307-309

Chapter 307: Endless Possibilities  

Listening to Dunn, Michael Ovitz widened his eyes in shock. “No voting rights? How’s that even possible?”  

Shares mean votes—that’s just common sense.  

Dunn shrugged casually. “It’s totally normal. In Silicon Valley, this setup’s been standard for ages.”  

Michael Ovitz shook his head repeatedly. “Silicon Valley’s one thing, but Hollywood’s a different beast! Silicon Valley’s all about new industries and tech companies. The decision-makers there need a deep understanding of tech trends—something capitalists aren’t great at, so they can’t meddle even if they want to. But Hollywood? Let’s be real—investing in movies doesn’t have any technical barriers.”  

He wasn’t wrong. Hollywood’s film companies are a far cry from Silicon Valley.  

Hollywood’s nearly a century old—conservative, traditional, rigid, and stuck in its ways. Its business model is ancient.  

Silicon Valley, on the other hand, is the poster child for new industries. It’s buzzing with energy. They even hand out equity to startup teams and set up stock options to share profits with employees, all to boost creativity and motivation.  

That’s unthinkable in Hollywood!  

In Hollywood’s movie companies, even the chairman or CEO is just a salaried worker unless they hold shares. At best, they get a cut of the profits per their contract, but stock rewards? Forget it.  

Take Dunn Films, for example. Dunn’s the sole shareholder!  

Everyone else, including Bill Mechanic and the other execs, are just employees living off salaries and bonuses.  

That’s why Silicon Valley companies have come up with ways to protect founders and keep them in full control—think Steve Jobs getting booted from Apple. To avoid that kind of drama, they sign contracts with investors upfront, using multi-tier voting rights to lock in the founding team’s dominance.  

But that’s not Hollywood’s style.  

Dunn didn’t care, though. He snorted, “I don’t give a damn about Silicon Valley or Hollywood. My turf, my rules!”  

Michael Ovitz’s mouth twitched slightly.  

He’d worked with Michael Eisner before, but honestly, when it came to sheer guts in big decisions, Dunn blew Eisner out of the water—bold and unshakable!  

Taking on Wall Street head-on, no politeness required!  

The kicker? This could mean walking away from a $500 million investment.  

“Michael, there’s no room for compromise or negotiation here. Legendary Pictures—we’ve got to have absolute control!” Dunn’s face was dead serious as he continued calmly, “Wall Street banks, private equity funds, whatever—if they’re cool with our terms, they can invest, and we’ll all make money together. If not, they can get lost!”  

“Dunn, what if they just team up with other studios instead?” Michael Ovitz cautioned.  

Dunn burst out laughing. “Partner with Hollywood studios? Without us as the middleman to vouch for them, Wall Street stepping into Hollywood alone is a death wish! No worries—we’ve got time.”  

Michael Ovitz mulled it over for a moment before nodding slowly. “Alright, I’m on board with your plan.”  

“Thanks for backing me up.” Dunn let out a relieved breath.  

“But…” Michael Ovitz paused, his expression cooling, “we’ve got to be ready for Wall Street’s pushback.”  

Dunn nodded. “I know. Wherever there’s profit, capital’s never far behind. Movie investments are hot right now, and slate financing’s all the rage. Even with our tough terms, I bet they won’t pass up a chance to invest in Legendary Pictures.”  

Michael Ovitz agreed. “Legendary’s the only company doing slate financing right now. It’s Wall Street’s only shot—they can’t afford to miss it. But the investment might shrink big time, or they’ll lean harder into debt financing.”  

Dunn shrugged. “Debt or equity, doesn’t matter to us! Sure, debt’s riskier, but I’m confident enough in the slate financing model. We’ll make even more!”  

“Hmm.” Michael Ovitz went quiet for a long stretch. “I’m just worried Wall Street might play both sides.”  

Hollywood’s notorious for chewing up outsiders. Over the years, it’s buried a ton of German investors, and Wall Street’s taken notice.  

Right now, they wouldn’t dare ditch Legendary Pictures as their go-between and dive into Hollywood solo for slate deals.  

They’d get eaten alive!  

But slate financing is too juicy to ignore—Wall Street won’t let that cash cow slip away.  

