6-10

Chapter 6: The Winds Rise in Los Angeles

"Are you still going to Los Angeles?"

Plymouth, Massachusetts.

At the gate of the Blackburn family estate.

Joseph Blackburn frowned as he watched his son prepare to get into the car.

Milo shrugged and answered, "Grandfather already gave me his blessing, and staying here wouldn't really help the family."

Joseph thought to himself, If it weren’t for my father’s approval, I’d never let you go to California!

He had already lost one son and couldn’t afford to lose another.

Especially since Paladin left no heirs, and this kid still wasn’t married!

But since Old John had already spoken, Joseph didn’t dare defy his father's decision.

Hearing Milo’s words, Joseph could only turn away.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Robin stepped forward, looking somewhat downcast. "Paladin just left me, and now you’re going too…"

"Mom!"

Milo quickly tried to comfort her, "I promise I’ll take good care of myself and get regular checkups every month. I won’t let what happened to Paladin happen to me, okay?"

Of course, Robin knew her son was grown and needed to do his own thing.

But she regretted not having more children when she was younger, so now there was no one around to keep her company.

"I understand, I understand… at least I still have Hailey with me."

Robin took Hailey’s hand, the older daughter-in-law standing beside her.

Milo glanced at Hailey.

In the days since Paladin’s passing, Hailey’s complexion had improved quite a bit. She wasn’t wallowing in grief anymore.

Her skin, naturally pale, didn’t need makeup to look radiant.

Standing there, with her waist straight and chest lifted, she had an elegant posture.

Through the eyes of an adult, Hailey, still under 30, was at the peak of her youthful charm.

"Safe travels, and take care of yourself," Hailey advised her brother-in-law.

Milo nodded at her, then embraced his family members one by one.

When he hugged Hailey, feeling her graceful body, he suddenly whispered, "Hailey, I’ll miss you..."

At her surprised expression, Milo quickly pulled away.

He smiled at the rest of the family, saying, "I’ll miss you all! Alright, goodbye, my dear family!"

Turning around, Milo confidently got into the car.

It was a Plymouth Laser, a two-door sports car produced locally under the Chrysler Corporation’s Plymouth brand.

Hailey remembered, six years ago, Milo had driven this very car when he had knocked Paladin’s strongest political rival out of the picture.

That rival had been a charismatic African American Democrat, a brilliant orator.

And now, thinking back to Milo’s earlier embrace and words, and how much he resembled her late husband—though with a more commanding and cheerful demeanor—she fell silent, staring at the car as it drove away.

---

Several hours later, the plane from Boston landed at Los Angeles International Airport.

Milo stepped off the plane wearing sunglasses, a white T-shirt, faded jeans, and Adidas sneakers.

With his tall, muscular build and handsome face, he exuded an air of confidence that drew the attention of women around him.

Wendy Alice, who had arrived in Los Angeles a few days earlier, spotted Milo and his bodyguards from a distance.

The man seemed to glow with an undeniable presence, naturally attracting eyes.

Sure enough, a few people were already taking photos of him. After all, this was Los Angeles.

They probably mistook him for some Hollywood star.

"Hey, Wendy," Milo quickly walked over to greet him with a hug.

Wendy, feeling the warmth of Milo’s greeting, opened his arms and returned the hug. "Boss, welcome back to Los Angeles."

He used "back" instead of "to," since even though Plymouth was Milo’s true hometown, after he had sent that rival flying six years ago, he had moved to California. He’d been living here for nearly six years now, so "back" was appropriate.

"Heh, you’ve had a tough time these last few days," Milo said, returning the hug.

After Paladin’s funeral, Milo didn’t rush to leave, but at his request, Wendy had returned to Los Angeles early to make preparations.

Wendy smiled wryly. "It was tough, you gave me so little time!"

After complaining, he boasted, "But don’t worry, I managed to pull it off—I’ve set up a temporary acquisition team!"

Wendy introduced the people around him to Milo.

"Nelson, the representative from Bank of America, will handle our loans and financial matters."

"Coson, an old acquaintance. He was the actuary and accountant when we negotiated with Miramax. He’s our financial advisor for this acquisition."

