章 316: Chapter 317: Decision
[Chapter 317: The Little Vase]
After breakfast, Eric took Famke Janssen outside to the estate, where a red and white Bell helicopter had already landed on the helipad.
The helicopter pilot noticed Eric and quickly jumped down from the helicopter, walking toward the two of them. He was a tall white man, nearly six and a half feet, with a light stubble on his face, sharp eyes, and a demeanor that suggested he might have been in the military.
"Hello, Mr. Williams, I'm Mark Biermann," the tall man introduced himself in front of Eric and Famke Janssen.
"Hello, Mr. Biermann," Eric said as they shook hands. "I suppose you're aware of your mission?"
"Of course," Mark Biermann nodded, then turned to Famke Janssen. "Miss Janssen, please follow me."
"Eric, I still feel..." The lady looked at the helicopter and turned back to Eric, hesitating.
Eric wrapped his arm around her and kissed her cheek. "All right, Famke, this is nothing. You'll get used to it in no time."
"Miss Janssen, are you worried about motion sickness? You can relax, it's only a ten-minute flight to Calabasas. It'll be quick."
With Mark Biermann speaking, Famke Janssen had nothing more to say. Anything else would surely embarrass Eric. Before long, the lady boarded the helicopter.
Eric stepped back a bit and waved at her as the helicopter lifted off. He watched it gradually fade, becoming a small white dot against the sky, while he pondered the idea of hiring a dedicated helicopter team. It could save a lot of time commuting to and from the city.
Furthermore, helicopters were much cheaper than private jets. The cost of one helicopter was equivalent to that of a luxury car. Even with a team for piloting and maintenance, it wouldn't break the bank. Plus, it would help protect his privacy, as it was not realistic for paparazzi to chase a helicopter.
...
Back at the villa, Eric walked over to the space chair where he and Famke had spent the night. He noticed remnants of a rose-red silk dress scattered around, clearly the 'ruins' of that expensive evening gown last night. After casually picking up the stray fabric and tossing it into the trash, he sat down in the chair, gazing out the window, reflecting on the previous day's events.
Now that he had made certain decisions, Eric wasn't planning to change his mind. In the past, he had often been domineering with women, telling them, "You're my woman," but if they insisted on leaving, he never stopped them. Faced with two lives, he had always been laid-back about many things. However, he had now resolved to no longer let it happen.
Eric was determined to gather the women he liked around him. This was not a delusion; he could give them everything they desired. Whether in material wealth or fame, was it not true that women entering Hollywood primarily sought fame and fortune?
Thus, if he provided them what they wanted, they must offer him what he desired in return. It was a fair exchange. Naturally, all of this was predicated on having the strength to back it up. When Eric gained enough power in Hollywood, those women who took what they wanted but refused to give back would need to seriously weigh the consequences.
Famke Janssen was his first target in this plan. After spending most of the day together, Eric had somewhat grasped her character -- proud, independent, and somewhat feminist -- but deep down, Famke craved the glamour and excess of Hollywood. This explained why she hadn't refused Eric's offer of Beverly property over breakfast.
Without Eric, it might have taken her a long time to get such opportunities. In her past life, Famke had largely stayed in the ranks of minor Hollywood actors. Though she had appeared as Jean Grey in the X-Men series, compared to Halle Berry's Storm -- a far more significant role -- Famke was like a small trophy, barely noticeable. Ultimately, she had ended up like many struggling stars in Hollywood, shifting to TV crime dramas.
Now, though, with Eric's arrangement, Famke had secured the lead role in The X-Files, which would certainly enhance her image. If Eric were willing, transitioning her to the big screen would be straightforward, even allowing her to juggle roles in both film and television.
Of course, all of this would come with certain prerequisites.
After pondering for a moment, Eric smiled and stood up.
It was time to handle the other woman's situation.
...
Jennifer Connelly woke up early, pulling the blanket over her and staring confusedly at the bedroom. She felt a dull headache from what seemed like a hangover.