If Legendary Pictures digs in its heels and won’t budge, Wall Street’s only way to maximize profits would be to bypass us and carve out their own space in Hollywood.  

That’d take time, though. Without two or three years of market research and networking, Wall Street setting up its own slate financing outfit in Hollywood? Not a chance.  

For now, Legendary Pictures is their best bet.  

A confident smirk spread across Dunn’s face. “Relax, they won’t get far!”  

“Oh?” Michael Ovitz gave him a half-smile, half-skeptical look. “Wall Street’s not Disney. If those capitalists team up, they could drown Hollywood in money.”  

Dunn stayed cool. “The richer they are, the more they hate losing! Let Wall Street stir things up. Maybe in two or three years, they’ll pull off a new slate financing company. But by then—heh!”  

A sly, knowing grin crept onto his face.  

By that point, Dunn’s plans for the film industry would be locked in. If Wall Street got greedy and barged into Hollywood, he wouldn’t mind rallying his resources to teach them a lesson!  

Michael Ovitz could tell Dunn didn’t want to dwell on it. He chuckled and switched gears. “By the way, congrats! This year’s Golden Globes could be a big win for you!”  

The Golden Globe gala was set for January 21st.  

Dunn Films’ movies were lighting up the nominations.  

Girl, Interrupted and Traffic snagged nods for Best Motion Picture – Drama.  

Sam Mendes and Steven Soderbergh got Best Director nods for those films.  

Nicole Kidman earned a Best Actress – Drama nod for Girl, Interrupted.  

Benicio del Toro was up for Best Supporting Actor for Traffic.  

Natalie Portman scored a Best Supporting Actress nod for Girl, Interrupted.  

Dunn Walker and Stephen Gaghan nabbed Best Screenplay nods for Girl, Interrupted and Traffic, respectively.  

And Hans Zimmer got a Best Original Score nod for Spider-Man.  

Dunn kicked back, crossing his legs with a grin. “Whether we sweep or not, doesn’t matter. As long as Nicole and Nat win, they’ll be happy—that’s enough for me.”  

Michael Ovitz blinked, then laughed and shook his head. “Young guys and their energy! How about I hook you up with a list?”  

“What list?”  

“A detailed rundown of all the actresses at my agency. If you’re interested, just set up a meeting—I’m sure they wouldn’t say no.”  

Dunn cracked up, half-joking. “Your agency’s too small-time—how many real stars could you have? I’d rather hunt them down myself!”  

Michael Ovitz glared, annoyed, then waved it off. “Forget it, doesn’t matter. I’ve already decided—I’m stepping away from the agency.”  

“What?!”  

Dunn gasped. “Michael, you’re kidding, right? The agency’s your life’s work!”  

Michael Ovitz sighed and shook his head. “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t. But it clashes with Legendary Pictures’ business. I checked with my lawyers—it could brush up against monopoly laws. Better to get out now and avoid headaches later.”  

Legendary Pictures handles film production, while the agency manages talent contracts. If Michael Ovitz ran both, it could look like insider dealing, pissing off competitors and even shareholders—especially Legendary’s private equity investors.  

Dunn nodded. “Fair enough. Then let’s just focus on building Legendary Pictures. Trust me—” 

Chapter 308: We’re Not the Same! 

Stepping into 2001, even though it was just January, Dunn could already sense the faint whiff of war in the air. 

According to a special report in the daily news, the existence of Al-Qaeda posed a massive, unstable threat to the American public—especially to high-profile figures. 

Dunn was terrified of dying. He’d always been extra cautious when going out, and he even added two more bodyguards to Natalie’s detail. She grumbled about it, feeling like she was under surveillance, but there was no helping it—the atmosphere was tense these days. 

Take Russell Crowe, for example. His starring role in Proof of Life hit theaters and immediately pissed off the real-life crime syndicate it was based on. They were threatening to kidnap him. 

The FBI took it seriously, assigning four agents to protect him around the clock. 

This wasn’t just paranoia. 

Celebrity kidnappings, robberies, even murders weren’t rare. Indian actress Meenakshi Thapar had been brutally beheaded and dismembered. Even across the strait, where security was tight, there’d been a case like Saving Mr. Wu. 