"Georgia, we’ve worked together before. He’s an excellent market researcher…"

"…"

"And me," Wendy concluded with a smile, "I’m the project manager and legal advisor for this acquisition!"

"Haha~"

Milo playfully punched Wendy in the arm. The two were clearly very close. "I trust you, just make sure you can get me a stake in this company. I don’t need the whole thing, but at least half!"

Hearing this, Wendy shrugged, a bit more confident now. "If that’s the case, then it’s no problem."

"Great, let’s eat first, I’m starving!" Milo called, signaling for everyone to follow.

At 176 North Canon Drive in Beverly Hills, there was a famous restaurant called Spago Beverly Hills, a Michelin two-star restaurant.

While ordering, Milo listened attentively as Wendy and the others provided a detailed briefing about their target company.

After ordering some of his favorite dishes, such as salmon pizza and tuna roe tacos, he passed the menu to the others and asked with a grin, "So, in the end, Sequoia’s willing to give me half the shares because I’m a Blackburn?"

"Yes," Wendy replied as others placed their orders, "Including that Netscape company you’re so keen on, there are a lot of venture capitalists that are interested right now. The company you want to acquire is also in high demand."

Wendy heard Milo muttering something, but he didn’t quite catch it.

What he didn’t know was that Milo had spoken : "Damn, it’s good to be rich!"

Milo smiled at Wendy. "Let’s eat first, order whatever you want! Afterward, we’ll head over."

When it was Wendy’s turn to order, he slapped his big belly with a smile. "Great! I’ve been starving. I feel like I could eat a whole cow right now. I want everything on the menu!"

Milo gave him an exasperated look, teasing, "You should go on a diet, or you’ll just get fatter."

Wendy shrugged, unbothered. "Who cares? If I can’t enjoy good food, I might as well be dead!"

The others watching the interaction couldn’t help but laugh.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 7: Beverly Hills*

Soon, the first course was served.

Foie gras with tuna roe in a delicate egg cone, beautifully plated, its aroma overwhelming.

Milo scooped a spoonful of roe into his mouth, the small grains rolling gently between his lips, and with a light bite, the burst of flavor made his taste buds cheer.

It was indeed delicious. Even though it was pricey, it was still a rare, top-tier ingredient.

The chef's technique was impeccable, preserving the purest flavors of the ingredients.

The foie gras was incredibly smooth, melting in his mouth like snow in water.

The tuna was tender, rich, and its flavor was unparalleled.

Though it was delicious, Milo felt a little down. He was used to food served in large portions, but Western meals were just too small.

However, there were still many dishes to come, so he’d surely be full by the end.

Pizza, salad, bread soup, steak… one by one, the dishes entered Milo’s stomach. After everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, they all went their separate ways.

Tomorrow, they would head to San Francisco for a negotiation, so today was about resting and recharging.

Milo had been living in California for nearly six years, so naturally, he had a place to stay.

His home was located in Beverly Hills, at 9406 Crest Avenue, a modern-style mansion covering 21,344.4 square feet, with five bedrooms and nine bathrooms. It was his base in Los Angeles.

He rode in a business car back to the villa and arrived at the entrance.

Wendy, sitting in the passenger seat, turned to see Milo staring blankly at the gate.

"We're here, Milo," Wendy said.

"Paladin really likes this house," Milo suddenly remarked. "He especially loves the weather here in L.A., says it’s nothing like the gloomy atmosphere in Plymouth. This house, too, was bought for me by him."

Wendy was silent.

She thought to herself, It’s not just this house. You’re living a life of indulgence in California, just like before.

That’s all because of Paladin's favor.

Other spoiled, neglected heirs don’t get to live as well as you do.

But, of course, she couldn’t say that out loud. Wendy simply smiled gently and said, "You’re right, my dear boss. We must always look forward."

"You’re right," Milo said with a grin, the brief melancholic expression on his face fading. His face lit up with a smile as radiant as California sunshine.

"Paladin wouldn’t want me to wallow in sadness. I can’t disappoint him~"

With that lofty speech, he snapped his fingers and asked Wendy to call someone to organize a party.

