546-550

Chapter 546: An Uncertain Project

“Luca, congratulations on winning the Best Actor award at Cannes.”

In the Bra Film Studio’s president’s office, Mr. Ross pushed the door open with a smile.

“Thank you!”

Luca, the diligent actor, smiled briefly, closing the folder in his hands. “How’s the preparation for Inglourious Basterds coming along? When do we start shooting?”

“Not too smoothly.”

Mr. Ross frowned.

The secretary brought in coffee, then closed the door as she exited.

“What happened?”

Luca interlocked his fingers and asked.

“Since May, Quentin’s been auditioning over ten A-list and B-list actors, including Tim Roth, Vincent Cassel, Romain Duris, and Leonardo, but none of them satisfied him.

Recently, he’s got his eye on someone he thinks is perfect, but there’s a bit of a problem with this person. Can you guess who it is?”

Ross squinted mischievously, his grin suggestive.

Luca frowned slightly. “Pitt?”

“Uh... How did you know? Did you read about it in the news? Wait, that’s impossible—both parties are still in preliminary talks. No one outside could possibly know.”

Ross looked surprised.

“I saw your sly grin. That person wasn’t hard to guess.”

Luca chuckled.

Ross shook his head. “Yes, it’s Pitt. Quentin knows about the tension between you two, and I’ve also told him you might not agree to his choice.

But he insists that, per your agreement before collaborating, you wouldn’t interfere with his work and would give him the creative freedom he needs. In other words, if he sticks to Pitt, we can’t object. Are you regretting your earlier decision now?”

“Why would I regret it? I’m an investor, and my priority is profitability. As long as the movie succeeds, I’ll support whoever is cast.”

Luca spoke calmly.

Ross smiled, looking slightly relieved. “Luca, I’m glad to hear you think that way. You’ve become much more professional since your early days in the industry—you’re really acting like a studio head now.”

Luca glanced at him. “So your purpose in coming here was to convince me to support Quentin’s choice?”

“Exactly. I was worried you might let past grievances cloud your judgment and vehemently oppose the casting, which could lead to a fallout with Quentin. If you two can’t see eye to eye, the project’s doomed.”

Ross explained.

“I’ve already said I’ll support his work without meddling in his field, and I’ll stick to my word. But has Pitt agreed to it? Is he willing to work on my production?”

Luca chuckled, stroking his chin.

Ross smiled bitterly. “Initially, Pitt flat-out refused, not even looking at the script.

The second time, Quentin reached out through his agent, who passed the script to Pitt. After reading it, Pitt expressed interest. They’re currently in discussions.”

“So, Pitt’s willing to collaborate?”

Luca was surprised—he didn’t think Pitt was that easygoing.

“Yes. Don’t forget, Pitt is a professional actor. If the script is solid, the project promising, and it’s led by a director of Quentin’s stature, he wouldn’t pass up such a good opportunity.”

Ross reasoned.

Luca nodded, thinking for a moment. “Regardless of who’s cast, the total budget can’t exceed $65 million. The lead actors can’t get a cut of the box office, and apart from the male supporting role, I’ll also serve as the executive writer and producer.”

Initially, Luca had wanted to play the male lead himself, but Quentin said he wasn’t suitable.

The lead character was supposed to be a menacing villain with an aggressive, wild-dog-like demeanor, constantly ready to lash out.

Quentin felt Luca’s demeanor was too gentle and gracious—even his anger came off as "adorably fierce"—and wasn’t ideal for the role.

Considering the movie’s potential box office performance and his own looks, Luca took Quentin’s advice and opted for the second male lead instead.

“Luca, we’ve recalculated. If Pitt is chosen as the lead, $65 million won’t cut it. Your salary is $5 million, but his will be at least $20 million.”

Ross opened a folder filled with figures.

Luca skimmed through it. “How much would the budget increase?”

“At least $10 million,” Ross said.

Luca pondered for a moment. “Alright, but $75 million is the absolute limit. Anything beyond that will affect our other projects.”

“Understood!”

This year, the studio had three movies in production: Inglourious Basterds, 27 Dresses, and The Tuner.  

The first was being independently produced by Bra Studios.