As a woman, she quickly realized that this was clearly a young woman's room, and there was no sign of any disturbance. That discovery let her breathe a sigh of relief.
Her mind was filled with vague memories, making it difficult to recall exactly what had happened the previous night. All she remembered was feeling somewhat sad and drinking a lot of alcohol until she was quite drunk.
Then, nothing. She woke up to find herself here.
As the weak morning light began to brighten the room, the sunlight pushed through the curtains, filling the space. Just as she was getting her bearings, the door swung open. She quickly wrapped herself in the blanket and anxiously looked towards the entrance.
A girl entered, wearing a dark blue long-sleeve t-shirt and jeans. Upon seeing Jennifer wide-eyed, she smiled, revealing her two front teeth. "Miss Connelly, you're awake?"
Jennifer Connelly vaguely remembered that this girl must be Sofia Coppola, Francis Ford Coppola's daughter, whom she had seen when she arrived at the party last night.
"Hello, Miss Coppola, may I ask, where is this...?"
"This is my house! You got drunk last night, and Eric let you sleep here."
Eric, Eric Williams.
She quickly recalled the spirited young man she had seen from afar. Hearing Sofia's words, Jennifer suddenly felt a sense of grievance welling up within her, and tears began to sting her eyes.
"What's wrong? Are you still feeling bad? You really drank a lot last night. If it weren't for Eric, you might have..." Seeing the lady's eyes welling up with tears, Sofia asked concernedly, quickly deciding to change the subject.
"I'm fine," Jennifer Connelly shook her head. After hesitating for a moment, she asked, "What about... him?"
"Him? Oh, you mean Eric? He left," Sofia Coppola answered.
Jennifer shrank back beneath the blanket, unable to suppress the wave of disappointment washing over her.
Sofia chatted for a bit longer, pulling a small stool from the dressing table and sitting beside the bed, curiously asking, "So, Jennifer, what's going on between you and Eric? He was really angry for you last night, almost getting into a fight with that guy who brought you. It's clear he really likes you. But he said he hadn't seen you in a year?"
Hearing that, Jennifer Connelly froze for a moment, but only shook her head and didn't respond. She truly didn't know how to answer.
Seeing she was unwilling to talk, Sofia pressed on. "By the way, when he left last night, he dug out your address book and called a Jim Lester, asking him to meet him at ten in the morning. Jim Lester is your agent, right?"
Jennifer blinked in surprise, softly affirming, while a faint spark of hope flickered in her heart -- not for her acting career, but because the guy still seemed to be keeping an eye on her.
While Sofia Coppola continued chattering, a maid knocked on the bedroom door and said, "Miss, it's time for breakfast."
"Oh, we're coming!" Sofia replied, then turned to Jennifer Connelly. "Come on, let's head to the dining room."
...
Ten minutes later, Sofia led the freshly washed-up Jennifer Connelly to the dining room downstairs, where several people were already seated -- the Coppola couple, Sofia's brother Roman Coppola, and Nicholas Cage, who hadn't left after last night's festivities.
Seeing his daughter walk in with Jennifer Connelly, Francis Ford Coppola greeted warmly, "Good morning, Miss Connelly. Did you rest well last night?"
"Very well, thank you for asking, Mr. Coppola," Jennifer said, feeling somewhat awkward, as she nodded to the others at the table.
During their brief conversation last night, Francis had eyed her like a beautiful trophy, but now his tone was that of a kind elder, leaving her somewhat flustered. As she pondered her next move, Sofia had already pulled her to sit at the table, and the maid efficiently served them breakfast.
"So, Sofia, are you really going to listen to that guy and not play the role of Mary Corleone?" Francis asked once both women were seated, quickly shifting the topic to his daughter.
Sharply hearing this, Jennifer perked up her ears. She sensed that the 'guy' Francis referred to was Eric Williams, which Sofia soon confirmed.
"I think Eric has a point. I have no experience in acting, and I don't want to ruin Dad's hard work because of my inexperience."
*****
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