Wendy was speechless, but she noticed that this trip to Los Angeles felt different than before.

Before coming here, Old John and Joseph had sought him out for a long talk.

Since then, Wendy's standing within the Blackburn organization had risen by two or three ranks. She had more resources to command.

Wendy understood the reason.

With Paladin gone, the previously ignored heir had become the family’s sole successor.

No matter how unreliable this guy might be, his position was now on an unstoppable rise.

Sigh…

Wendy sighed, but quickly replaced the frown with a smile. "Alright, as long as you can move past the sadness."

"Pick out some clean and wholesome people. I trust you understand what I mean~" Milo winked at him.

Wendy thought to himself, You didn’t used to be so picky.

But now, even if you didn’t say it, I would do it anyway.

Wendy left to arrange the party, leaving Milo with only his two bodyguards.

The two bodyguards were named David and York. David had been Milo’s bodyguard for years.

David had been with Milo since he first came to Los Angeles.

As for York, he used to work for Paladin. Before Milo set off for this trip, York had been assigned to him and would now be serving as Milo’s personal bodyguard.

Milo wasn’t very familiar with York, but he knew David quite well. David had worked for the CIA before, but after a mishap, the Blackburn family had taken him in.

It wasn’t hard for the Blackburns to keep David, considering Milo’s maternal grandfather had once served as the CIA Director.

After the others had left, Milo began wandering around the villa.

The weather in Plymouth in June was still rainy and a bit chilly, but in Los Angeles, the sun was shining brightly.

The villa was cleverly designed, with five floors above ground and three below. The first floor was at the back of the house, with the entrance and garage doors. Upon entering, the living room with huge floor-to-ceiling windows and an open door greeted you.

On this level, there was a gourmet kitchen, a wine-tasting room, and a wet bar.

The second and third floors were for bedrooms and living spaces.

The main suite, at 2000 square feet, featured a private dressing room, two garden lounges, two walk-in closets, and a glass display room for shoes.

The basement level was dedicated to entertainment, with a luxurious bar, spa, and cinema area. It also had an infinity pool, Himalayan salt sauna, Japanese soaking tub, and a private gym.

The lowest level, the -2 floor, led to a beautiful garden platform with a pool that extended out from the villa. This space was ideal for hosting outdoor parties for around fifty people.

Milo remembered hosting many parties here in the past.

The gorgeous infinity pool, the garden, the bedrooms—so many memories, many of which involved Hollywood actors, models, and other young celebrities.

Taking a walk, Milo ended up at the back of the house, facing the car garage on Crest Avenue.

Inside the garage, four cars were quietly parked.

One was a Mercedes-Benz business van—he had ridden in that car earlier.

There was also a brand new neon-colored Toyota sedan, which looked somewhat like a sporty coupe.

Milo noticed the "Camry" label on the back, this was a sporty version of the North American Camry.

It was the villa’s nanny car, used for errands like grocery shopping.

The other two cars were sports cars.

One was a flashy blue Ferrari 308 GTS.

With a V8 mid-mounted engine, the car had a top speed of 252 km/h, and its engine delivered 188 kW of power.

It was an older car, one that Milo’s uncle, George Bush, had given him on his sixteenth birthday. That was just two months after Milo had accidentally hit the African-American speaker.

His uncle certainly had a strange sense of humor.

The last car was more typical.

It was a red Lamborghini Diablo SE30, a 30th Anniversary special edition made to celebrate Lamborghini's 30th anniversary. Only 150 units were produced, and it was priced at $380,000.

It had a V12 engine, producing 525 horsepower. The car could go from 0 to 100 km/h in 4 seconds, with a top speed of 331 km/h.

Last year, Paladin had given it to Milo as a birthday gift.

But despite its luxury, the car didn’t have air conditioning, a radio, or even a CD player.

It did, however, have an automatic fire extinguisher system under the hood to prevent engine overheating and extinguish fires at the push of a button…

Milo thought to himself, I’ve never driven such an extravagant car before.

In his past life, he’d been a struggling screenwriter, and the best car he ever owned was a modest Qin L sedan.

