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"Didn't you tell your brother that I'd protect you?" Leon blew on the steam rising from his porcelain bowl. "Nobody would dare mess with you while I'm around."
A blush crept up Anya's cheeks.
For a sixteen-year-old girl, there was little resistance against the testosterone released by a powerful man. This is exactly why thugs can always easily capture a young girl's heart; naive girls mistake the wrong signals for masculinity.
They don't understand what a real man is at all.
"I told my mom you take care of me like family, like my big brother here in America." Anya's eyes twinkled, as if she suddenly remembered something. "When I went back to London this time, it seemed like everyone looked at me differently. No one expected I could actually become an actress..."
Anya's school life hadn't been all that wonderful. Her strange Spanish accent and mixed heritage meant she suffered plenty of bullying during her time at Queen's Gate School.
Bullying in elite schools is different from public schools; you rarely see physical fights with slapping and cursing. But girls forming cliques to surround her with mean-spirited verbal abuse every day was just as unbearable.
After returning to the UK for this Christmas holiday, Anya found that all the noise around her had vanished. Those girls who used to gang up to bully her threw a welcome party for her like she was a queen. Everyone took pride in having her contact info.
They would show off their phones to everyone they knew—"Look! I have a Hollywood star's number in my phone!"
"They asked me if I could bring them some of your signed records next time I come back," Anya said.
"So you agreed?"
"Mhm!" Anya blinked her big, deer-like eyes.
"Alright..." Leon held his forehead, not knowing what to say.
A few signed records were nothing to him, but Anya's naivety gave him a headache. Those girls who had almost bullied her into dropping out showed a little kindness because they envied her celebrity halo, and this silly girl mistook it for friendship.
"They used to be mean, but thinking back, maybe they were just joking?" Anya said.
"Every joke has a grain of truth." Leon put down his teacup, putting on a serious act. "Learning not to forgive is also a sign of growing up. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Mhm..."
Anya had rarely seen her boss this serious. Her mind went blank, and she just nodded vacantly.
Looks like this girl still has a lot to learn...
---
Two hours later, Leon, Bonnie, and Jorge departed from JFK International Airport, heading for Los Angeles.
Jeff had organized a grand banquet, inviting hundreds of AMPAS (Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences) members and film industry professionals.
It was publicly organized in Leon's name, but it relied entirely on the influence of this Warner Bros. President.
With less than two weeks until the Oscar nominations were announced, thousands of AMPAS members held a "Qualified Film List" in their hands. These old white men would use their film taste to decide who could compete for the highest honor in the film industry.
It wasn't so much a competition of film quality as it was a contest of social maneuvering. Many AMPAS members cast votes for their friends' works without even knowing what the movies were about.
Leon brought Anya along to get her face known among the industry bigwigs and to give her a basic understanding of Hollywood's hypocrisy.
A sixteen-year-old newcomer who had just entered the industry would naturally be nervous attending such a star-studded gathering for the first time.
The British girl spent the whole trip applying and re-applying makeup in the mirror, ensuring every detail on her face was perfect.
"Will Miss Emma Watson and Mr. Daniel Craig really be attending?" Anya chanted the names of two stars who were household names in the UK.
"They're on the invitation list, so barring any accidents, they should be." The mention of that name brought an indescribable repulsion to Leon. He frowned and said, "It won't be long before you're as famous as Emma. She just happened to get picked for the Harry Potter cast and got the role of Hermione."
---
After the plane landed, Leon settled Anya and Bonnie at the Beverly Hills Hotel, where the banquet would be held tomorrow night. He then returned to his mansion in Beverly Hills.
Just as he had filled the bathtub with hot water, the phone rang urgently.
"That damn fool Little Von caused trouble again..." Phil was so angry he was incoherent, punctuating every other word with profanity.
While they were flying to Los Angeles, King Von had gotten into a brawl with a group of Atlanta rappers at a nightclub in Brooklyn.
This time, Von hadn't carried a gun, but he still taught them a lesson, stabbing one in the butt with a broken bottle.
"Calm down. Call Luca. I don't have time to deal with this right now."