27 Dresses was a joint production with Echo Films, led by Aniston. With a budget of $25 million, Anne Fletcher was directing, and Aniston was producing. It was already in production.

The Tuner was a collaboration with Touchstone Pictures, with an $18 million budget. It was still in pre-production, with no set filming date.

Three movies and three projects—Bra Studios had invested over $100 million this year, pushing its financial limits dangerously close to the red.

“Luca, I’ll go talk to Quentin.”

“Alright!”

After Ross left, Luca returned to his files. Having been away for so long, he was swamped with work, barely able to lift his head.

---

Chapter 547: What Does the Little Bear Eat?

“Ha ha! Are you saying you got used by someone?”

“Yes, they spoke Portuguese with a Rio accent. I casually replied, and before I knew it, I was being used.”

In the kitchen, Luca was sharing one of his embarrassing stories.

Aniston chuckled. “That’s on you! Why don’t you have more people around you? And honestly, your company’s building security is way below standard—it doesn’t match your status at all.”

“Fair point. I’ll bring it up in tomorrow’s meeting. Safety first, no matter what.”

“As it should be.”

Once they finished cooking, the two moved to the dining room.

“George, Catherine, dinner’s ready!” Aniston called out.

The two little ones didn’t respond. They were sprawled on the sofa, holding their tiny feet and staring intently at the TV, which was playing The Little Polar Bear, a simple cartoon perfect for toddlers.

“It’s time to eat!”

Aniston walked over and turned off the TV. Only then did the two kids snap out of their trance, blinking their big eyes.

“Mommy, the little bear hasn’t gone home yet!” Catherine pointed at the now-blank screen.

“You can watch more after dinner. The little bear isn’t going anywhere.”

Luca picked up both kids, one under each arm, and carried them to the dining room.

“Daddy, is the little bear hungry on TV?” Catherine asked curiously.

“Nope. When we’re not watching, the bears eat and rest. So, we shouldn’t watch for too long, or they’ll get really tired.”

Luca smiled.

“Oh, if we eat, the little bear eats too?”

“Exactly! The more you eat, the more the little bear eats.”

Luca tied cartoon aprons around the two little ones, while Aniston set their tiny bowls and spoons in front of them. At this stage, the kids were in a phase of mimicking others, so it was a good time to teach them about eating and dressing themselves.

During dinner, the kids sat in the middle, with Luca and Aniston on either side to help them.

“Mommy, what does the little bear eat?” George asked, chewing on a slice of ham, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Little bears love meat—just like you, George. They eat chicken, fish, and beef. Eating lots of meat helps them grow big and strong.”

Aniston smiled.

“Do the little bear’s mommy and daddy eat with them?” Catherine asked.

“Of course! Little bears, like us, eat together as a family.”

“Do little bears use spoons?” Catherine held up her spoon.

“No, they use their paws.”

“What are paws?”

“Paws are like hands.”

“Hands?”

George looked at his chubby little hands. “Can we use paws to eat too?”

Luca and Aniston burst out laughing.

Patiently, they explained the difference between hands and paws, though it wasn’t easy to convey the idea in terms the kids could grasp. It often felt like they were becoming as childish as the little ones themselves.

“We should find them a teacher,” Luca suggested.

“No need. Parents are the best teachers. Spending more time talking with the kids now will strengthen our bond with them. If you’re too busy to help, I can manage on my own.”

Aniston smiled.

“I have time lately.”

Luca smiled back, continuing to chat with the kids while they ate. The conversations were aimless, silly, and fun—just whatever came to mind.

Dinner took a full hour.

Afterward, it was time for their evening walk.

Outside the villa, the kids became even livelier, asking endless questions about everything they saw. Their curiosity about the world was boundless, and their innocence was utterly adorable.

Catherine could spend ages pointing at a blade of grass, asking about it. Little George, meanwhile, stared up at the setting sun until he got dizzy, plopping down onto the ground with a small cry before picking himself up and dusting off his chubby hands.

The family of four walked hand-in-hand, chatting as they strolled. The two little ones hopped and chattered between them, their joy infectious.

They wandered from the villa to the park, enjoying the shift from sunset to twilight.