For most men, the allure of luxury sports cars was no less than that of a stunning supermodel.

Seeing the two sports cars resting in the garage felt like watching two beauties lying on a mattress, waiting to be pampered.

Milo couldn’t resist. He called over David and York and asked them to get the keys.

York hesitated when he saw Milo heading for the sports cars. Paladin had almost never driven a sports car.

But David, who knew Milo well, didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the keys without a second thought.

David even suggested, "It’s pretty hot today. The Lamborghini has no air conditioning. The Ferrari might be more comfortable."

Milo, happy to oblige, took the Ferrari keys and excitedly jumped in. As the garage door slowly lifted, he started the engine, revved the throttle, and the roar of the engine sent a thrill through him.

David and York didn’t waste time either. They got into the Lamborghini, which didn’t have air conditioning.

Milo wasn’t bothered. In his past life, he often drove sports cars with David trailing in another vehicle to provide protection.

As the garage door fully opened, the Ferrari 308 GTS shot out, its engine roaring with excitement.

The sports car slowly made its way down the driveway, turning onto Crest Avenue.

A surge of adrenaline hit Milo, and the car shot forward like an arrow from a bow, its speed thrilling him.

But it didn’t last long. Milo had to slow down.

Crest Avenue was a winding road in Beverly Hills.

If you dared to speed, you'd really be flying down the hill.

No matter how good a car was, you couldn’t drive fast here. The road was crowded with traffic, so Milo had to ease up on the gas.

Looking out the window, he felt a sense of nostalgia and wonder at the familiar, yet unfamiliar, mansions around him.

Los Angeles, a city of stars, with Hollywood just around the corner.

Naturally, Beverly Hills carried with it a certain kind of vulgar hustle, filled with restless energy.

Slowing down, Milo glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing David and York following closely behind.

He drove aimlessly for a while.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 8: I’m Having a Party*

As the most famous "city within a city" in Los Angeles, Beverly Hills boasts the world's most upscale shopping street.

Starting from 9406 Crest Avenue, you drive down Mulholland Drive, take a turn, and enter the iconic Rodeo Drive, Beverly Hills' famous shopping district.

Rodeo Drive is the most prestigious shopping street in Beverly Hills, home to the most expensive stores in Southern California.

The motto of the luxury stores here is: “If you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it.”

Driving a sports car down Rodeo Drive, Milo didn’t get out of the car.

The weather was perfect, and the street was crowded with people, many of whom were clearly tourists.

Most of them were carrying cameras, snapping photos of anything they saw.

Sports cars, beautiful women—those were Milo's interests.

But luxury brands, high-end stores, he didn’t care for them.

As a descendant of the Mayflower, and part of one of the more successful branches of the Blackburn family, they rarely bought these so-called top-tier luxury goods.

It’s not that they couldn’t afford brands like Hermes, Chanel, or Louis Vuitton, but the tailors on Savile Row offered better value.

After a quick loop, Milo decided to head home as the sun began to set.

As his two sports cars reached the end of Rodeo Drive and were about to turn onto Mulholland Drive, through the car window, Milo saw someone setting up what seemed like a movie scene.

Speaking of movies, this was the most famous calling card of Los Angeles.

Milo had always been fascinated by Hollywood and the media industry. Before his rebirth, he had worked in this very field.

Though he entered the industry late and wasn’t formally trained, he had made a career as a screenwriter for short videos and skits.

In his previous life, he never even watched a movie being filmed.

So, curious, he parked the car and began observing the set.

After watching for a while, Milo realized it wasn’t a movie set. There were only about 10 people involved, so it seemed like an advertisement shoot instead.

Having figured that out, Milo was about to leave, but soon, he was captivated by the female lead of the commercial.

She looked about twenty, with delicate features and an exotic charm.

She had the beauty of an Eastern woman and the allure of a Western one.

Standing still, she looked like a painting.

“Katherine, please stand over here and keep the same pose as before, it was very pretty. Of course, smile a bit more brightly!”

A man, presumably the director, said eagerly.

