Capítulo 278: Chapter 278: The Messenger
[Chapter 278: The Messenger]
Eric recapped the various happenings of the past few days and his speculations over the phone, while Jeffrey on the other end in New York also realized the gravity of the situation and stated he would return to Los Angeles by tomorrow morning.
After hanging up, Eric found himself seated in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, zoning out. As the sun sank completely below the horizon, the unlit living room dimmed alongside it. The little girl had seemingly disappeared somewhere, and without orders, the servants of the estate would never intrude. Thus, the entire villa felt eerily silent and empty, save for Eric.
He had no idea how much time passed when the intercom in the living room started buzzing. Upon getting up to press the talk button, the voice of the estate security came through: "Mr. Williams, there's someone here named Arnon Carpenter wishing to visit."
Eric replied with confusion, "I don't know anyone by that name. Did he mention the purpose of his visit?"
The security guard responded, "No, but he claims to be 'the messenger.'"
"The messenger," Eric murmured, instantly recalling something important. He said to the guard, "Let him in."
"Understood, Mr. Williams," the guard finished the call.
Eric switched on all the lights in the living room, which quickly became bright as day. After that, he walked toward his study.
Minutes later, a bespectacled Caucasian man entered carrying a black leather bag. He glanced around the luxurious decor of the mansion under the bright lights, making a few low exclamations of admiration. He knew he might never own such a mansion, yet the tasks he intended to carry out today filled him with a distorted sense of pride.
Noticing the absence of Eric in the living room, the man showed no hesitation and walked over to the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling windows, sitting down to patiently await his host while watching the shimmering sea outside.
...
After a while, Eric emerged from the study. Upon seeing the unexpected visitor already settled on the sofa, he slightly furrowed his brow but soon regained his composure as he approached the man.
Hearing the footsteps, the man stood up, not moving from his spot. He waited for Eric to come closer before extending his hand to introduce himself: "Hello, Mr. Williams, I'm Arnon Carpenter."
Eric shook the man's hand but remained silent. As Arnon Carpenter seemed unfazed by his cold demeanor and was about to sit back down, Eric spoke up, "I'm sorry, Mr. Carpenter, but this is my favorite spot. Please take a seat over there."
Arnon Carpenter's expression slightly shifted, but he quickly plastered on a cold smile and nonchalantly stood saying, "As you wish, Mr. Williams."
After taking the spot Arnon vacated, Eric looked across at him and said, "I hear you're 'the messenger,' so why don't you tell me your intent?"
Instead of immediately responding, Arnon opened his leather bag and pulled out a thick stack of photographs, sliding them across the table toward Eric: "Mr. Williams, you might want to take a look at these first."
Eric picked up the hefty stack and saw the first photo was of Drew curled up in his arms like a little kitten, taken a few weeks ago at the Malibu estate, during that incident when she cried about scraping her knee.
Realizing the truth hit him, Eric understood he was indeed being followed. Perhaps his other instincts over these past days had not been mistaken either.
Although he felt a wave of shock, Eric remained composed as he flipped through the subsequent photos. Besides their 'intimate photos,' it included every woman he had ever had contact with over the past year. Some of the shots were so cleverly taken that he needed to think hard to recall the time and place of those moments. The relationships depicted in those photos suggested a certain ambiguity at first glance.
After examining the photos, Eric immediately deduced that Fox was involved, as Rupert Murdoch had previously admitted that a reporter from the New York Post had stalked him for months. Moreover, there were even photos of him with Nicole, yet notably none of him with Elisabeth. If this was orchestrated by other forces, then revealing the connection between the rising director and the media tycoon's daughter would certainly create a bigger stir.
However, Eric was certain that this situation was far from simple. If just the News Corp wanted to use such tactics to force his hand, the outcome would only drive him to align with rivals. Neither Murdoch nor Barry Diller would be that foolish.
As he casually tossed the photographs onto the coffee table, Eric looked up with a cold glare at Arnon Carpenter: "What does this mean?"
Arnon Carpenter slightly flinched at Eric's icy stare and replied, "Mr. Williams, this is you pretending not to know."
Eric spoke in a calm yet firm voice, "Do you really think these petty tricks can affect me?"
Arnon Carpenter said, "Whether they can or cannot depends on whether my boss is willing. Mr. Williams, you must understand that many high-profile figures in Hollywood have disappeared like shooting stars because of one or two seemingly insignificant scandals. Care for me to list a few?"
Eric replied sternly, "The women in those photos and I were consenting adults. If they get exposed, the most I'd be seen as is a playboy. Hollywood has plenty of those."
Arnon Carpenter sat up straight, a mocking smile on his face, "Mr. Williams, the 'public' you speak of is the most ignorant group. How they perceive you will hinge on what the media controlling their narrative wants them to see. And the one sending me as a messenger happens to control a large fraction of the media in North America. So these photos could tarnish your reputation. And this is just the start; after the small troubles, much larger ones will follow."
Hearing Arnon deliver such a statement, a flicker of unease crossed Eric's eyes, but he quickly disguised it and said with an edge of anger, "Mr. Carpenter, can you tell me who your boss or bosses are?"
Seeing that Eric was finally provoked, Arnon Carpenter gleefully remarked, "Mr. Williams, you're too clever not to guess."
"All right," Eric continued, "then tell me what their conditions are."
"Forty percent of Firefly Films' shares," Arnon Carpenter fluently stated as if reciting a line, then added, "You see, Mr. Williams, the boss who sent me to relay this is not greedy at all. He's willing to relinquish 40% of Firefly shares, meaning you'd still be the largest shareholder. However, if you refuse, by the time everything is set in motion, the cost to make my boss back off will be far greater."
Eric scoffed softly. Forty percent did seem reasonable, but losing that share alongside the three percent he had just transferred to Jeffrey would leave him with only forty-two percent. Though he would still be the largest shareholder, he would no longer hold absolute control.
Robert Shea, while not particularly talented, had always been a power-hungry individual. If those people gained forty percent of the shares and promised Robert Shea what he desired, Eric was certain Robert would side with them. At that point, Eric would lose control of Firefly.
After merging with New Line, Firefly had begun shaping into a real contender in the industry. Losing control would make it exceedingly difficult for him to develop a new film company that could compete with the major studios, especially with the upcoming wave of consolidation in the 1990s. Faced with media giants, Eric would find himself increasingly marginalized, regardless of his successes as a filmmaker.
Realizing this, Eric felt no desire to play games with this stranger and directly delivered the dismissal, "Mr. Carpenter, you can tell your boss that if he wants to take Firefly, come and try. See if he can actually manage to do it."
Arnon Carpenter's expression grew smug as he responded, "Mr. Williams, my boss anticipated that you'd be hot-headed enough to directly refuse this offer. So he sent me to inform you that you have one more day to think it over. Calm down and reconsider. After all, this mansion is quite lavish, and maintaining it must cost no less than a million dollars a year, right?"
Eric seemed to ignore Arnon's remarks, pointing towards the front door and saying, "Mr. Carpenter, having a stranger like you show up here makes me very uncomfortable, so please leave immediately. I might lose control and have security toss you into the sea. Remember, this is private property, and I have every right to do that."
*****
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