starlet, and you’re dodging little tantrums and attitude. But with Angela Lindvall? Dunn only ever gets sweet, submissive vibes—she’s all about keeping him happy. 

And yeah, she’s plenty passionate, fiery, and open-minded too! 

Karolína Kurková showed up around dinner time. Dunn hadn’t even said much when Angela jumped in, “You’ve always wondered how I afford such a nice place, right? Mr. Walker’s my boss.” 

Karolína Kurková was drop-dead gorgeous—flowing blonde hair, pale skin, delicate features, and a sweet smile. She was only 17, but her figure was already smoking hot—tall, curvy, holding her own next to Angela Lindvall. 

Her voice was sugary too. “Hi, Mr. Walker.” 

Dunn smiled and nodded. “You’re beautiful.” 

“Thanks.” 

Angela Lindvall grinned. “Dumb-dumb KK, Mr. Walker’s saying he’s got his eye on you!” 

“Huh?” 

Karolína froze, catching Angela winking like crazy across the table. It clicked—she got the hint. “I…” 

Her face turned beet red, totally flustered. 

She was a newbie, after all. Killer looks, sure, but zero experience. 

Dunn figured there was no point sticking around—his vibe was too intense, and he didn’t want to freak the poor girl out. This was a mutual thing; no one should feel pushed. He stood up. “You guys take your time eating. I’ll be in the study.” 

Once Dunn left, Angela huffed, exasperated. “You idiot, how do you let a chance like this slip?” 

Karolína’s face was practically dripping with embarrassment. “I… I know…” 

“What don’t you know? Mr. Walker told me he likes you. So, what’s your deal?” 

“He likes me?” 

Karolína blinked, looking clueless. 

Angela didn’t even know where to start. She rolled her eyes hard. “Not that kind of like! Ugh, you’re such a dope. He wants to be your boss—yes or no?” 

Karolína stared at her blankly. “But… isn’t he your boss?” 

Angela snapped, “So what? He’s my boss—does that mean he can’t be yours too? He’s Dunn Walker!” 

“Well…” 

“You don’t read the papers? All those Hollywood actresses are clawing to get near him. Now you’ve got this golden ticket—don’t tell me you’re gonna pass!” 

“I… I didn’t say no.” Karolína’s eyes welled up, her lips pouting. “I’m just… thinking it over.” 

Angela pressed, “What’s there to think about? He’s Dunn Walker! Look at what he’s got—could you find a better boss anywhere in the world?” 

Karolína bit her lip. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” 

Angela gave her a long look. “Don’t forget, you’re a model! This job’s all about youth—making money while you’re young and hot. Don’t toss away your prime years and a sweet future for some cheap pride.” 

Karolína mumbled, “I know. Since I got to New York, tons of vets and designers have said the same thing.” 

Angela smirked. “See? Opportunity’s knocking—don’t be dumb enough to miss it.” 

Karolína shyly glanced at her. “But… he’s your boss. We can’t just…” 

Angela groaned. “Why are we back to this? Yeah, he’s my boss—so what? He’s loaded! He could handle both of us and ten more girls. What’s the problem?” 

“No… that’s not what I meant. I just feel…” 

Karolína stammered, struggling to spit it out. 

“Shy?” Angela guessed. 

Karolína pressed her lips together and gave a tiny nod. 

Angela couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously? You know Ambrosio and Lima? Back in the day, the three of us even… eh, whatever, it’s no big deal. You’ll get used to it.” 

Karolína nibbled her lip, head down, and let out a soft “Oh.” 

… 

Ten minutes later, Angela, all smiles, dragged Karolína by the hand to the study door. 

Dunn was lounging in a recliner, eyes closed, soaking in the tunes from an old-school vinyl record player spinning nearby. 

“Dunn, we’re here!” Angela chirped, beaming like a kid waiting for a gold star. 

Dunn grinned and looked at Karolína. “What about you?” 

She just stood there, dazed, until Angela yanked her arm. “He’s talking to you!” 

Karolína mustered her courage and met Dunn’s gaze. “Sir, I… I’ve thought it over. I… I want to go with you…” 

Dunn teased, “Go with me where?” 

Her face turned apple-red. “I… I want to be your friend… uh, partner.” 

Angela couldn’t hold it in—she burst out laughing. 

Karolína’s blush deepened. 

Dunn chuckled. “Alright, kidding. Come here—I’ll give you a hug.” 

Karolína hesitated. 

Angela shoved her again. “Go already!” 

Dunn was sprawled on the recliner—not exactly hug-friendly—so Karolína gingerly leaned in, resting against him. 

Dunn, with her warmth in his arms, was pretty pleased. “You know my rules?” 

Karolína buried her face in his shoulder like an ostrich, ignoring Angela behind her. “Yeah, Angi just told me.” 

“Good enough.” Dunn savored her youthful energy, marveling at how a 17-year-old could have such a killer, tall figure. “You’ll stay here from now on. In, say, five years, I’ll buy you an apartment like this one—my gift.” 

“For me? Really?” 

Karolína perked up instantly, lifting her head, eyes sparkling like gems. 

Dunn raised a brow. “You don’t trust me?” 

“I do! I do! Wow!” Karolína squealed, over the moon. 

A swanky place like this? Anyone would kill for it! 

Even if she made it as a top model, pulling in $10 million a year, after taxes and expenses, saving up for a luxe apartment like this would take a decade. 

And modeling’s a young woman’s game—you can’t just dump all your earnings into a fancy pad, right? 

But now, with Dunn as her big-shot boss, five years was all it’d take to score this for free. 

What a deal! 

No wonder Angela Lindvall, already a famous supermodel, bent over backwards to keep Dunn happy. 

Sure, his rules were strict, but the perks? Insane! 

Dunn’s lips curved up as he nodded at Angela. “Go close the curtains.” 

Angela blinked. “Here?” 

“Problem?” 

“Nope! Whatever you say.” Angela flashed a flirty smile, then pinched Karolína’s waist with a mischievous grin.