“Okay,” the girl nodded, cooperating well with the shoot.

The director directed Katherine into several more poses as Milo continued to watch.

Her face, combined with her body, was absolutely stunning.

The small production crew, including the actress herself, had already noticed Milo.

He’d parked his Ferrari on the side and had gotten out of the car to watch.

After him, a Lamborghini pulled up, with two large men stepping out and standing close to him.

Clearly bodyguards.

It was obvious that Milo wasn’t someone the small crew could ignore.

Whether it was a movie, TV show, or commercial, being watched was just part of the job when filming in public.

But the thing was, this young man was tall, handsome, and his car and bodyguards made it clear that he was someone important.

The small ad crew, of course, didn’t dare to approach him.

Meanwhile, Milo, his mind full of thoughts, maintained a polite smile while watching the young British actress, Catherine Zeta-Jones, shooting the ad.

After watching for a while, Milo figured out it was just a simple fashion commercial. He hadn’t heard of the brand, but given Catherine’s current status in Hollywood, it was unlikely she’d be doing an ad for a top-tier brand.

After about half an hour, the small crew started packing up, indicating they were done with the shoot.

At this point, Milo, who had been quietly observing, decided to approach the girl.

“Hello, beautiful miss.”

He walked toward the somewhat curious Catherine Zeta-Jones, who tilted her head slightly to look at him.

“Hello,” she replied softly.

Milo smiled and motioned for his bodyguard, David, to hand him a business card.

The action was smooth, showing that this wasn’t the first time he and his bodyguard had done this.

“I’m Milo Blackburn, owner of Paladin Films. Here’s my business card.”

He handed the card to Catherine Zeta-Jones and continued, “Tonight, I’m hosting a party at 9406 Crest Avenue in the hills. If you’re interested, please come by before 7 PM.”

Seeing her take the card with a reserved but slightly excited expression, he added, “I think your aura would be perfect for the lead role in my company’s new movie. I hope to see you tonight. Goodbye.”

Without waiting for Catherine to respond, he flashed her one more smile, turned, and walked away with his stoic bodyguards.

“Uh, sir...” Catherine Zeta-Jones took a step forward but saw Milo was already getting into the car.

She lowered her voice, “I didn’t even introduce myself, I didn’t get to say my name…”

As the two sports cars roared to life, heading back up the hill, Catherine looked down at the business card in her hand.

It was quite unique—it looked like it was made of gold, with a high-quality diamond embedded in the center.

“Wow! A gold business card?”

At this moment, a middle-aged woman from the crew and several others gathered around.

It was her manager, Anna, who worked for United Talent Agency (UTA).

Catherine Zeta-Jones was one of her clients.

Anna had high hopes for Catherine, helping her find opportunities. Today, the commercial was one of the opportunities Anna had fought for.

“Could this be real? If it’s really gold, and the diamond is real too, this card could be worth a thousand dollars or more.”

The small director who had been so polite earlier walked over, took a look, and muttered.

Anna took the card from Catherine and weighed it in her hand, nodding confidently, “This is definitely real gold, with high purity. The diamond’s real too. Fake diamonds wouldn’t look this beautiful!”

The small director grumbled, “Gold and diamonds for a business card? That’s a bit much. Who is this guy?”

“Paladin Films. Milo Blackburn...”

Anna read off the company name and Milo’s name from the card.

Turning to Catherine, who looked a bit confused, Anna said, “Sweetie, I think this could be a great opportunity!”

Catherine Zeta-Jones, who had been in LA for three years but still couldn’t get a foothold in Hollywood, nodded.

“If this is real, I’ll definitely take the chance,” she said firmly.

*End of Chapter*

*Chapter 9: Pool Party*

The City of Angels shines brightly under the night sky.

Though it doesn't have the same towering, clustered feeling as New York's skyline, the lights on Beverly Hills still announce the city's prosperity.

This is where the world’s largest film industry resides, where dazzling stars are made every year. This is Hollywood.

Every year, countless handsome men and beautiful women flock here seeking their chance.

Americans, and people from around the world, they all yearn to make it big, to become those revered, aloof, or uniquely styled superstars.

