Chapter 589: Brad pitt Sex Tape

Me and Brad Pitt?

Georgina Chapman was momentarily stunned, unable to understand what Harvey meant.

"Ha! Got nothing to say now, huh? Sure, I cheated on you—but you cheated on me too! We're both guilty. Don't think you can take a single penny from me in court!" Harvey snapped.

Georgina was furious."Harvey, what are you talking about? I have absolutely nothing to do with Brad Pitt! You're slandering me!"

"Slander? Heh. I have evidence."

"Then go ahead and show your so-called evidence. I'll sue you into bankruptcy!"

Click.Georgina hung up the phone.

Harvey immediately dialed Eric's number.

"What is it, you want to buy another videotape?" Eric asked, catching on instantly.

He knew it had to be related to the recent video scandal—Harvey's current wife must've caused trouble, and now Harvey wanted to use the tape to fight back.

Well, it was time to hit him where it hurt.

At that moment, Eric was secretly relieved he hadn't handed the tape over to the newspapers yet.

"What?! Five million? Are you out of your damn mind?" Harvey roared.

Eric was still in his room at the Four Seasons Hotel. He calmly patted the bag beside him, which contained the tapes.

"There are three tapes here," Eric said. "Plus, my partner brought more. Three copies and one master—seven tapes in total. At five million, that's only about seven hundred thousand per tape. Not a bad deal."

"Bullshit! That's impossible. I'll give you five hundred thousand—take it or leave it!" Harvey snarled, trying to slash the price by 90%.

Eric's face darkened. He stood up with his bag, prepared to walk out.

"Well, Mr. Weinstein," he said coldly, "if you're unwilling to pay, there's no point continuing. I'm sure your wife's alimony demands will be very satisfying. Fifty million? Or maybe five million per year?"

Harvey's expression shifted. He grabbed Eric's arm and forced a smile.

"Whoa, whoa, no need to rush. Let's talk this through."

Eric sat back down, now confident.

"Mr. Weinstein, five million is nothing to you. With this tape, you'll finally get rid of your wife. Compared to alimony, five million is a bargain."

Harvey took a seat beside him. Although he wanted to strangle the man, he had no choice but to act cordial. He slung an arm around Eric's shoulders and said with a strained smile:

"Buddy, five million is still a lot. I can't produce that much immediately. How about this—I'll give you three million now, and the remaining two million in two installments within a year. How's that?"

Eric thought it over. Pushing too hard might backfire, and three million was already a solid haul. He nodded in agreement.

Harvey immediately transferred 1.5 million to Eric, then Eric called his partner upstairs to hand over the rest of the tapes.

Harvey inserted the tapes into a player, confirmed their content, and transferred the remaining 1.5 million. He also signed an IOU for the remaining two million.

As for how Eric and his group divided the money—that's another story.

Harvey, now armed with the tapes, wasted no time calling Georgina.

"You bitch! I've got proof of your affair with Brad Pitt. If you agree to an unconditional divorce, I won't release it. Otherwise—ha! I'll make sure your little scandal becomes public."

On the other end, Georgina was enraged. This old bastard had the nerve to fabricate lies and threaten her with them? Utterly shameless.

"Harvey, have you lost your mind? I've got nothing to do with Brad Pitt! If you're dreaming of alimony, forget it!"

"Fine, Georgina. You brought this on yourself."

Harvey hung up furiously, grabbed one of the videotapes, and stormed out.

NBC Headquarters

Ronald Meyer, Executive Vice President of Communications, Global Advertising, and Partnerships at NBC, arrived at the media center holding the tape Harvey had given him.

He owed Harvey a favor. When the man came to him with "evidence," Ronald reluctantly agreed to help out.

Besides—Georgina Chapman cheating on Brad Pitt? That was newsworthy in itself!

"Benarroc, check this tape. If it's good, it goes live in tonight's 8 p.m. news cycle."

Meanwhile, in a suite on the 12th floor of the Kempinski Hotel, Martin was enjoying his lunch when he suddenly snapped his fingers, remembering something.

Back at NBC, Benarroc inserted the tape into the VCR and hit play.

After just a few seconds, he sat up straighter, eyes glued to the screen.

More than an hour later, Benarroc knocked on Ronald Meyer's office door.

"Man, this tape is gold. We've got a huge story tonight. Brad Pitt actually filmed himself sleeping with a maid! You think maybe the maid didn't get a big enough breakup bonus and leaked the tape?"

Ronald blinked in disbelief.

"What? A maid? Wasn't this supposed to be Brad Pitt cheating with Georgina Chapman?"

Benarroc froze.

Now that he thought about it… the woman on the tape was wearing a maid's costume—and she definitely wasn't Georgina. He knew what Georgina looked like.

"Ronald, I think there's been a mistake. That woman is not Georgina Chapman."

"How could that be?" Ronald stood up. "Let's see it ourselves."

Fifteen minutes later, Harvey's phone rang.

"Harvey, what the hell is this?! If you're going to frame Georgina Chapman, at least use a believable tape! Why the hell did you give me footage of Brad Pitt screwing some maid?"

Ronald was livid.

"Thank God I had someone check it first. If we'd broadcast that blindly, it could've blown up in our faces. Are you trying to get me fired, you idiot?!"

He hung up before Harvey could reply.

Benarroc turned to Ronald.

"So… do we still air the video?"

Ronald looked at him like he was crazy.

"Of course we do! Even if it's just Brad Pitt banging a maid, it's still a bombshell story!"

Back at Harvey's place, he popped the tape into the VCR.

Moments later, an enraged shout erupted from the room.

"Son of a bitch! Eric, you lying bastard! You dare scam me?!"

Somehow—he didn't know how—but Eric had swapped the real videotape.

Harvey had seen the original. It was Brad Pitt and Georgina Chapman.

Yet the master tape he held now? Just some maid in costume.

Someone had pulled a fast one on him.

And he'd fallen for it.