Thomas Hart stopped the rumbling motorcycle and took off his helmet to let out a sigh of relief. After he got off the motorcycle, he kicked the old thing in annoyance before walking back to his rented apartment.
"Thomas?" As soon as he entered the door downstairs, he heard a voice. "I have to remind you that the rent is due in a few days. You'd better pay it together with the $50 you owe last month. Otherwise, I'll have to call the police!"
On the stairs, a Caucasian woman in her thirties stood there and looked at him with an unfriendly expression. Although she had a round face and looked rich and gentle, her words were quite harsh.
"I know, Mrs. Reggie Zamo. I'm about to earn a sum of money. As soon as I get it, I'll give it to you immediately." Although he was angry, when he thought of what Ruffalo, the editor-in-chief of the Los Angeles Times, had said to him, Hart suppressed his anger and replied humbly.
"You'd better do as you say." The Caucasian woman looked at him suspiciously. She probably felt that his reaction was a little different from usual, but she didn't think too much about it. She frowned and a trace of disgust flashed across her face. Then, she walked back to her apartment.
Damn woman! Hart clenched his fist. He had seen mean people before, but this was the first time he had seen someone as mean as this woman. For example, he still owed rent at other places, but other landlords only allowed him to owe it for four months at most. Of course, he always made up for it in time. However, although this woman was only in her thirties, she valued money very much. Last month, she begged him again and again and used up every cent he had. When she was really out of money, she reluctantly agreed to let him owe her $50.
If it wasn't for the fact that he often owed rent at his previous house, even though he always made up for it, he really felt sorry for the kind landlord. Otherwise, he wouldn't have moved to such a shabby place.
I have to make this deal, I have to! Hart said to himself in his heart. This was God's will. He didn't think that he would accidentally enter a private beach and take such an amazing scene from afar just because he went to the wrong place. This was too exaggerated. Look at the list. Nicole Kidman, Gwyneth Paltrow, Kathryn Zeta-Jones, Britney Spears … Any one of them, even if it was just one of the two lingerie models, would make countless men flock to them. However, they were holding such a party at the same time, at the same place, with the same man. If the news went to the newspapers, it would definitely cause a strong earthquake.
As long as he could make this deal, he could definitely make a comeback! As long as he could make this deal, he would definitely be able to make a comeback! Even though he was cheering himself on, his face still looked gloomy. He had thought that by going to the newspaper office and pestering the powerful chief editor, the deal would be completed. He had not expected that there would be so much trouble. He had almost forgotten that Director Miracle was also one of the top media moguls in the world.
Even though he was cheering himself on, he still looked gloomy. He thought that if he went to the newspaper and pestered the powerful chief editor, the deal would be completed. He didn't expect that there would be so much trouble. He had almost forgotten that Director Miracle was also one of the world's top media moguls. However, after hearing Editor Ruffalo's description, he realized that he had been too superficial in many things. Although he didn't think there was a need for more high-definition photos, what Ruffalo said was also right. They had to be cautious and confidential. These were all very good suggestions.
What happened after that was basically the same. The other party also repeatedly told him to be careful and not to spread the news immediately. When he clearly said that it was Ruffalo from the Los Angeles Times who asked him to look for him, the other party immediately called Ruffalo in front of him and exchanged opinions. Hart also said a few words to Ruffalo. What happened after that was basically the same. The other party also repeatedly told him to be careful and not to spread the news immediately. When he clearly said that it was Ruffalo from the Los Angeles Times who asked him to look for him, the other party immediately called Ruffalo in front of him and exchanged opinions. Hart also said a few words to Ruffalo.
This made him feel more at ease, so he agreed to temporarily keep a low profile before they pulled in other people with more powerful backgrounds to discuss how to deal with it.
Maybe I should borrow some money from them and pay this d * mn rent first? Thomas Hart, who was sitting on a chair and rubbing his face with both hands to relieve his fatigue, suddenly had this thought. He then smiled bitterly and shook his head. He clenched his fists and sighed dejectedly. He was about to get up to sort out the backup and find a safe place to hide it.