As long as they can make a name for themselves, as long as they can establish themselves in this glamorous, indulgent place known as Hollywood, they are willing to give up anything.

Wait, you think they’re here for acting or for a career in film?

Of course, everyone would say that, wouldn’t they?

9406 Crest Avenue.

Inside the mansion.

Milo stepped out of the bedroom, walking across the glass corridor illuminated by floor lights.

Ahead of him was a large pool, bathed in colorful spotlights, filled with the noise of laughter and conversation.

A heavyset man, wearing nothing but colorful shorts like Milo, was standing in front of the pool.

"Hey, let’s go! Let’s have some fun!"

Milo called out to Wendy.

But just as they rounded a corner, the heavyset man smiled and whispered,

"I’ve got good news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?"

Milo’s cheerful steps halted at Wendy’s words.

He raised an eyebrow. "What kind of news? Let’s hear the bad news first."

"I thought you’d want to hear the good news first," Wendy chuckled.

"Spit it out. I’m dying to get out there and show off my 'Big Wood'!"

Seeing Milo so eager, Wendy sighed and said,

"The bad news is, someone might interrupt your pool party later."

"Who?"

Milo frowned.

He’d been looking forward to this pool party all afternoon.

Though his previous self had many memories of these fun parties, every time he thought about them, he couldn't help but get excited.

But this time, Milo was experiencing it firsthand, and he couldn't wait.

"Michael Eisner. He’s coming. His secretary called me and said he wants to meet with you."

The heavyset man looked excited, "I told him you were busy with the party, but he insisted on coming over."

"Michael Eisner?"

Milo frowned, "The CEO of Disney?"

"Yes, the tyrant of Mickey Mouse."

"I don’t think we’re very familiar with each other. I’ve only met him once?"

Milo asked, puzzled. "What does this Hollywood big shot want with me?"

"That’s where the good news comes in," Wendy said, looking pleased.

"Huh?"

"News just came in from Plymouth, straight from Washington."

"Go on."

"Joseph Blackburn, your father, has just been appointed Chairman of the House Broadcasting Committee."

Milo and Wendy were speaking near a mirror.

Milo adjusted his slightly tousled hair as he looked at his reflection. "So, my old man just got promoted?"

"That’s one way to put it."

Wendy couldn’t help but admire Milo’s sculpted muscles, glowing almost like they had their own light, especially his eight-pack abs.

Wendy wasn’t gay, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.

"Your body is just ridiculous. I can’t even figure out how you train…"

Wendy’s jealousy almost burned him up.

"Heh…" Milo said, "But back to business. Is Michael Eisner coming because of my dad’s promotion?"

"Yes."

Wendy nodded toward the pool area, signaling that they could enter, as most of the conversation had already been covered.

"Everyone in Hollywood knows that Disney wants to become a giant."

"Since last year, Michael Eisner has been in talks with ABC."

As they walked toward the pool, Wendy continued,

"But no Hollywood giant has ever owned a major national TV network, so on the legislative front, Disney still has some hurdles to clear."

"Last year’s creation of the Broadcasting Committee was just the last major obstacle Eisner faces."

"I get it now."

Milo grinned at Wendy. "No bad news, just all good news!"

"Haha~"

The heavyset man laughed joyously as he looked at Milo’s strong physique. "Tonight’s little sluts are going to go crazy. I wonder how many of them will be kneeling for you. Go show them your 'Big Wood'!"

The two of them reached the poolside, where they could see David and York standing in a corner, quietly talking.

"Our job is to keep the boss in sight at all times, except when he’s in bed with women," David, the experienced bodyguard, was telling the less experienced York.

"Got it."

York nodded, but inwardly he thought, the gap between the two brothers was huge.

Paladin lived like an ascetic monk.

And his brother, just back from his funeral, was indulging in this kind of lifestyle like Nero.

Milo had no idea that his personal bodyguards were gossiping about him.

Right now, Milo only felt like a king!

Before him, the pool was shimmering in dreamy, colorful lights. The water rippled with a rainbow-like glow.