Russell Crowe’s gripping performance in Gladiator had earned him a Golden Globe nod for Best Actor in a Drama. At the awards gala, Dunn spotted him from a distance. 

The Australian actor was clearly rattled by the kidnapping threats—his face was drawn, his nerves frayed. 

Dunn walked over, clapped him on the shoulder, and kept his voice low. “Hey, how you holding up? Everything okay?” 

Seeing it was Dunn—someone he trusted—Russell didn’t bother hiding it. “The FBI says they’ve got agents secretly watching me, but half the time, I don’t even notice them!” 

Dunn nodded. “Probably undercover. Still, you should get some solid bodyguards of your own. Relying on yourself beats relying on others. Need any help?” 

“Thanks, but no need. The Aussie community’s already sorted it out for me,” Russell said with a sigh. 

Dunn smiled. “Good to hear.” 

“This is the first I’ve heard of a terrorist group,” Russell muttered, worry creeping across his face. “I never imagined someone would want to kidnap me.” 

Dunn didn’t want to stress him out more. “Your performance in Gladiator was unreal. I’ve got my money on you for Best Actor this time!” 

Russell’s expression softened, and he gave a modest smile. “Honestly, I was just channeling Mel. His work in Braveheart—that’s my benchmark.” 

“But you outdid him, didn’t you?” 

Russell laughed. “Dunn, you’d better say that to Mel Gibson’s face!” 

Dunn chuckled. “That big guy? I’d be scared he’d deck me! Seriously, though, he’d make a hell of a bodyguard for you.” 

“That’s ridiculous!” Russell cracked up, shaking his head. “He’s no Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan. He’s all flash, no substance.” 

The Others had earned Nicole Kidman and Natalie Portman stellar reputations in the industry. 

Natalie didn’t walk the red carpet with Dunn. Instead, she linked arms with Nicole, the two of them stepping out together. 

After they passed the interview zone, Natalie couldn’t hold back her curiosity. She leaned in and whispered, “Nicole, did you really move out?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I did!”  

Nicole blinked, caught off guard. 

Natalie frowned slightly, biting her lip before asking quietly, “So… did he kick you out?” 

“Of course not! You know Dunn. We’re friends—he’d never be that harsh. I chose to leave,” Nicole said, flashing a polished smile. She waved graciously to friends in the distance while keeping her voice low with Natalie. 

Natalie let out a soft sigh. “That’s a shame. If it were up to me, I’d rather he dated you than all those random girls.” 

“What? Why?” Nicole’s eyes widened, her casual tone vanishing as she turned to look at her. 

“Because you’ve got principles,” Natalie said matter-of-factly. 

“Principles?” Nicole’s smile turned wry. “As a foreign actress surviving in Hollywood, what principles do I have? Otherwise, would I have had to trade my body and sleep with your boyfriend for three years?” 

Natalie shook her head. “That’s not your fault—it’s the system. Compared to others, you’re already way better.” 

Nicole gave a bittersweet smile and sighed. “Maybe. Thanks, Nat, for understanding how tough it’s been.” 

“I’m just being honest!” Natalie turned to face her, dead serious. “I’ve met most of Dunn’s girlfriends. They’re mostly trash—except you. You hold the line.” 

“Hm?” Nicole tilted her head, puzzled. “What line?” 

“You…”  

Natalie’s cheeks flushed. She glanced around before leaning in and whispering quickly, “You never gave in to Dunn’s crazy demands. I know all about it!” 

“Crazy demands?” 

“Yeah! He even brought it up with me. That jerk’s always fantasizing about a threesome!” 

“Cough, cough…”  

Nicole choked, nearly fainting. Her face turned beet red, all the way to her ears. 

How embarrassing! 

It was true, like Natalie said—she’d always held that line. She’d been fine with Dunn, but never with another woman involved. 

Except that last time… To push Rose Byrne into Dunn’s arms, she’d caved and gone along with his wild request. 

Every time she thought back to that night—the three of them tangled up together—her heart raced, and her legs trembled uncontrollably. 

“You okay?”  

“Oh! Uh, yeah, I’m fine!” Nicole stammered, her face a mess of awkwardness. 

Natalie shot her a skeptical look, hesitated, then couldn’t resist asking, “You lived with him so long… didn’t you ever think about having a kid?” 

