[Chapter 662: The Blessing of the People is Actually a Pitfall]
After lounging around on the farm for a few leisurely days, William White had to leave. It was the end of March, and the upcoming Oscars were drawing widespread attention.
The hottest movie, without a doubt, was Jurassic Park. With a global box office of a billion dollars, it had skyrocketed to new heights.
That figure was daunting, and it clearly indicated one thing: audiences loved the film. Regardless of how upset the Hollywood moguls felt, 1991 Hollywood belonged to White Films -- that was an undeniable fact. A billion dollars at the box office was more than many companies made in a year. Seriously, were they still going to be unreasonable about this?
William White couldn't care less about whether it was a blockbuster; he was just trying to manage three feuding women. Nicole, the tall blonde, seemed to be naturally at odds with the petite beauty, Sophie. Within minutes of meeting, they started hurling insults at each other.
As for Nastassja, she enjoyed stirring the pot. Without hesitation, she began fanning the flames of their feud.
"Well, you know, both of your gowns look quite lovely. Even though the colors are the same, the styles are different, right?" William White wanted to suggest that, Nicole, with your striking whiteness, perhaps the black dress would have suited you better. But with those sulky eyes staring back at him, he thought better of it.
Sure enough, no matter what he said, it seemed to be wrong, earning him disapproving looks from both beauties.
Normally, when faced with two jealous women, the perfect solution would be to do it once. If that doesn't work, then do it again.
But alas, it seemed fate hadn't granted him that golden touch. Besides, there was Nastassja, who had already settled on playing the role of the troublemaker. Damn, this is a task that can't be completed even if you eat a ton of oysters.
It appeared that what he had read in books wasn't very reliable. Of course, he understood how... distractions could solve problems. If a battle ensued at the table, it would probably over. But, what if we get stuck in the middle? Damn, if it spiraled out of control, would he still make it to the Oscars the next day?
"Nastassja, you see, you have a good sense of fashion. How about giving some constructive advice?"
"Haha, the omnipotent tycoon seems to be losing control," Nastassja teased, noticing how flustered William had become. In truth, the women were not foolish; if things got too awkward, it would only backfire.
"Nikki, you're so fair-skinned; you should definitely wear the black dress. Do you know why I wore gold? It's because both of you looked too pale. And this jerk actually brought three dates."
William felt a bit sheepish; good Lord, he still had two more back home. He had barely managed to keep them at home for this outing. If they had come too, it would've felt like hell on Earth.
As it turned out, Nastassja stepped in, and the two women didn't blow up. Nicole indeed looked great in black; she certainly knew that herself.
After some temporary calm, William White returned to his steak. Lord, it seemed he had quite a heavy task ahead of him tonight.
In reality, William had been too hard on himself. Unless there were exceptional circumstances, fifteen minutes of high-speed movement was already quite intense.
What? You thought there was an hour's worth? Ahem, those were really not ideal. You should know, that actually had to do with your productivity. If it took you an hour to produce those pies, then it's best to consult a doctor.
William White didn't like the deafening music,, however, it seemed to be the only way to remedy the awkwardness at this point.
Clearly, slipping away wasn't an option unless he planned to leave all three women at the hotel. So, getting himself drunk seemed like a feasible plan.
What? You say to drink the three beauties under the table?
Ahem, when women got drunk, they often turned into a terrifying species. William wasn't very confident about that.
Alcohol had different effects on everyone. Generally speaking, women who could get drunk were often indulging in cocktails like a Long Island Iced Tea. The common thread was that these drinks tended to lead to chaos.
To wear the crown, one must bear the weight. Suddenly, a random phrase popped into William's mind, only adding to his headache.
"Darling, let's dance! If you keep drinking like that, you'll be tipsy in no time." Nastassja winked, suggesting he ease up.
"Dance? Alright, I'll show you my horse dance."
"Horse dance? Are you sure you don't mean breakdancing?"
"Pfft, do I look that old-fashioned? Back in the day, I was the king of the dance floor."
Well, in truth, he wasn't that great. He could manage tango and other Latin dances quite well; disco and street dancing had originated from the grass-roots level.
Despite that, he was the nightclub prince in his previous life. Though he might not have been the best, his moves certainly held their own.
"Sophie, keep an eye on him; don't let him get drunk. We can't carry him if he goes down."
"Hmph, it's always like this. He brings such trouble upon himself; serves him right."
The three ladies understood; throwing a minor tantrum was fine, but it was crucial not to overdo it. Balance was something to be maintained.
...
Today's paparazzi were quite ill-fated; if William White went out to party, they would definitely not be able to mix in. After all, if some unflattering photos spread, it wouldn't be good at all.
"Heading back to Los Angeles?"
"Yes, sir. Just had a call from one of the guys at the night scene."
"Okay, I got it, Andy. Keep an eye on things. By the way, don't mess with those security folks -- those guys can be a hassle."
Andy felt disgruntled, Did I really look that foolish? William's security weren't just anyone; individuals with certain backgrounds in America wouldn't take things lightly.
In fact, he thought his boss had gone mad. These top-tier tycoons were not to be messed with; it was an unwritten rule in the underworld. No seasoned guy would dare to pull a stunt on them.
Those Sicilians had gotten out of control; the grandson of America's former richest man had been kidnapped by them.
Sure, they made some money, but now they could just wait to be dealt with. The Sicilians who thought they could do whatever would soon face their downfall.
Sometimes, there were bottom lines that should not be crossed. If everyone acted like they did, who could stand it? In a place where almost everyone had a gun, such events were rare. The main reason was the presence of those Sicilians; other groups were too terrified to take action.
William White's return to Los Angeles had more motivations than just the Oscars; he wanted to uncover who was pulling the strings behind those black guys. These guys likely had no clue that some among them were already turning traitor.
Those involved in the underworld could sometimes be quite foolish. Some, however, were very aware. In this world, a lot of people were not to be trifled with; William White clearly belonged among them.
The various schemes in the dark of night weren't as secretive as they might hope. Ideas from these imbeciles were soon relayed back to William's people.
Thus, the weakest link in the fortress was indeed its own insides.
The plots from various sides hadn't affected Mr. Tycoon's enjoyment. Ahem, let's call it enjoyment for now. Despite all, it was a mix of pain and joy. All things considered, even with a few bumps in the road, the outcome was fairly satisfactory.
*****
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