Chapter 43: Anthony's Ambition
Unfortunately for José, this wasn't an era obsessed with political correctness.
He couldn't exactly run to court and accuse William of racial discrimination.
So all he could do was glare at him, teeth grinding.
After a long, tense silence—and under William's faintly amused smile—José finally backed down.
"Fine! You've got guts!" he spat. "Just you wait. Starting tomorrow, I'll see which girl still dares set foot in your studio!"
Throwing out that final threat, he barked to his men, "Let's go!"
Then he stormed out with his crew in tow.
---
Even though William had anticipated this confrontation, being threatened in his own office by a gang lieutenant still left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Boss," Sergei murmured, making a subtle throat-slitting gesture.
William shook his head.
"We're legitimate businessmen. Let's not dirty our hands with something so low."
---
Outside, José and his men headed toward the parking lot.
A stray dog was lying lazily by the curb, soaking up the sun.
Seeing the animal so carefree irritated him.
He jogged over and kicked at it, startling it into fleeing.
Watching the dog run off, José finally managed a thin smile.
"That's right! Run back and suck your mother's milk!"
He straightened his jacket, which had shifted from his sudden burst of movement.
"Boss," Anthony said in a low, sinister tone behind him, "should we find a chance to take William out?"
"What the hell did you just say?" José snapped, spinning around and smacking Anthony hard across his bald head.
The slap echoed loudly.
"Kill William? Are you insane? He's white—and he's 'legitimate.' You want to die, Anthony? Or are you trying to set me up so you can take my place?"
José stepped closer, eyes narrowed.
"N-No, boss. That's not what I meant," Anthony quickly denied.
José stared at him for several seconds before finally snorting and climbing into a nearby van.
Anthony exhaled in relief and hurried to the driver's seat.
---
The drive was tense.
José sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. No one dared speak. They all knew he was furious.
Even Anthony, who had just been humiliated.
"Anthony," José finally said, "pass the word. Starting tomorrow, none of the girls are allowed to work at William's place."
"Yes, boss," Anthony replied, nodding as he drove.
Truth be told, he wasn't thrilled about it.
Sure, Nancy had long since been buried—but the girls chasing opportunities in the Valley were desperate climbers. When Anthony controlled access to William's actresses, he'd received plenty of "benefits."
If a girl had even a bit of looks, she'd found ways to curry his favor.
That was a lifestyle he'd never known before.
And giving it up stung.
"Boss… are we still going ahead with our own studio?"
Anthony hesitated before asking. Once you've tasted luxury, it's hard to go back.
José was silent for a few seconds, then turned slowly to look at him.
"What? You think you can run a studio?"
Anthony swallowed hard.
But inside, his ambition flared.
This could be a way out. A way to go legitimate. Or at least look like it.
"I think I can try, boss," he said carefully. "We made a mistake before. We don't need to know how to shoot films ourselves. There are tons of failed directors in Hollywood. We can hire one cheap.
"As for the films—we just copy William's. Remake them shot for shot. Use uglier male leads and prettier female leads.
"And with our 18th Street bootleg operations, we undercut his prices. Start a price war. We can crush that son of a bitch."
The more Anthony spoke, the more excited he became.
José's eyes gradually lit up as well.
He stared at Anthony's bald head for a second—then slapped it again.
"You bastard, you're a damn genius! How did I not see this talent in you before?"
Anthony scratched his bald head sheepishly at José's praise.
"But let's be clear," José added, his tone turning cold again. "Everything you just suggested costs money."
He paused, staring hard at him.
"I don't need to remind you what happened to Ramirez, do I?"
At the mention of Ramirez's fate, Anthony's smile vanished. He drew in a steady breath and nodded.
"Good," José said. "Anthony, you've always been my right-hand man. This time, I expect the same from you. Don't disappoint me."
---
After José left, William headed to the soundstage with a group of newly arrived Soviet veterans.
Coincidentally, today had always been the planned date to give up this particular studio space used for shooting Valley films.
The reason was simple.
The new production facility he and Vivid Entertainment had set up in the Valley was ready.
William intended to relocate the entire adult-film operation there.
And unlike Hollywood proper, the Valley was far more chaotic and mixed. Which meant security would be even more important.
Most of the veterans now standing before him were destined for that location.
"Sergei," William said, "the Valley studio's security is in your hands. Any problems?"
"Mission will be completed, boss," Sergei replied calmly—almost like he was answering a commanding officer.
"Good. From now on, everyone follows Sergei's orders. Assist the crew with moving the equipment."
After assigning tasks, William stepped closer to Sergei.
Standing beside him was a tall, striking woman—built like a tank in heels.
Long dark-brown hair. Sharp Slavic features. A presence that was impossible to ignore.
William raised an eyebrow.
"She's the one replacing you as my personal security?"
Frankly, he wasn't impressed at first glance.
She was stunning—but he wasn't convinced about her combat ability.
"Yes, sir," Sergei said evenly. "Her name is Galina. Former trainee from the Swallow Program. Deserted."
He paused before adding:
"In one-on-one combat, my win rate against her is about sixty percent."
That caught William's attention.
For Sergei—who had proven himself more than once—to admit that?
William gave Galina a longer look this time.
Beautiful was one thing.
Dangerous was another entirely.