Around the pool, women in minimal swimsuits strutted about, their bodies illuminated by the lights, adding an alluring glow.

Soft, lazy jazz music filled the air, creating a luxurious atmosphere.

The party hadn’t even started, it wasn’t time to get wild yet.

But the arrival of the main guest immediately drew attention.

A stunning, busty bikini waitress, wearing a bowtie around her neck and black high heels, gracefully walked over, carrying a tray of champagne.

Milo took a sip of champagne, moisturizing his dry lips.

"A drunken feast... like a king!" he murmured to himself.

Beside the pool, there was a long table filled with pastries, fruits, and drinks—typical of a Western-style buffet.

"Wendy, you always make things so easy for me~"

Milo placed the champagne back on the tray, giving a playful squeeze to a bunny girl, causing her to pout in mock anger.

He turned to Wendy and said, "I feel like tonight’s party is even higher quality than before."

Of course, it was better.

Wendy thought to himself, because more money had been spent.

Milo knew this too.

His influence and position within the family had grown much stronger.

He remembered when he used to have a budget of only two million dollars per year.

Two million dollars.

To 99.99999% of the world, that was a huge sum of money.

But for a spoiled rich kid, it was far from enough.

Luckily, Paladin would regularly give him money, and his mother would occasionally send him some too.

He had houses, cars, and yachts ready for him.

Money was never really a problem, and he could even invest in movies or hire female stars.

But it wasn’t exactly luxurious either.

The old Milo could only afford up-and-coming actresses or lesser-known stars.

The big-name actresses who could make their own millions didn’t care about him.

But now, before coming to Los Angeles,

Wendy had told him that his annual living expenses were now five million dollars.

On top of that, he had a $20 million credit line from the First National Bank of Boston.

That money was what his grandfather had promised him after their heart-to-heart talk.

The reason for all of this? Because he was now the only male heir of the Blackburn family’s younger generation.

As his butler, Wendy had money to make things happen.

Of course, the quality of the party had improved as well.

---

(Note: "Wood" in the text refers to a slang term for male arousal, often used humorously or in crude contexts.)

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 10: Hollywood Girls*

Not long after arriving at 9406 Crest Avenue, Zeta-Jones started to regret it.

She hadn’t expected the party to be a pool party.

A pool party, as the name suggests, is one where everyone wears swimsuits or bikinis, and the event is held by the pool or poolside.

In other places, or in glamorous Hollywood movies, a pool party usually means everyone is having fun, cooling off in the summer heat.

But this is Hollywood, this is Beverly Hills.

A pool party here, in some ways, can be seen as exactly that kind of party.

Although many times, the parties in Beverly Hills end up being just like impact parties.

But compared to those more formal parties, pool parties are much more direct.

They almost explicitly tell the guests what kind of event it will be.

If you’re willing to come, it means you’re willing to… well, you know.

Zeta-Jones wasn’t a fresh-faced Hollywood model, nor was she just a pretty face.

She was starting to get a bit of recognition.

She’d come tonight to try her luck, but she hadn’t expected it to be like this right off the bat.

Zeta-Jones thought about leaving immediately.

But when she noticed that only about a dozen people had been invited, and almost all of them were women, with only one handsome guy—apparently the host himself—Zeta hesitated.

She figured since there was only one man, she could blend in with the women and if things got uncomfortable, she’d leave.

Of course, if there was any real opportunity—like landing a role in a big studio production, even if it was a small part—or perhaps starring in a low-budget film as the lead—or even just having a pleasant conversation with the handsome guy—she wouldn’t mind seeing where it led.

After all, this was Hollywood.

If you’re aiming for pure innocence, you might find it in the rural towns of conservative southern states.

But here, red sofas used to be a thing.

With that thought, Zeta-Jones decided not to leave right away.

But she didn’t bring a swimsuit.

Luckily, they had prepared for that.

Everyone else had already dressed and gone out.

She and two other women, who were probably here for the same reason, also didn’t bring swimsuits, so they headed to the changing rooms to get dressed.

While changing, Zeta noticed the other two women were about the same age as her.

She reached out to one of them.