After a delightful afternoon, Luca was back at work the next day, energized and ready.

---

As he reached his office, someone suddenly ran up to him.

“Luca, can you help me look at a script?”

Startled, Luca nearly called security, thinking it was another fame-seeker sneaking in. But then he saw Billy’s chubby face and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Billy, you almost got yourself thrown out by my bodyguards!”

“Why?!” Billy asked, bewildered.

Luca chuckled and recounted yesterday’s incident. “I thought you were another gold digger trying to sneak in.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. I am here to strike gold.” Billy grinned, holding up a script. “This is the latest draft of The Tuner. The production department approved it, but I won’t feel confident until you’ve had a look.”

“Alright, let me see.”

Luca skimmed the script. The story was similar to the extended version of the Bollywood movie he’d seen, a suspenseful crime comedy. In this version, the story was set in the U.S., with a pianist faking blindness to gain inspiration. He ends up witnessing a murder during a private concert and becomes the sole witness. The killer, however, is no amateur, and his act is soon uncovered.

It expanded on the original short film, adding more characters, richer scenes, and greater depth. If executed well, it could be an excellent suspense film. Whether it would be a box-office hit was anyone’s guess.

“So, what do you think, Luca?” Billy asked.

“Not bad. I don’t see any major issues. Now that the script is done, when are you planning to start shooting?”

“27 Dresses will wrap in two months. Once that’s done, I’ll dive into The Tuner. No conflicts between the two projects.”

Luca smiled knowingly.

Ever since the last incident, Billy and director Anne Fletcher had appeared to reconcile, but there was an unspoken rivalry. With Anne’s rise as a prominent director, Billy felt left behind and was eager to prove himself.

“Billy, you’re in charge of this. Let me know if you need help.”

“Really? Then would you star as the lead in The Tuner?” Billy teased.

“Nope. First, I don’t have time—I already have two roles lined up for later this year. Second, if there’s no Oscar potential, I’m not interested. And third, my fees are steep. Can your budget handle a star like me?”

“Fair enough. Forget I asked.”

Billy left with a hint of disappointment.

Luca chuckled and returned to work.

At lunch, Natalie Portman called to discuss a new project and asked if Luca had time to meet. He invited her to his office to talk.

(End of chapter)  

Chapter 548: "It's All Thanks to the Competition"

“Is this what a billionaire’s office looks like? It’s… very refined!”

Natalie glanced around the office and commented after taking it all in.

“You can just say it’s small; no need to sugarcoat it.”

Luca chuckled. His office was indeed modest, just over 60 square meters.

Despite suggestions from Ross and a few others to move to a larger office, Luca refused. The current location offered a wide, open view of the street and plaza below, which he quite enjoyed. As for the furnishings and decor, he didn’t care much—it was just a temporary workspace, so there was no need to make it overly lavish.

“It is a bit small—doesn’t quite match your status. But I must admit, you’re very diligent.”

Natalie looked at the stacks of files on his desk in astonishment.

“This is just work that piled up over the past few days. I’ve been working overtime to clear it up, so I can take a break soon.”

“Haha, that sounds like you’re catching up on homework.”

“Exactly!”

The two moved to the coffee corner and sat down to talk business.

In celebration of the 60th anniversary of the Cannes Film Festival, several renowned international directors had collaborated on Paris, Je T’aime, a film composed of a series of short stories paying homage to the festival. The film had been well-received.

Following its success, the producer and a group of well-known directors planned a similar project titled New York, I Love You, and Natalie had been invited to join.

“Are you thinking about directing?” Luca asked with a smile.

“No, just giving it a try.” Natalie shrugged with a laugh. “Didn’t you try it once? Your film The Tuner was amazing. You wrote, directed, and acted in it—and it turned out so well! How can you be this talented?”

Luca smiled faintly. “It’s nothing, really. Just a matter of standing out against the competition.”

Natalie burst into laughter. “If I became a director, would I be just another foil for you?”

“Not necessarily. You’re so talented—maybe I’d end up being the foil.”

Natalie shook her head, still smiling. “Luca, my short film still needs a male lead. Would you be interested?”

“Do you have a script?”

“Yes!”

