Chapter 17: The Game of Titans

The Orion Project had cemented Nate Whitaker as Hollywood's next big star.

But now, he stood at the center of a silent war—Damien Cross on one side, Jonathan Mercer on the other.

Both powerful. Both dangerous.

Both wanting a piece of him.

As Nate sat in his penthouse, swirling a glass of whiskey, he replayed Mercer's words in his mind:

"Loyalty in Hollywood is a dangerous thing."

He wasn't stupid.

This wasn't just about movies anymore.

It was about control.

And Nate Whitaker had no intention of being someone else's pawn.

---

The next morning, Nate received an unexpected invitation.

Jonathan Mercer wanted a private meeting.

The location?

A luxury yacht docked off the coast of Malibu.

Nate smirked.

The rich never did business in offices.

Hours later, a sleek black car pulled up to a secluded dock.

A private boat was waiting.

Nate stepped on board and was ferried to Mercer's massive yacht.

The moment he stepped onto the deck, Mercer greeted him with a glass of expensive scotch.

"Glad you came," Mercer said smoothly.

Nate took the glass. "I was curious. People like you don't make social calls."

Mercer chuckled. "Smart. Let's get to it, then."

He gestured toward a plush seating area.

"You're on the rise, Whitaker. Fast. Too fast. And that makes some people… nervous."

Nate smirked. "Let me guess—people like Damien Cross?"

Mercer sipped his drink. "Damien creates stars. But he also owns them. That's what you signed up for."

Nate leaned forward. "And what are you offering?"

Mercer's smile widened.

"Freedom."

A long pause.

Then Mercer continued, "Cross will give you power—but only the kind he allows you to have. I can give you something better."

"And what's that?" Nate asked.

Mercer's voice lowered.

"Independence."

Nate's fingers tapped against his glass.

If Mercer was telling the truth, this was bigger than just a career move.

This was about who truly controlled Hollywood.

"And what do you get out of this?" Nate asked.

Mercer chuckled. "A new player in town. One who owes me a favor when the time comes."

A dangerous deal.

But wasn't that what Hollywood was built on?

Nate swirled his drink, considering.

Then he smirked.

"I'll think about it."

Mercer nodded, satisfied. "That's all I ask—for now."

But as Nate left the yacht, he knew one thing—

A storm was coming.

And he was standing right in the middle of it.

The drive back from Jonathan Mercer's yacht was silent.

Nate sat in the back of his luxury car, staring out at the glowing Los Angeles skyline.

Mercer had made his move.

Freedom. Independence. A way out of Damien Cross's control.

But was that really what he wanted?

He had climbed higher in a few months than most actors did in a lifetime.

But power in Hollywood came at a price.

And Nate Whitaker had just stepped onto a battlefield where one wrong move could end everything.

---

When Nate returned to his penthouse, he found an unexpected visitor waiting.

Damien Cross.

Dressed in an impeccable black suit, sipping Nate's expensive whiskey like he owned the place.

"You've been busy," Damien said, his voice calm—but his eyes sharp.

Nate exhaled, tossing his keys onto the counter. "I take it you heard."

Damien smirked. "I hear everything."

Nate leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Then you know Mercer made me an offer."

A pause.

Then Damien nodded. "Of course."

Silence stretched between them.

Then Damien set his glass down and spoke in a tone laced with quiet danger.

"I gave you Orion, Nate. I put you on top. And now Mercer whispers in your ear, talking about freedom?"

Nate didn't flinch. "You gave me Orion because I'm valuable. And we both know you don't do charity."

Damien chuckled. "True. But let's be clear—Mercer isn't your friend. He's just another man looking to own you. The only difference is, he'll pretend you have a choice."

Nate exhaled. "So what? You expect blind loyalty?"

Damien's smile faded. "I expect you to remember who made you."

The weight of those words settled between them.

A test. A warning. A reminder.

Nate met Damien's gaze without backing down.

"I remember everything," he said.

A long silence.

Then Damien stood, adjusting his suit. "Good. Because there are only two kinds of people in this town, Whitaker—those who rise, and those who get buried."

He walked to the door but paused before leaving.

"Choose wisely."

And just like that, he was gone.

Leaving Nate standing alone, heart pounding, realizing just how dangerous the game had become.

--

That night, Nate lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

Damien had power. Mercer had influence.

But he had something they didn't.

Knowledge of the future.

And if he played his cards right, he wouldn't need to choose sides.

He would create his own empire.

His own power.

His own Hollywood dynasty.

But to do that, he had to make a move neither Damien nor Mercer would see coming.

A move that would change the game forever.

And he already had a plan.

Nate Whitaker wasn't just going to survive in Hollywood.

He was going to rule it.

Nate Whitaker had spent his life waiting for a break.

Now, with Damien Cross and Jonathan Mercer pulling him in opposite directions, he realized something—

He wasn't going to be anyone's pawn.

He was going to be a king.

And kings didn't wait for power.

They took it.

--

The first step to true independence?

Money.

Real money. Not just the paycheck from The Orion Project, but funds he controlled.

So, he called someone he hadn't spoken to in a long time—

Aidan Graves.

A Wall Street shark turned Hollywood financier.

A man who could turn a million into a hundred million—if you knew how to play the game.

They met at a high-end rooftop bar in downtown LA.

Aidan smirked as he sipped his drink. "You, calling me? Let me guess—you finally realized being famous isn't enough?"

Nate smirked back. "Something like that."

Aidan leaned forward. "Alright, Whitaker. What's the play?"

Nate placed a folder on the table.

Inside—a business plan.

He wasn't just going to act in movies.

He was going to own them.

Invest in them.

Produce them.

Aidan flipped through the pages, eyebrows raising. "You're thinking big."

"Only way to win."

Aidan chuckled. "Alright. You need capital. What's your starting number?"

Nate exhaled. "Fifty million."

Aidan let out a low whistle. "That's not small change."

Nate leaned in. "I'm not playing a small game."

Aidan studied him for a long moment.

Then he grinned.

"Alright, Whitaker. Let's make you rich."

---

A month later, things were already changing.

Through Aidan's connections, Nate started making private investments in projects no one saw coming.

A rising tech startup developing AI-generated film editing.

A music label poised to disrupt the industry.

A small but promising film studio looking for a new face to back it.

He wasn't just another actor now.

He was a player.

And people were starting to notice.

---

One night, as Nate was reviewing documents in his penthouse, his phone buzzed.

Damien Cross.

He picked up.

"Whitaker," Damien's voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it. "We need to talk."

Nate smirked. "I'm listening."

Damien's tone sharpened. "In person. My office. Tomorrow night."

Nate knew what this was.

Cross had noticed the shift in power.

And he wasn't happy.

As the call ended, Nate leaned back in his chair, exhaling.

Tomorrow would be a turning point.

Because for the first time—

He wasn't coming to Damien Cross as an actor looking for approval.

He was coming as an equal.

And Damien wasn't going to like it.