“Hi, Julie. I really loved your performance in Before Sunrise earlier this year. You were amazing!”

The actress, Julie Delpy, was surprised but smiled and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Catherine. I saw May Flowers—I’m really happy to meet you.”

As a British actress, Zeta-Jones had a decent relationship with fellow Brit Kate Beckinsale.

Kate Beckinsale had worked with Charlize Theron on Killing Me Softly last year, so she had a good rapport with Charlize as well.

They were all Europeans, so Zeta and Kate had some knowledge of other European stars, like Julie Delpy, who was French.

Zeta had met her a few times but didn’t know her well. It was natural to network in this situation.

After shaking hands with Julie, they greeted another woman, who introduced herself as Cate Blanchett, from Australia—another non-American.

The three of them changed into swimsuits and started chatting as they did.

Despite the stereotype that Hollywood actresses are easy to sleep with, it’s actually more complicated than that.

Everything has to be clearly understood upfront, much like a business transaction.

It’s not like a sudden, overwhelming attraction that makes them swoon at the sight of you.

Even if you’re a billionaire, it doesn’t matter.

Hollywood doesn’t lack wealthy men, and the rich rarely marry these rising starlets.

The biggest advantage of living in North Hollywood is that it’s full of beautiful girls who are eager for fame and opportunities.

They’re known in the industry as "couch girls."

In other words, when bigshots in Hollywood invite them to their red sofas for a chat, if the conversation goes well, it’s understood they may end up going to bed together—it’s all tacit.

Hollywood is different from those other places where actresses are constantly scheming.

The small circles here tend to be very tight-knit.

Especially before they’ve made it big, they help each other out, even form little support groups.

Soon, the three women exchanged information and learned more about Milo.

They formed an impromptu clique and, being around the same age, were in sync.

“From the East Coast, small movie company, rich guy.”

After putting on their red bikinis adorned with jasmine flower details, Julie Delpy said, “He’s got the resources, but it’s a small operation. So be careful, don’t let him take too much advantage. But if you get a chance, feel free to make a move.”

Zeta-Jones had been in Hollywood for three years.

Cate had only just arrived this year, but she’d started her career in Australia much earlier.

Australia, in many ways, can be seen as Hollywood’s backyard. Its entertainment scene is very similar to LA’s.

Cate Blanchett was familiar with the "market" and the scene.

After Julie’s summary, both Cate and Zeta-Jones nodded in agreement.

The three of them finished changing and headed toward the outside of the changing rooms.

The atmosphere outside was lively, with a lazy jazz tune playing, the sound of women laughing and the occasional chuckles of a man—just one, though.

The three beautiful women exchanged glances, understanding that the party was in full swing.

They kept a low profile, smiling as they made their way through the hallway.

When no one was looking, they slipped into the bustling pool area.

There were already a dozen people in the pool, splashing around.

In the midst of the splashes, they saw the handsome man surrounded by women. He was chatting with a group of them.

Most of the women were young and beautiful, with great bodies—some of them were even models or actresses.

Of course, none of them were big names.

Among them, Julie Delpy and Zeta-Jones, who had starred in smaller productions, could probably be considered the most well-known.

“Let’s swim for a bit, then look for a chance to leave,” Zeta-Jones said, somewhat disappointed.

She could tell that there were no real opportunities tonight.

She quietly said to her two new friends.

Cate nodded, and Julie laughed. “It was nice meeting you both. Want to grab a drink later?”

“Sure,” Zeta-Jones quickly replied. “Let’s go to the Park rooftop bar. I have a membership there!”

The other two women nodded in agreement.

Before, they had only exchanged polite nods. In fact, Cate hadn’t known them at all.

But now, they moved in unison, staying under the radar of the host while still blending into the party.

They kept Milo unaware of their presence, but didn’t seem too distant, either—just enough to avoid displeasing the host.

It was a subtle skill.

After about ten minutes of swimming, some women who couldn’t get close to Milo went back to the edge to grab a drink or use the bathroom.

The three exchanged glances and swam towards the edge.

Just as they neared the shore, they saw a man in big shorts, leading several men in suits into the villa.

(End of Chapter)