Natalie handed him a folder.

The script was for a five-minute short film about a seemingly ordinary stay-at-home dad who used to be an excellent dancer. The story revolved around dreams and aspirations.

“Well, what do you think?”

“It’s not bad. Short and sweet—perfect for a beginner.”

“So, will you take it?” Natalie asked eagerly.

After a moment of thought, Luca nodded. It was a short commitment—just one day of shooting—and wouldn’t take much time.

Once their discussion was over, Natalie left, and Luca returned to work.

---

“Mr. Kelly, where should I put this?”

His secretary, tidying up the coffee corner, walked out holding a small black canister labeled Self-Defense Spray.  

Luca’s expression froze. He was all too familiar with such items—Miranda had stashed countless similar ones at home, featuring pepper extract, mustard extract, chili oil, and more, catering to all potential "needs."

“Where did you find that?” he asked darkly.

“By the corner of the sofa.” The secretary gestured toward the room.

Luca shook his head. Natalie Portman, you’re something else.

“Put it back where you found it.”

“Understood.” The secretary smiled and left the office.

---

Before long, there was a knock at the door.

“Luca, I think I left something behind.”

Natalie walked in, slightly out of breath.

“No worries. No one’s touched anything inside. It should still be there.”

“Good!”

She hurried into the coffee corner, relieved to see her item still on the sofa. Thankfully, it hadn’t been discovered—what an embarrassment that would have been.

But then she noticed the table and sofa had been tidied up. That meant...

“Natalie, did you find it?” Luca called from the doorway.

“Yes, I found it!” Natalie quickly hid the item behind her back, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“What was it?”

“Nothing.”

Natalie looked visibly awkward.

Luca smirked knowingly. “Natalie, it’s almost lunchtime. How about grabbing a quick bite? I just remembered a new film project I want to discuss with you. Got time?”

“A new film? Why didn’t you mention it earlier?” Natalie asked suspiciously.

“I’ve been swamped—just remembered now,” Luca said, rubbing his forehead.

Natalie agreed and followed him downstairs to a restaurant.

---

“Luca, what’s this new film you mentioned?” Natalie asked, diving straight into work once they were seated.

“In a hurry, are we?”

Luca chuckled and asked his secretary to bring over the script.

“A writer submitted this script to the company for consideration. I thought it was pretty good. Want to take a look?”

Black Swan.  

Natalie’s interest was immediately piqued by the title. As she read through the script, she became increasingly captivated. It was a compelling story with a strong female lead, perfectly suited for her. As a trained ballet dancer, she felt confident she could excel in the role.

“Luca, is this your next project?”

“Yes, we’re planning to start production next year or the year after.”

Natalie nodded seriously, then said, “Luca, what do you think about me playing the lead? I’ve trained in ballet since childhood, and I’m confident in my acting skills.”

Luca regarded her thoughtfully. “I’ve considered working with you, but…”

“But what?” Natalie asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

Luca spread his hands. “Collaboration requires trust, and it feels like there’s a lack of trust between us.”

“What? We’re friends—I trust you, and you can trust me.”

“Really?” Luca asked with a smile. “What kind of person do you think I am?”

“You? You’re talented, smart, capable. Honestly, you’re perfect.”

“Is that your honest opinion?”

“Yes!”

“So, your impression of me is quite positive.”

Natalie was puzzled. “Why are you asking all this?”

Luca glanced at her. “Nothing, really. It’s just that I have a bad reputation. I was worried you might’ve heard rumors and thought of me as a predator, always on guard. How could we work together like that?”

“…”

Hearing the word predator, Natalie’s cheeks flushed instantly. She realized he must’ve noticed the self-defense spray.

“I can explain. I didn’t bring it because of you. It just makes me feel safe,” Natalie said hesitantly.

Luca smiled faintly, his expression meaningful.

Natalie glared at him. “Fine, I admit it. I was on guard—but it’s not my fault! Scarlett said you’re incredibly dangerous. She said anyone who gets close to you will fall for your charm and end up in your bed willingly.”

“That exaggerated?”

“She said you’re even better than Don Juan.” Natalie chuckled.

Luca shook his head, resisting the urge to swat her.

