"Cut!"
Luke and Bob pushed open the car doors and stepped out of the SUV.
"Is he okay?" Bob asked, still uneasy.
"I kept the speed under control. He's fine," Luke said confidently.
The crash looked simple, but it was meticulously planned by Luke.
He'd positioned himself in front of the Maserati to force the driver to slow down.
Too fast, and the impact could cause injury. Too slow, and it wouldn't be enough to knock Nick out.
The angle had to be just right, too, or the Maserati wouldn't flip.
It was a precision job, only possible with Luke's master-level driving skills.
He walked over to the unconscious Nick, rummaged through his jacket, and pulled out a notebook.
It looked like an ordinary black notebook, palm-sized and unremarkable.
But its contents? Far from ordinary.
Luke flipped through a few pages, then nodded. "This is it. Call an ambulance, and don't forget to notify the cops. Mr. Eisen will handle the cleanup."
"Got it. You better get going before he wakes up," Bob urged.
Luke stuffed the notebook into his backpack and darted toward the roadside.
There weren't many cars around, but he slipped into the bushes to avoid being spotted by any passing vehicles.
After jogging about 400–500 meters through the woods, he reached a black Hummer waiting for him.
Luke hopped in and handed the notebook to the man inside. "Done. Pretty simple, right?"
"This world's just a circus. The simpler and rougher the approach, the better it works," Mr. Eisen said with a nod.
After flipping through the notebook, he added, "This guy's been skimming kickbacks. Once he wakes up and realizes the notebook's gone, he won't dare make a peep. Columbia Pictures would have his head if they found out."
"Nice. Makes our job easier. So, what's the plan for the notebook?" Luke asked.
"First, I'll make sure this 'traffic accident' is handled cleanly—no legal loose ends. Then, in a few days, I'll have a chat with Nick.
I'll let him know I've got his notebook. I'll tell him he played a dirty game, and now he's gotta keep his mouth shut. No matter what we do, he's eating this loss," Mr. Eisen explained.
Luke caught on immediately. "You're gonna use the notebook to flip the judges? And if Nick doesn't want jail time, he'll take the fall."
"Exactly. I won't rub the judges' noses in it too much. We've still gotta work with these people long-term.
I'll just let them know I got the notebook from Nick and drop a hint about the numbers. They'll know what to do," Mr. Eisen said.
Luke nodded. Oscar voting isn't anonymous.
If Columbia Pictures finds out their money didn't sway the judges and they still voted for Luke's film, they'll be livid.
But Nick? He's stuck taking the blame. Otherwise, Mr. Eisen's got enough evidence to send him to prison for embezzlement and bribery.
As for Columbia's wrath? By then, Nick will have skipped town. He's made enough cash over the years to retire somewhere nice. Not a bad deal, all things considered.
"Alright, take me back to the city," Luke said.
"Leave the rest to me," Mr. Eisen replied.
---
Time flew by, and soon it was March 22, 2003.
Los Angeles, Beverly Hills, inside a lavish mansion.
This place used to belong to Mr. Eisen. Back before The Mummy Returns hit theaters, Luke and Director Cohen had stayed here for a while.
(See Chapter 41 for details.)
Recently, Mr. Eisen transferred ownership of the mansion to Luke as part of his company dividends for the year.
Luke, needing a foothold in Hollywood, didn't turn down the gesture.
Now, the mansion was hosting the Hero crew.
Tomorrow was the 75th Academy Awards ceremony.
Hero had scored multiple nominations, so the key cast and crew had flown into Los Angeles for the big day.
Luke welcomed Director Zhang and his team, opting to host them at his Beverly Hills mansion instead of a hotel.
"Director Zhang, hope you don't mind crashing at my place for a few days," Luke said with a grin.
"Are you kidding? This place is incredible—way better than a hotel! Thanks for treating us like family and bringing us here," Director Zhang said, a bit flustered.
Li Renjie stayed quiet. He'd been in the industry for years and had seen plenty of rich folks' homes, but a Beverly Hills mansion was a first.
Owning a place here was his dream.
The problem? The price tags were insane, and without the right status, buying one would just make you look out of place.
Every neighbor would outrank you in clout, and if they didn't even know who you were? Talk about awkward.
Gao Yuanyuan, on the other hand, was visibly nervous.
As a newcomer to the industry, she was far less seasoned than Li Renjie. The sheer opulence of the mansion hit her like a tidal wave of capital.
So this is where Luke lives?
It was like a palace, every inch radiating wealth.
She'd always known there was a huge gap between her and Luke in status, but stepping into this estate made it painfully clear just how vast that divide was.
She'd been chasing his shadow, trying to close the gap, but now it felt like he was farther away than ever.
Director Zhang, Li Renjie, and Gao Yuanyuan all seemed a bit stiff, making the atmosphere a little chilly.
Seeing this, Zhang Ziyu broke the ice with a smile. "Luke, this place is amazing. That courtyard's gotta be, what, 5,000 square meters?"
"6,000, actually," Luke replied.
"Wow, that's huge! Mind if I ask how much it cost?" Zhang Ziyu asked with a grin.
She and Luke were close—practically siblings—so she could ask the questions others might shy away from.
It also sparked a conversation, loosening up the vibe.
"About 60 million bucks," Luke said, giving a conservative estimate.
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