Leon leisurely opened a bottle of red wine, his expression unchanging.
King Von was like a honey badger with an overdose of adrenaline; he was either causing trouble or on his way to cause trouble.
Leon was used to it. As long as no shots were fired, it was manageable. Stabbing a thug in the ass was a minor issue usually solved with a few thousand dollars in bail and settlement money.
With the money Von had made from Panda's commercial performances and record sales recently—nearly a million dollars—he could handle the compensation himself.
"The group he beat up is Migos, a rap group from Atlanta. Those kids run with Drake. They were badmouthing you in the club bathroom, and Von heard them."
"Is that so? Then I think Von did the right thing." Leon grinned while sipping wine in the tub.
The rap game relies on "beef" to generate hype. Von beat up a group of rappers with some fame, so that settlement money was well worth it.
He'd get exposure without spending a dime on marketing.
"What are you talking about? Do you know what that kid did in the Brooklyn detention center?" Phil yelled. "He made another suspect unlock his handcuffs, then attacked a gang member in the cell who mouthed off to him..."
"He almost strangled that bastard to death right in front of the police!"
Privately undoing handcuffs could be ruled as an escape attempt, and choking another inmate was serious. It all depended on how the judge viewed it.
This was much more complicated.
"Hand it to Luca. He can handle it."
"Listen, you can't keep indulging this kid!" Phil said. "I've seen plenty of talented guys who had everything at twenty, only to end up dead on the street... And those Migos kids from Atlanta aren't cowards either."
"I got it." Leon hung up before he could finish.
When he signed Von, he knew how it would end—either prison or hell.
Back then, he didn't feel he'd lose much if the guy died; death gives an artist a legendary status.
He had even shamelessly considered releasing commemorative albums on the anniversary of his death to cash in.
But as they spent more time together, especially in Chicago when Von risked taking a bullet for him, those cynical thoughts had worn down.
There were some good guys in the hood after all.
---
At 4:00 PM the next day, Leon arrived early at the Beverly Hills Hotel as the host.
The banquet hall decorations and the red carpet were ready.
A dark crowd of reporters gathered at the entrance. Anya stood beside Leon in a long white dress. Facing the cameras, she acted very naturally.
The dress revealed her fair skin, and paired with high heels, white earrings, and her exquisite, elegant face, she instantly grabbed the reporters' attention.
The mysterious girl chosen by "Street Jesus" finally showed her face in public. Everyone was discussing Anya's name.
After the red carpet, the host had to give a speech.
Following the usual celebrity social playbook, the theme was charity—specifically, focusing on education for black youth.
The big screen in the center of the hall played clips and behind-the-scenes footage of Straight Outta Compton on a loop to impress the AMPAS voters.
The speech duty was pushed onto Jeff. Having survived in the film industry for thirty years, this was a breeze for him.
Whether it was anti-war, feminism, environmental protection, or racial issues, he could give a speech on any topic without a script.
This skill was carved into Jeff's DNA.
Leon suspected this guy could even spout lines like "Make love, not war" while rolling in the sheets.
After the opening speech, Leon took Anya to greet the guests, exchanging flattery and toasts.
When many of the old white men heard Anya was only sixteen, a strange light flickered in their eyes.
Leon whispered to Anya, "Don't take these old bastards too seriously. Keep your distance!"
Just as they were whispering, the heavyweights of the banquet, the couple Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, walked toward them with wine glasses.
"Hello, Leon. I often mention your name to Pitt. We finally meet." Jolie raised her glass, her full lips catching the eye. "Thank you for your outstanding contribution to the black community."
"It's an honor to meet you."
They clinked glasses politely and took a sip of red wine.
"I don't see Taylor? Your photos from the Times Square New Year's Eve were simply amazing," Jolie said, looking at Pitt with a gaze that seemed to hint at something. "That is the ultimate romance for a woman."
Leon picked up on the conversation. "Taylor is right here."
"What?"
Jolie looked left and right, then exchanged a glance with Pitt.
Leon held Anya's hand and introduced her with a wicked grin, "This is the little Miss Taylor—Anya Taylor-Joy."