“Now that the misunderstanding’s cleared, do you think I’m a good fit for the lead role?” Natalie asked.

“Let’s finish lunch first. The project hasn’t been greenlit yet, so it’s too early to discuss casting. Besides, casting decisions are made by the director, not me.”

“We’re friends. Can’t you make an exception?” Natalie protested.

“You’re so talented—you’ll get the role on your own merits, won’t you?”

“I will, but you’re so petty! I bring one little spray bottle, and you hold it against me?”

Luca chuckled. “Do you know how much it hurts my self-esteem that you brought a self-defense spray to meet me? It’s making me rethink what kind of person I am.”

“Do you really need to rethink? Open any newspaper—all the headlines about you scream two words: ‘Good Man.’ How’s that?”

Seeing Luca’s darkened expression, Natalie stifled a laugh and raised her glass.

“That’s better. My feelings are much soothed.”

“You’re so petty!”

Chapter 549: A Ten Million Dollar Script

The screenplay for Black Swan had been secured by the company long ago.

Originally, he planned to discuss Black Swan with Natalie next year. However, her attitude earlier today annoyed him, so he decided to bring it up ahead of schedule to pique her interest—and to remind her that even a "jerk" has his limits.

In the afternoon, Luca finished his work and stopped by to visit Ambrosio.

Since giving birth, Ambrosio had been recuperating well. Her figure was recovering nicely, and her baby was healthy and chubby—though admittedly not as beautiful as George, Louis, or Max. Blame genetics; the father wasn’t particularly handsome.

“What have you been up to lately?” Ambrosio asked, setting down a chilled glass of watermelon juice.

“Work stuff. The company has four film projects this year, so every department is busy. As the boss, I can’t lag behind—I’ve been putting in overtime alongside everyone else.”

Luca shrugged.

“You’re quite the good boss,” Ambrosio remarked with a laugh.

“Of course!”

After chatting for a bit, Jamie came downstairs. “Luca, let’s go!”

“All right!”

Luca followed Jamie to a beachfront club, where they drank, danced, and gambled.

Though not his type of activity, Jamie was insistent. He said Luca needed to meet new people and do what young folks do. Reluctantly, Luca agreed.

By the end of the afternoon, he had lost tens of thousands of dollars but didn’t feel too bad. The next day, he was back to work, energetic as ever.

---

“Luca, negotiations aren’t going well. Pitt’s agency is demanding $35 million, or $20 million plus 15% of the box office. If we give him $35 million, we’ll need to increase the budget,” Mr. Ross reported.

Luca frowned. “What was Pitt’s last film’s pay?”

“Last year, he did two films—one for $20 million and another for $25 million,” Ross said.

“So they’re inflating his price on purpose?”

“Exactly. They claim he’s worth it.”

Luca shook his head. “I’ve starred in several films grossing over $100 million, and for years, I’ve been one of the most cost-effective actors. Yet my pay is still around $5 million. Pitt’s recent box office numbers aren’t even as good as mine, and they want $35 million? Do they think I’m a pushover?”

“Are you suggesting we reject him?”

“What’s the production team’s take?”

Ross hesitated. “$35 million is too high; we can’t accept it. Some suggest recasting, while others want to negotiate further. I’d like your opinion.”

Luca pondered briefly. “What does Quentin think?”

“Quentin wants Pitt. He feels Pitt is the best fit.”

“And Pitt? When negotiating, did he seem genuinely interested?”

“I’ve met him twice. He and Quentin seemed to get along well.”

Luca nodded, then picked up the phone to call Quentin Tarantino.

Quentin confirmed his support for Pitt, saying the actor was enthusiastic and eager to work together—specifically because Pitt wanted to collaborate with him.

After hanging up, Luca mulled it over. “Continue talks with Pitt. Make it clear $35 million is out of the question. We have a great script, director, and team. Regardless of who we cast, the box office will be solid. We don’t rely on big-name actors.”

“What do you think is a fair offer?”

“It shouldn’t exceed the total budget. Anything more will strain other areas of funding. You know our company’s situation; we won’t increase the budget further.”

“Understood.”

Ross left to continue negotiations.

