King of Hollywood

Chapter 136: Chapter 136: Future Influence

Stepping out of the little tavern, Adrian looked up at the now clear sky. Sunlight, rare as it was, leaked through the gaps in the clouds, making the columns of light appear almost holy.

Adrian took a deep breath, enjoying the refreshing air after the rain, and pulled his hat down to shade his eyes. Although he was certain no reporters had spotted him leaving and he believed no one would recognize a film director on the street, it was always good to be cautious.

He walked casually down the street, sizing up the various signs while contemplating his own matters. “Philadelphia Story,” “True Lies,” “Four Weddings and a Funeral,” the film promised to Jean Reno and Anne Rice’s novel—just planning all this was already a lot, not to mention that “Jurassic Park” was in production and “Casper” was about to be released—he would also have to attend the premiere since Disney was producing and distributing the movie.

Investments for “Schindler’s List” also needed to be prepared, as Spielberg would likely dive into this film as soon as he finished production on “Jurassic Park.” He had already waited too long.

All this added up, there were almost eight movies connected with Bossworth Film Company. Although for a medium-sized film company, the number of movies invested or produced in a year was definitely more than this, these films were nearly all box office hits with earnings over a hundred million! Luckily, they weren’t all releasing this year; otherwise, it would have shocked many to their core.

Perhaps it’s all a bit too rushed, too quick? Adrian shook his head. The next few years would only bring more! After this year, his personal pace of filming would slow down, but the company’s production, investment, and distribution in such films would only increase.

Looking over the entire ’90s, Hollywood’s blockbusters couldn’t compare to the dazzling special effects of the 21st century, yet they contained something much more profound than movies that relied solely on special effects. Many people viewed Hollywood in the ’90s as the most exceptional and remarkable era because at least once a year, there would be a film that was exquisite in both effects and content.

The reasons for drawing such conclusions were manifold—the large-scale application of special effects, the rise of high investments, the opening of the Eastern European film market, among others. Adrian didn’t want to ponder these issues. He had only one goal: to ensure that the vast majority of high-quality films produced in the ’90s had his or Bossworth Film Company’s imprint on them!

He could definitely achieve this—who knew better than him which films would be major hits and critically acclaimed? With ample funds at his disposal, he could dabble in these outstanding films through investment, production, or distribution. Yes, he couldn’t guarantee a hundred percent that “recreating” these films would yield the same box office results as in his memory, but a 70% chance of success was more than enough to place a bet.

This approach might seem crazy, but once accomplished, the rewards would be far more than just financial benefits. Some accumulated influence would have an astounding impact, an influence that Adrian’s Empire would need in the future, so he had already planned for it from the beginning.

Stopping in his tracks, he took another deep breath and then hailed a taxi. Observing the streetscape receding outside the car window, Adrian decided to put movie-related thoughts aside. It was time to relax properly.

The taxi arrived quickly at the Claridge Hotel. Paying the fare, Adrian headed straight through the lobby to the elevator and naturally pressed the button for the 14th floor, as if he lived here.

As the elevator ascended, he reached the 14th floor and straightened his clothes in front of the hallway mirror—despite their plainness. Adrian strode to room 1416 and rang the doorbell.

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“May I ask whom you are looking for?” A woman’s voice came from behind the door after a few minutes.

“Room service, ma’am,” Adrian said, his lips curving into a slight smile.

The door opened promptly, and a glamorous woman in a spaghetti strap dress under a black silk short coat appeared before Adrian. Her deep brown hair now reached her shoulders, her brown eyes unblinkingly fixed on him, her full, sensuous lips slightly parted, as if craving something.

“Do you offer all kinds of services?” She leaned against the door frame, exuding an indescribable lazy seduction.

“Every kind.” Adrian raised an eyebrow.

The next second, Monica stepped forward and embraced him, unabashedly sealing her lips to his. Although Adrian was slightly taken aback, he reciprocated without reservation, wrapping his arms around her waist and heading into the room, closing the door behind him with a sweep of his hand.

Bang—the sound was like a signal, and the kissing pair immediately heated up. Adrian stripped off Monica’s silk coat with one hand, while Monica unbuckled his belt. Even so, their mouths never parted as they continued to touch each other’s defenses, lips locked, moving to the center of the room.

Finally, with a thud, they both collapsed onto the floor, followed by even heavier panting. Without a word, the man and woman began the most primal of actions right there on the floor of the hotel room.

After a passionate and vigorous battle, Adrian lay on the ground and tenderly held Monica in his arms.

“You seem especially excited today,” Monica said, coming back to her senses, turning her head to look at Adrian with a somewhat hoarse voice.

“That’s natural, we haven’t seen each other for a while,” Adrian said with a smile, then kissed her delicate collarbone. In fact, there was another reason, just like the old saying goes, “A wife is not as good as a concubine, a concubine is not as good as a stolen affair.” Taking the opportunity of discussing a movie with Neville, secretly meeting with Monica who had specially come to London at the Claridge Hotel was indeed very thrilling.

“How have you been lately? Have you finished promoting the movie, are you resting well?” Adrian continued to ask.

“Not bad, shopping around, doing beauty treatments, exercising, and keeping fit,” Monica replied lazily.

“What are you thinking about? Your little girlfriend?” Monica, sensing something, simply turned over.

“Do you really think so, Monica?” Adrian looked at her with an amused expression.

“Yes, that’s what I think, women’s intuition!” Monica said with an indescribable tone.

“Alright, alright, whatever you say,” Adrian laughed.

“It doesn’t mean anything?” Adrian replied, jokingly.

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Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, she rubbed her cheek against the pillow, and Monica finally woke up from her deep sleep. Her eyes slightly open, she turned and instinctively reached out to embrace the person beside her, only to realize she was clasping at air and was alone in bed, her bare body wrapped in a thin blanket.

After a few seconds of confusion, Monica finally came to her senses, dropped her arm, shrugged her shoulders with a complex expression, and then lay on her back sighing deeply. That was when she noticed the bedside lamp was on, and looking out the window, she saw that it had long since grown dark outside.

Well, at least he was thoughtful before he left, Monica thought to herself sarcastically. She was about to sit up when a small card on the nightstand caught her attention.

It was a simple handmade card, its cover adorned with a sketch, which with just a few strokes captured Monica’s appearance as she lay sleeping on the bed.

Monica picked up the card, turned the bedside lamp brighter, and opened it.

“Hi, dear Monica, by the time you read this message I will have already left, sorry I couldn’t find better material for the card. I regret I can’t be by your side tonight, but I want to tell you that on my way back, I’m thinking about your lips every moment. Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

Although it was just a few lines, Monica, leaning against the headboard, read them over and over again, eventually focusing on the sketch on the cover. She had seen such sketches before—not for the first time. During the time Adrian was on a closed filming set, although he didn’t call her, he wrote to her every week. The letters did not contain much, but each one ended with a small sketch. Although simple, they perfectly captured the essence; it was immediately obvious who it was.

After a deep sigh, Monica got dressed in her pajamas and got out of bed. She did not turn on the light, walked barefoot to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of champagne and a glass, then sat down in the chair by the floor-to-ceiling window. She poured herself a glass and slowly savored it as the light from outside shone in through the glass, casting her long shadow across the room. (To be continued. For more of the story, please visit www.qidian.com. More chapters are available, support the author, support genuine reading!)