Chapter 158: Wrong Answers

[Chapter 158: Wrong Answers]

An hour later, Ian returned to the banquet hall, wearing new clothes. The party was still in full swing, and the big shots were mingling in small groups, chatting among themselves.

When Bertram Leek saw Ian approaching, he raised his glass and called out, "Hey Ian, where did you run off to? Gaskill mentioned you had something to take care of."

As soon as he said it, he noticed Olivia behind Ian and instantly understood, chuckling, "Looks like you were indeed busy."

Ian glanced around and saw the sofas were all occupied. Howard Stringer shot a glare at his assistant, who quickly got up. "Have a seat here, Ian," Howard offered.

Both Howard and Harvey Weinstein recognized they had to maintain a certain stature in public around Ian, despite their previous dynamic having changed. So Ian settled down next to Howard, while Olivia seated herself in a chair behind him.

In that hour of fun, Olivia had not once asked Ian for anything, choosing instead to stay put and let things unfold naturally. Ian smiled at Bertram, saying, "Just taking a quick break. I heard Olivia's a good girl. Is she with you guys now?"

Indeed, she was quite the catch, with a fabulous figure and a proactive attitude. Girls who made the first move were usually quite adept at satisfying a man's wishes.

As a firm believer that attitude trumps skill, Ian Carr felt that skills could always be developed over time.

Bertram laughed, saying, "Oh, I'm not too sure about the details myself."

Ian looked back at Olivia, and she whispered, "I haven't signed with an agency yet; I'm currently working with a producer under Mr. Leek, and they're treating me well, bringing me out to see things. I hope this doesn't upset her."

Ian got the hint -- Olivia's actions were not sanctioned by the producer. If she failed at winning Ian over, it wouldn't be him she'd need to worry about, but rather the producer's displeasure...

Smart girl, hinting she was in a bind and needed her knight in shining armor to rescue her?

Ian smiled and said, "It's no big deal." He turned to Bertram, "Let's have her join us at Lockbridge."

Bertram chuckled, "Sure thing, it's all minor stuff. But Ian, Lockbridge isn't an agency; I'd advise you to establish a professional agency -- it might suit you better."

Bertram had lost the arrogance he once held against Ian. In 2000, he had disregarded Ian; by 2001, they were on equal footing, and now in 2002, Ian had become a major stakeholder at CBS, someone who could definitely stand alongside Bertram.

Given that Olivia wasn't considered a big deal at present, Bertram wouldn't throw in any words to inflate her worth or even ask for any kind of price; instead, he offered sound advice.

Moreover, Ian's influence was formidable, and luckily, he wasn't much into production; focusing his attention on talent management benefited everyone!

After all, Hollywood never lacked beautiful women.

Ian nodded, "I'm thinking about it, but starting a company can be a hassle. Maybe it's better just to buy one outright."

Bertram asked, "Any targets in mind?"

"Still contemplating," Ian casually replied.

Harvey Weinstein chimed in quickly, "You could consider buying UTA."

UTA? Ian was taken aback. Howard added, "Yeah, UTA has been looking to collaborate with TV networks. You're a CBS major shareholder; you could really help them out and use your influence -- it shouldn't be a problem."

Since it was coming from his two close advisors, Ian had no reason to doubt them.

He waved his hand, and his assistant, Ida, came over. "I need the specifics on UTA," Ian instructed.

Ida jotted it down and left. Everyone casually chatted as they noted time was running out, prompting Ian to say his goodbyes.

...

As he was leaving, Olivia wanted to accompany him, but he gently declined. He kissed her softly and added, "I'll reach out if I need anything. And here, take this phone number; it's Dan Mills, the head of Lockbridge Productions. For now, your agency contract can go to him, and once I secure my agency, we can make the switch. Also, make sure to thank your producer later; you never burn bridges."

Olivia replied sweetly, "Okay, boss." She hugged Ian and gave him a long kiss before parting ways.

That moment caught the eyes of many girls at the party, each filled with envy.

Just from a single drink, she climbed the social ladder! They were taking notes!

---

After leaving the hotel, Ian decided not to take a car but instead strolled through the streets of Los Angeles, with Brydon slowly following in the vehicle.

The night in Los Angeles was a blend of desolation and glamour, especially under the early winter snowfall, which added a touch of melancholy. Ian had formed a long-standing habit of walking, and he cherished this leisurely lifestyle. As he walked away from the affluent neighborhoods, he reached a desolate street, devoid of life but adorned with graffiti along the sides.

The cold weather kept the streets largely abandoned, and Ian felt himself shrink within his coat. Standing still on the street, he declared, "You can come out now."

From the shadows, several men emerged, their faces covered with red bandanas, guns in hand; two of them aimed at Brydon.

One of them said, "Ian Carr, you're quite sharp."

Ian smiled and asked, "Who sent you?"

The leader replied quietly, "You did. You said you welcomed the idea of being kidnapped."

Ian chuckled, shaking his head. "Not in this manner."

"What did you say?" the other was taken aback.

Ian shrugged, "A simple kidnapping holds no value; it needs some extra flair. Do you have that?"

The leader let out a low laugh, aiming his gun at Ian's forehead. "We're here to kidnap you, not to play nice, buddy."

Ian smiled wider. He spread his hands, saying, "No collaboration, no money. Here's a suggestion: leave now and go do something violent. My team will handle the filming. If you can escape, I'll reach out to you and pay what's due."

The men exchanged glances, confusion written all over their faces. "You're not afraid of dying, are you, Ian Carr?" one asked.

Ian chuckled lightly. "Not at all, you just don't have what it takes to kill me. Now, tell me, are you willing to accept my offer?"

The leader narrowed his eyes furiously, aiming directly at Ian's forehead. "I'd like to see if I truly can't end your life."

He pulled the trigger, yet nothing happened.

Ian raised an eyebrow. "You actually fired? Fool!"

Without further ado, he swiftly drew his own gun. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The thudding sound of gunfire rang out, and one by one, the assailants collapsed, eyes wide open in disbelief as they clutched their guns. How could they not have fired?

Ian glanced at their lifeless bodies, visibly irritated. How pitiful! They had a shot to make headlines, yet they failed to follow through!

"What a waste of a news opportunity," Ian thought bitterly.

Brydon leaned his head out of the car. "The dashcam caught everything," he relayed.

Folding his gun back, Ian quietly returned to the car, his expression somber. "This worthless news? Letting people know I retaliated will deter others from trying to kidnap me. It'll serve as my self-defense proof, assuming the LAPD can ever find me."

The growing frustration coursed within him made him grind his teeth.

He truly detested those who couldn't cooperate for a lucrative outcome!

"Yes, boss," Brydon started the engine. After a beat, he asked, "Mind if I ask how you got their safety off?"

Sitting back in the car, Ian closed his eyes, thinking. "Two answers: One, they forgot to engage it. Two, magic."

Brydon shook his head, responding, "Both wrong answers."

With a roar, they sped off into the night.

*****

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