---

Two days later, Ross returned, frustrated. “Pitt’s side is holding firm—$35 million or $20 million plus 15% of the box office, not a penny less.”

“Then drop him. Have Quentin recast. Hollywood is vast; there’s no way we can’t find someone better than Pitt,” Luca said coldly.

“Got it!”

Not long after, Quentin called.

Quentin Tarantino, a renowned indie filmmaker celebrated for his unique brand of violent aesthetics, nonlinear storytelling, and dark humor, had cultivated a devoted cult following. His works included Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, and Kill Bill.

“Luca, we’ve considered nearly every actor in the industry, and none are more suitable than Pitt. I don’t think we should give up so soon.”

“Quentin, you’re aware of Pitt’s demands—$35 million, no compromise, no sincerity. How am I supposed to justify keeping him?

When we first discussed Inglourious Basterds, it was meant to be a low-budget project. Now the budget is $75 million, far from our initial vision. I hope you’ll seriously reconsider. Honestly, I think I’d be a great fit for the role.”

Luca chuckled.

“Luca, don’t even joke about that. The movie’s called Inglourious Basterds, and Aldo, the lead, is a scoundrel—a complete bastard. You don’t look nearly mean or ruthless enough.”

“Fine. If I’m not fit, neither is Pitt. His price is too high, and his attitude is insincere. I suggest we keep looking.”

“That will delay our schedule.”

“Do we have a better option?”

“...Fair enough.”

After hanging up, Luca sighed. No butcher, no pork.  

---

Three days later, with no progress in casting, production on Inglourious Basterds was officially postponed.

“Ha! Wilson, do you think that Brazilian bumpkin will cave?” Pitt laughed, puffing a cigar at Plan B Entertainment.

“No,” Wilson replied firmly. “He’s a genuine tycoon.”

Pitt’s face darkened. “So what? This is Hollywood. Everyone follows the rules here, no exceptions.

Quentin believes I’m the best fit for this role. Without me, this film isn’t happening.”

“What if Quentin agrees to recast?” Wilson asked.

“He won’t. Great directors are stubborn, and Quentin is the most stubborn of them all.”

Wilson nodded. “What if Luca replaces Quentin?”

“Ha! Replace him? The script is steeped in Quentin’s signature style—dark, violent, tailor-made for him. No one else can do it justice. If they change directors, it’ll be a blessing for us.”

Pitt chuckled, an idea forming.

“Wilson, reach out to their company. See if they’re willing to sell the script.”

“You’re thinking—?”

“This script is solid. That bumpkin has no other talents, but he sure can write. If they can’t move forward, we’ll buy it, then have Quentin direct it.”

Excited, Pitt continued, “Right now, their best move is to cut losses.”

“Got it!”

Two days later, Wilson reported back.

“How did it go?” Pitt asked.

“They’re unwilling to sell, not even for $10 million.”

Wilson shrugged.

“Fools. Let’s see how they handle it when I convince Quentin to side with me,” Pitt sneered, picking up his phone.

(Chapter Ends)  

Chapter 550: Not Coming Home Tonight

---

"Luca, Quentin called. He said this delay is wasting too much time, and he's pulling out of the project," Mr. Ross said in the office.

Luca rubbed his temples. "He's still insistent on Pitt, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Can we sue him for breaching the contract?"

"Not worth it. He's a big-name director, and if the media hears it's because of Pitt, they'll spin it as us meddling in a director's creative process. That would hurt our reputation."

"Fine, let him go. If we're not on the same wavelength, there's no point working together."

Luca shook his head. His decision to adapt this script had two motives: one, it had solid box office potential, and two, it could block Pitt's career move. If the project got shelved, it wasn’t a huge loss for him.

"Luca, reconsider. Only Quentin can turn this script into a great film. Other directors won't be able to handle it."

Ross tried to persuade him.

"Can't handle it? Ross, you're wrong. This is Hollywood, where talent abounds. Do you think the success of this movie hinges on Pitt and Quentin? I don’t."

Originally, Luca had planned to revisit the project in a couple of years. But Ross's words—and thoughts of Pitt laughing at his failure—changed his mind.

"Who do you think is suitable, then?"