Dunn was loaded. A kid with him—illegitimate or not—would set you up for life. 

Nicole smiled wryly. “You think he’d go for that?” 

“He wouldn’t?” Natalie blinked rapidly. 

Nicole shook her head, her voice soft. “Nat, I won’t lie to you. I’d love for Dunn to be the father of my kid. But… he doesn’t want me to be the mother of his. Get it?” 

She pointed at her chest, then at Natalie. “We’re not the same!” 

“Oh…”  

Natalie nodded, half-getting it, her face adorably blank. Inside, though, she felt a sweet rush, like she’d just tasted honey. 

No wonder! 

Dunn had so many women, yet all these years, not a single hint of a kid. 

So it was his choice. 

Nice! 

“Maybe he’s not that bad,” Natalie thought, grinning. She glanced at Dunn chatting with Russell Crowe in the distance, then hurried over, her mood bright and bubbly. 

Chapter 309: Can’t Work with Him! 

The awards dinner was about to kick off, and Dunn was seated with the Girl, Interrupted crew.  

Noticing Natalie’s beaming smile and cheerful vibe, Dunn asked curiously, “What’s up? Did you get some inside scoop that you won?”  

“No way, this is the Golden Globes!” Natalie shot him a playful glare.  

This was the second-biggest film award after the Oscars—insider leaks were pretty much impossible. Well, not entirely. The Golden Globes had its share of shady internal scandals over the years.  

That’s part of why the Oscar committee and the Academy looked down on it.  

“Then why are you so happy?”  

“I…” Natalie teased him with a pause, smirking and lowering her voice. “So, have a bunch of women told you they want to have your kid or something?”  

Dunn blinked, then chuckled. “Out of nowhere—why bring that up?”  

“Hmph, just answer!”  

“Alright, no point hiding it. Penny mentioned wanting to have an illegitimate kid with me—I shot that down. Nicole… she’s hinted at it too.”  

Natalie’s lips pursed into a little pout, barely hiding her amusement.  

“What’s so funny?”  

“I’m just happy!”  

Dunn grinned, teasing her back. “What, you want to have a kid now? No big deal—you’re almost 20. You’re not Juno. We could have a little one.”  

“Dream on! I’ve still got school!” Natalie rolled her eyes playfully, then scrunched her nose. “Besides, you know my dad. If I dared get pregnant before marriage…”  

“Easy fix—we’ll get married right now!”  

Natalie bit her lip, glaring at him with mock frustration. “Is that your idea of a proposal? Hmph! I’m focused on school. No marriage or kids until I graduate!”  

Dunn threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. You know me—I’m a feminist. I totally respect women’s choices.”  

“Oh, please! Feminist? Who are you kidding? I know you too well!” Natalie pinched his arm, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “You’re a total chauvinist—and you’ve got a serious… virgin complex, don’t you?”  

“Huh?” Dunn’s eyes widened as he stared at her.  

Natalie huffed. “Don’t play dumb! All those women—so gorgeous—and you’re still not satisfied because they don’t meet your little ‘standards,’ right?”  

Dunn laughed, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You got me. Only a pure, good girl like you—who gave herself to me clean—can be the mother of my kids. Those others? They don’t cut it!”  

“Ugh, you’re so gross!”  

Natalie shoved him away, her cheeks flushing red with a mix of embarrassment, nerves, and a touch of pride.  

“Know why I respect your dad so much, even though he’s so strict with me?” Dunn winked at her mischievously.  

Natalie turned away, blushing harder, muttering, “Who knows what creepy thoughts you’ve got! And anyway, even if Dad wasn’t strict, I wouldn’t be out messing around with random guys.”  

Dunn couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Looks like you really get me, huh?”  

“What? Ugh, you’re the worst! Get up—I’m not sitting with you anymore. Jerk!”  

Natalie pushed at his arm, her rosy cheeks practically glowing.  

…  

The Golden Globes were held as a dinner event, with guests seated around round tables, enjoying food while awaiting the awards.  

The Best Actress in a Drama category was a tight race. Julia Roberts for Erin Brockovich, Nicole Kidman for Girl, Interrupted, and Laura Linney for You Can Count on Me were all top contenders. Plus, veteran Ellen Burstyn from Requiem for a Dream had strong industry buzz.  

