Chapter 57: Mariah vs. Nicole Kidman (Please Keep Reading)
She cursed with satisfying ferocity, her chest rising and falling sharply.
"Yekaterina…"
William spoke unhurriedly—this time in fluent, low, magnetic Russian.
"In case you've forgotten, I should remind you that I not only understand every word you just said… I can debate philosophy with you in Russian if I want to.
Cursing your boss to his face? That's hardly a promising sign for a raise."
Katya froze mid-breath.
For a moment, she simply stared at him.
A slow, dangerous smile curved William's lips. He leaned forward slightly, the air between them tightening with pressure.
"Between 'Katyusha' and something else," he continued smoothly, "I'd much rather hear you kneel in front of me and sing 'Conquest.'"
He paused deliberately.
"Oh—that song hasn't been released yet. The lyrics describe what it feels like when someone is utterly broken… body and soul… completely dominated."
His gaze locked onto hers.
"Care to hear it?"
The precision of his Russian—paired with those deliberately provocative words—set her face ablaze. Color rushed from her collarbone to the tips of her ears.
"Damn it… how did I forget that…"
She smacked her own forehead lightly, suddenly avoiding his eyes.
In Russian blood ran a cultural instinct—an admiration for strength. For dominance. For men powerful enough to shake the world.
And at this moment, William's gambler's madness—combined with his chilling certainty—hit exactly where she was most vulnerable.
Completely conquered?
Her pulse skipped. Heat climbed her spine.
The Tokyo Exchange's volatility had unsettled her.
But-
This man unsettled her more.
"I—you—ugh! I'm done talking to you! Goodbye!"
Like a startled rabbit, Katya fled the office.
William watched her retreat, lips tilting upward.
"Heh. Trying to outplay me."
Shaking his head lightly, he returned to refining the sheet music for Mariah's "All I Want for Christmas Is You." He made final adjustments so that once she received it, she could walk straight into a studio and record without hesitation.
---
Three days later.
Inside a private screening room with impeccable sound insulation, the final mix of music, effects, and picture slid seamlessly into place.
With one last smooth synchronization, the first completed cut of Before I Go to Sleep was born.
As the projector's beam pierced the darkness, William leaned back in his seat, expression calm.
He knew perfectly well—this would not be a box-office slaughter machine.
But that was never the point.
This film was a battering ram.
And Hollywood's gates were about to feel its weight.
A weapon heavy enough to smash through Hollywood's hypocritical and unforgiving threshold—
a battering ram that would carry him into the ranks of true A-list directors.
The logic of "breaking into the circle" had never changed.
The noise from outsiders—the cheers, the criticism, the praise—meant little to capital beyond being quantifiable data.
William had spent decades in his previous life navigating the machinery of fame and power. He understood the unspoken rule:
Truth in this industry was never defined by personal perception.
It was the result of competing forces reaching a temporary equilibrium.
Trying to please everyone was foolish.
Far better to precisely strike the circle that controlled the narrative.
---
"You remembered to invite me to the screening this time? I'm impressed."
The quiet in the theater was broken by Mariah Carey, who tilted her head slightly toward William, her tone playful.
"Last time you forgot. I complained all the way home. Your ears must've grown calluses."
William instantly shed his brooding expression.
"How could I dare repeat that mistake? Even if the sky fell tonight, I'd still reserve the best seat in the house for you."
Mariah gave a satisfied little hum, the corner of her lips lifting.
After a pause, William added casually, "Don't leave after the screening. Remember the gift I mentioned?"
At the word gift, her eyes lit up.
"Oh? The mysterious thank-you present?" She adjusted her posture, radiating effortless confidence. "If you've been hyping it up for days, it had better be worthy of me. Otherwise I'll be very disappointed."
Her tone was teasing, intimate in the way only close friends could be. She leaned slightly toward him, naturally closing the distance.
---
On William's left sat Nicole Kidman.
Though her gaze appeared fixed on the still-dark screen, her attention was sharply tuned to every word exchanged to her right.
When she heard "gift," something inside her tightened.
She knew William.
She knew his charm.
On the surface, Mariah and William looked like two kindred spirits discussing art and collaboration.
But Nicole's instincts told her something else:
Give it time.
Add a spark.
And something far more combustible would ignite.
She was never naïve enough to expect a man as ambitious as William to belong to only one woman.
But sitting here—watching him share private jokes and "mysterious gifts" with someone else in plain sight—
That was different.
The jealousy rose quietly, like sour wine spreading through her chest.
"And what are you two whispering about so enthusiastically?"
Nicole finally leaned forward, her golden hair brushing lightly against William's shoulder—a subtle but deliberate territorial gesture.
A refined smile curved her lips, but her blue eyes were sharp.
"What gift? Why don't you let me in on it too? I'd love something to look forward to."
The tone was light. The undertone was not.
Mariah's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
In an industry built on subtext, she missed nothing.
One glance at Nicole's body language.
One glance at William's composed expression.
That was enough.
She saw it—the intimacy between them. The kind that carried warmth and shared breath.
"Oh, I don't even know what it is yet," Mariah replied lazily, leaning back and folding her hands. Her smile was polite… and just distant enough.
"He promised it to me personally a few days ago. Said it was to 'thank me' for my tremendous contribution to his film."
She paused, letting the words hang lightly in the air.
"I haven't seen it yet. But he sounded very certain. So I suppose I'll allow myself to be… cautiously excited."