Ross asked.

After a moment of deliberation, Luca replied, "I’ll direct this movie myself."

"What did you just say?"

Ross was stunned. "You’re planning to direct it?"

"Yes, you heard me right. First, get in touch with Eli Roth, the director of Cabin Fever and Hostel. His work in dark, violent films is impressive. I’ll bring him on as a co-director."

Eli Roth, known for his role in Inglourious Basterds and his collaborations with Quentin and Rodriguez on Grindhouse, was a promising mid-tier director. Luca had watched Grindhouse last month and found Roth’s segments to be just as good as those of his veteran co-directors.

For a young, talented director seeking opportunities, Roth would be an excellent partner.

"Eli Roth? He’s pretty young," Ross noted.

"Young? He’s in his thirties. If you have doubts, watch his films. Quentin is a seasoned director, but I prefer working with younger talent."

"Alright. Anything else?"

"Yes, reach out to Robert Downey Jr. and Jason Statham. Give them the script and ask if they’re interested in playing Aldo."

Ross nodded. "Both are good choices, especially Downey. His troubled past—drug use and jail time—makes him the perfect bad boy. Honestly, he might be even better than Pitt. Why didn’t you suggest him earlier?"

"I just thought of it," Luca shrugged.

Ross chuckled sarcastically. "Sure, I believe you."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Since Quentin is leaving, we’ll keep the crew members he selected—cinematographers, art directors, costume designers, and so on."

"That’s respect?" Ross raised an eyebrow. "You’re clearly salvaging the best parts after he left."

"Of course, it’s respect. People usually say, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’ But we’ll show Quentin that even in his absence, his foundation remains strong. That’s my promise to him," Luca said earnestly.

Ross nodded. "Great speech. But when Quentin said he’s leaving, did it not occur to you to call him and try to keep him on board?"

Luca blinked. "If he didn’t bother informing me before leaving, wouldn’t calling him now be awkward? Fine, you have a point. I’ll give him a call."

Luca dialed Quentin, asking him to stay and help find the perfect actor for the lead role. After all, three months of preparation would go to waste if the project fell apart now.

But Quentin declined, citing a busy schedule and a new opportunity. He added that if Pitt returned, he’d reconsider.

"Alright, goodbye."

Luca hung up and sighed. "Pitt really has everyone wrapped around his finger. Why do people kiss his feet instead of admiring me—a young, wealthy, and handsome genius?"

"Maybe you’re just too exceptional. They’re intimidated," Ross quipped dryly.

Luca gave him a thumbs-up. "Spot on."

"Anything else?"

"Not for now. Secure the co-director and lead actors first; we’ll sort the rest later."

"Got it!"

After Ross left, Luca leaned back in his chair, lost in thought.

Two hours later, drenched in sweat from brainstorming, he ignored his hunger, opened his laptop, and began typing the director’s script for Inglourious Basterds. This version was for his use, so he meticulously detailed every aspect—actor expressions, blocking, costumes, makeup, set design, props, music, and more.

*Knock, knock.*

"Boss, it’s six o’clock. Are you leaving for the day?" his secretary asked.

Luca glanced at the clock—6:20 PM. "Doria, get me some dinner and call home. Let them know I’m working late and won’t be back tonight."

"Uh…"

"Go!"

Without lifting his head, Luca continued typing furiously.

"Yes, sir!"

Doria hesitated, wondering if she should stay late herself. If her billionaire boss was working overtime, could she afford to slack off? Staying might earn her points. But what if this was just a ploy?

To be safe, she called Luca’s estate. Miranda answered in a sweet voice.

"Miss Kerr, this is Doria, Mr. Kelly’s secretary."

"Oh, Doria. I know who you are. What’s up?"

"Mr. Kelly said he’s working late and might not come home tonight. He asked me to inform Mrs. Kelly and Miss Lima."

"Wait… he’s working late? All night? Why didn’t he call himself? Don’t tell me he’s too busy to make a phone call."

"He’s writing a script and hasn’t even had lunch. He seems inspired," Doria explained.

"Writing a script? Alright, I’ll let them know," Miranda replied with a chuckle before hanging up.

---

(To be continued…)