Then, a voice rang out. "Sorry, I saw that you don't have anything to drink here, so I made myself a cup of instant coffee. You don't mind, do you?"
The sudden appearance of another voice gave Hart a big fright. He almost threw the backpack in his hand and knocked over a chair before he calmed down a little. Then, he casually grabbed something and put on a posture. He looked nervously at the person who suddenly appeared in his room. "Who are you? What do you want?! "
"Relax, Mr. Thomas Hart. The plastic inflatable stick in your hand is no threat to me. There are no suitable self-defense tools in your room. No guns, no knives, not even a baseball bat," the other party said in a gentle tone.
It was a middle-aged man whose age could not be determined. He might be 35 or 45 years old. He had a very mediocre face. It was so mediocre that one would forget it if one turned around. He was dressed in a suit and stood at the door of Hart's remodeled darkroom. He held a cup in his hand and looked very calm.
"I also did not bring any lethal weapons. Of course, I admit that I brought a few bodyguards, but they are all outside, downstairs." He casually walked to his old sofa and sat down as if he was in his own home. "So, sit down and talk to me, Mr. Hart."
"Who are you?" Although Hart had guessed a little, he still could not help but ask. He was still holding the plastic inflatable stick in his hand tightly.
"My name is Martin Mortimer," he said. The other party crossed his legs and gestured for him to take a seat. "Mr. Adrian Kewell's personal representative."
Thomas Hart's heart immediately sank. Although he had already sensed that something was wrong, he did not expect it to be true. What was going on? He had just gone to look for Ruffolo yesterday. Why did the media mogul's people come knocking on his door today? It looked like they even searched his room. Who sold everyone out?!
"Is that so?" Hart, whose mind was racing, squeezed out a smile. "So, what do you want to do next? Find a bag, put me in it, and then throw me into the sea? "
"How could that be?" Mortimer could not help but laugh. He spread out his hands. "We are law-abiding citizens."
Seeing his behavior, Hart also slightly relaxed. It seemed like they were here to negotiate. Then, a thought popped up in his mind. It made him slightly excited, but at the same time, he hesitated. If the other party knew … But it would bring him more benefits. It would also ensure his safety. They would not be so familiar with him, let alone know what he had on him.
"Alright." Hart swallowed and tried his best to remain calm. He straightened his clothes and sat in front of Mortimer. "What do you want to do?"
"No, Mr. Hart, you should tell me what you want to do." Mortimer immediately kicked the ball back to him.
"What else can I do? This is breaking news. The richest and most powerful man in Hollywood and a few of Hollywood's most famous stars are having a sex party at the beach. This will attract a lot of attention. No matter which newspaper publishes this news, their circulation will increase by several levels," Hart said, licking his lips.
"Do you think the readers will believe it? Two Oscar winners for Best Actress, two Oscar winners for Best Supporting Actress, two popular idol singers, and two popular lingerie models are having a sex party with the richest and most powerful man in Hollywood? "Mortimer asked calmly with a smile.
"Why wouldn't they believe it? Everyone knows that Miracle Director is a playboy. Every Miracle Girl has an ambiguous relationship with him. Not to mention …" Hart laughed. "There are so many photos."
"They were photoshopped," Mortimer said casually.
"What?" Hart furrowed his brows.
"Adobe's programmers will be happy to demonstrate to the jury how these photos are photoshopped. They'll also be willing to provide a way to tell the difference between a photoshopped photo and a normal photo," Mortimer said briskly. Modimo said briskly. "Then, when the news got out, people started to doubt the validity of the whole thing. Soon, someone would come out and turn himself in. The person in charge of a porn website specialized in making photoshopped photos of celebrities and selling them for money. He'll admit that someone ordered these photos from him. He didn't care at first, but he realized how wrong he was when this case came out. He's not a good person, but he has his own bottom line. Mr. Kewell's charity fund once helped him get through a difficult time in his life. "
Hart's face paled. At this point, he basically understood. If this was really reported, then Adriaan would sue him immediately, and all the backup plans were in place … How was this possible?!
