Chapter 41 – A Miscalculated Move That Backfires
"After all, if we're inviting you, Mr. Blake, to dinner, we can't possibly show too much sincerity, can we?"
Catherine rested her chin lightly on one hand and smiled at William, her gaze soft and deliberate.
Truth be told, for her role as the heroine's best friend in Before I Go to Sleep, William had only paid her $10,000.
Not a penny more, not a penny less.
Catherine didn't mind.
To her, this was just the beginning. Once she carved out a place for herself in Hollywood, both fame and fortune would follow naturally.
She wasn't concerned with short-term pay.
In fact, for a relatively inexperienced newcomer like her, ten thousand dollars was already generous.
Unlike Nicole Kidman, Catherine didn't come from privilege. She knew what opportunity looked like—and she wasn't about to squander one.
Hearing the almost unmistakable implication in Catherine's words, William quietly shook his head.
Soon after he sat down, a waiter approached to take their order.
Ironically, this dinner was being paid for with the very salary William had given her.
Halfway through the meal, after a few glasses of red wine had loosened the mood, Catherine finally brought up the real reason for tonight.
"Director… do you have any new projects coming up? Jennifer has dreamed of Hollywood just like I have. If possible, could you give her a chance? She's willing to give everything for it."
Jennifer, suddenly thrust into the spotlight, sat up straight, visibly tense as she looked at William.
Meanwhile, William studied them both.
Catherine had laid the bait on the table.
Was he tempted?
Yes.
But not overwhelmingly so.
At this stage, his focus was far more on his film career than on what happened in the bedroom.
"I'm sorry," he said calmly. "There won't be any major projects this year. But if something comes up, I'll let you know immediately."
He didn't shut the door entirely.
After all, once this year passed—once the Nikkei Index collapsed as he anticipated—he would have the capital to operate on multiple fronts.
When that time came, he could easily recruit future greats before they made their names.
Quentin Tarantino.
Christopher Nolan.
Tim Burton.
Why not bring them under his umbrella studio before the rest of Hollywood caught on?
Opportunity, after all, favored the prepared.
That way, there would be even more roles to fill.
And if the other party was willing—well, why refuse what was freely offered?
After hearing William's response, both Catherine and Jennifer were somewhat disappointed, though neither was truly surprised. They had prepared themselves for this outcome.
In Hollywood, there were simply too many beautiful women hoping to climb the ladder.
In the end, it all came down to timing and opportunity.
After dinner, William said goodbye and had Sergei drive him back to Santa Monica.
Watching the taillights of his car fade into the distance, Jennifer sighed.
"Catherine… do you think I don't stand a chance? Maybe I should just give up."
"What are you talking about?" Catherine immediately cut her off. "If you give up, then what? Spend the rest of your life washing dishes for fifteen dollars an hour?"
"You're young. There will be opportunities. We can't lose heart."
Catherine absolutely refused to let Jennifer retreat. In Hollywood's brutal environment, a reliable ally was sometimes harder to find than opportunity itself.
"That's easy for you to say," Jennifer muttered. "You've already been on screen. What about me? I haven't even had a chance to show my face."
She was clearly unhappy.
Catherine could only coax her gently.
---
Meanwhile, back at the Santa Monica apartment—
When William opened the door, he saw Katya sitting alone on the couch in the dark.
"That's rare. Since when do you smoke?" he asked, surprised at the cigarette between her fingers.
They'd lived together for a while now, and this was the first time he'd seen her smoke.
"It's nothing," Katya said quietly. "Just something irritating."
In the darkness, she avoided his gaze.
The irritation, of course, had everything to do with him.
After reviewing Umbrella's financial data, she had fully recognized the studio's potential. It was a stage where she could truly shine.
Then came the incident—William casually handing over 34% of the new company's shares to an actress he was sleeping with.
She kept telling herself she was only concerned because she didn't want William to stumble over a woman and ruin everything.
Whether that was the whole truth… only she knew.
William merely shrugged at her cool tone and returned to his room.
---
The next day.
On set.
Nicole Kidman sat on the large bed in the interior scene, waiting for William to take his position.
Today's scene was intense—a nearly violent sex scene.
In Before I Go to Sleep, Christine engaged with Ben in a state of reluctance—half-resisting, half-yielding, almost fearful. And Ben himself carried a streak of barely concealed brutality.
It was a demanding scene, one that would test Nicole's acting ability.
Soon, William was in place.
"Action!" the assistant director called.
They began.
William stepped up behind Nicole, who was dressed in a robe, and wrapped his arms around her in a nervous, possessive embrace. He pressed his cheek into her hair, inhaling slowly.
The moment he touched her, Nicole's body trembled.
Her face showed resistance—confusion—conflict.
Part of her seemed to want to respond to him. Another part recoiled, even afraid.
The assistant director and several crew members were stunned.
This performance—it was award-level.
They didn't know about Nicole's inner turmoil ever since William had offered her 34% ownership.
They assumed this was acting.
They had no idea how much of it was real.
William, with near-microscopic control over his muscles, perfectly embodied Ben's latent pathology—the kind of darkness hidden deep beneath the surface.
And he, too, noticed something.
Nicole's reaction… didn't feel performed.
It felt real.
As the scene progressed—
"CUT!"
The assistant director's voice rang out.
The take ended.
Almost the entire crew broke into applause.
There was no denying it—both William and Nicole had delivered extraordinary performances.
In an era when Hollywood hadn't yet become obsessed with technical acting refinement, only films chasing prestigious awards displayed this level of intensity.
For many filmmakers of this time, cinema was still about artistic pursuit.
Yes, companies aimed for profit and ideology.
But the people executing the work—many of them still carried something pure inside.
Even if the industry stained their actions, it couldn't erase their longing for art.