The presenter, comedy star Jim Carrey, loudly announced Julia Roberts’ name!  

From the same table, Dunn caught Nicole Kidman’s face twitch for a split second before she plastered on a bright smile and started clapping.  

The Golden Globes were the biggest predictor for the Oscars!  

Over the past few months, Nicole Kidman and Julia Roberts had both been frontrunners, but award voters seemed to lean toward Julia for her acting breakthrough.  

Nicole’s odds of snagging the Best Actress Oscar this year just took a nosedive.  

Dunn could feel the vibe at the Girl, Interrupted table shift. Everyone else clearly picked up on it too. Especially since, in a bit, the Best Supporting Actress award was coming up—and barring a shock, Natalie Portman was a lock to win.  

Same movie, different fates. It left Dunn feeling off. He slouched down, got up, and slipped over to the Gladiator crew’s table nearby.  

It wasn’t exactly proper, but Dunn had enough clout that no one dared call him out.  

“Mind if I sit here?”  

“Dunn? Of course, take a seat!” Director Ridley Scott’s eyes lit up. He quickly made room, plopping Dunn right next to him and waving over Gladiator’s leading lady, Connie Nielsen. “Connie, come here—have a drink with Dunn.”  

Connie Nielsen was 36—kind of a big age gap.  

But this was Hollywood. Status trumped age. For actresses, as long as you stayed gorgeous and charming, that’s what mattered.  

And this was the unstoppable Dunn Walker!  

Even Ridley Scott, a big-name director, didn’t rank on Dunn’s level.  

Dunn shook Connie’s hand, tossing out a few polite but half-hearted remarks. He wasn’t that interested.  

He’d rather chat with Ridley Scott. “Ridley, I’ve got a hunch—Gladiator’s taking Best Picture!”  

Ridley shook his head modestly. “Nah, I think Girl, Interrupted has a better shot.”  

“Oh, hey—got any new projects lined up?” Dunn smiled, steering the conversation elsewhere.  

Ridley hesitated, looking unsure.  

“Too hush-hush to spill?” Dunn raised an eyebrow.  

Ridley paused, then lowered his voice. “Trade secret. Ever heard of a book called Black Hawk Down? It’s based on a real event.”  

“Black Hawk Down?” Dunn’s eyes narrowed.  

Ridley looked surprised. “You know it?”  

Dunn gave a faint smile.  

Oh, he knew it alright!  

A textbook war movie!  

Too bad it hit theaters right after 9/11 and the Afghanistan War, smack in the middle of national trauma. The box office tanked, and Columbia Pictures took a bath.  

But that wasn’t what Dunn cared about. He was more focused on the film’s producer!  

“I heard Pearl Harbor’s post-production is wrapped. Jerry Bruckheimer’s free now?” Dunn squinted, his expression darkening.  

Ridley frowned, not loving Dunn’s interrogating tone, but he kept his cool. He knew his place. “The rights are in Jerry’s hands. Columbia’s already greenlit the investment.”  

Dunn’s face turned icy. “Scott, you’re not seriously planning to work with him, are you?”  

Ridley Scott was a big deal in Hollywood, but he knew his limits. He was a foreigner, and this was Hollywood!  

That’s why, despite classics like Alien, Thelma & Louise, and Gladiator, he stayed low-key, steady, and humble.  

In Hollywood, you keep your head down, stay polite, and play nice. That’s how he’d earned the clout to call the shots back in the UK later.  

Look at it another way: after Dunn snatched Titanic out from under him, Ridley’s industry standing was arguably higher than James Cameron’s right now.  

But in all his films, Ridley had never once secured final cut privileges! It wasn’t about his resume—it’s that he didn’t fight for it.  

That’s why masterpieces like Blade Runner and Kingdom of Heaven flopped at the box office due to botched edits.  

On the flip side, it kept him clean. When Black Hawk Down and Kingdom of Heaven bombed, Ridley didn’t take the fall. He kept rolling in Hollywood, landing big projects.  

Compare that to John Woo, an Asian director who stormed into Hollywood, aced the game early, and nabbed final cut rights—only to pay for his confidence. After two flops, he slunk back to Asia.