"I can testify, I saw it with my own eyes …" He still wanted to struggle.
"The jury won't believe a person with a criminal record of fraud, especially when he divorced his wife and was banned by the court from getting close to his child." Mortimer dropped another bombshell.
"It's that bastard who framed me!" Hart's face instantly turned red, and he yelled. The calmness he tried to maintain completely collapsed. This was the biggest pain in his heart.
"I believe that, especially after reading the relevant information about you. I sympathize with you." Mortimer was still so calm. "But you have to convince the jury and the court. Of course, there may be some lawyers eager to help you fight for free, but believe me, most media companies will be on our side, and the jury won't let them get away with it. "
Such a blatant dividing of the jury to his side, the intentions behind it were clear. Hart took a few deep breaths and finally controlled himself, but he did not speak again. He just stared at Mortimer. Even so, at least he still had one trick up his sleeves.
Unfortunately, Mortimer, who had remained calm, had obviously guessed his plan. After he calmed down, he immediately opened his jacket. On the top right of the jacket, there was a small rectangular black box with a few wires connected to some unknown place.
"A recording jammer that the Pentagon recently ordered. The FBA and CIB have also used it before. Non-civilian use, whether it's tape recording or digital recording, it can't escape," Mortimer explained calmly.
Hart's jaw dropped, and he looked like he could not believe it.
"Give it a try." Mortimer raised his hand. "I believe you have more than one recording device here. Pick one and try it."
Even though he told himself not to believe Mortimer's flowery words, he could not help but reach into his pocket and take out the recording pen that he turned on when he was tidying up his clothes. He raised it to his ear, stared at Mortimer, and pressed the play button with trembling hands. Then, his face turned ashen, and only a rustling sound came from the recording pen.
Mortimer was so thorough. Not only did he find out all his information in a short period of time, but he also considered all aspects, rendering all his methods useless. Hart, who was in despair, finally understood what Ruffalo meant when he said he was too shallow and Adriaan had great power.
"What do you want?" His face was pale, and he slumped on the chair like a deflated ball.
Mortimer smiled. His emotions did not seem to have changed. "A cheque for two million, visitation rights for your son, and a chance to study."
"Huh?" Thomas Hart's eyes widened as he looked at the middle-aged man in front of him in confusion.
"If you pass, you'll get a recommendation letter. Based on your final results, you'll be assigned to a famous magazine or newspaper, and then promoted to a supervisor in a few years." Mortimer continued, "If you don't pass, you'll get another cheque for three million and a plane ticket to Monaco. Of course, if you're not interested in studying, you can get another cheque for five million and a plane ticket to Monaco."
Hart was getting more and more confused. Mortimer had done so many things and completely shattered his confidence, but in the end, he offered such generous conditions? Why was that? But he quickly came to his senses. Even though all his trump cards were completely exposed, his brain did not completely turn into mush. It was normal for Mortimer to do this. If it were him, he would probably do the same. In a negotiation, whoever could see through the other party's trump card first would have the upper hand.
From this point, it could be seen that their negotiation was very sincere. Moreover, although the person in front of him had used all sorts of methods to attack him, his tone had never sounded condescending. But why would he offer such conditions … Wait!
A thought flashed in his mind, and Hart suddenly raised his head. "Mark Ruffalo, chief editor of the Los Angeles Times' entertainment section! And Louis Hoffman, chief editor of the Los Angeles branch of the New York Times! "
He paused, took a deep breath, and then said, "If I'm not wrong, the chief editor of the Los Angeles branch of the Washington Post is the same."
Mortimer gently clapped his hands. "You're a smart man, Mr. Hart. After reading your information in detail, I came to this conclusion. Even if your colleague betrayed you, you still found a loophole and made a deal with the prosecutor that was beneficial to you. Although your reputation was ruined, you avoided prison. So, I made a suggestion to my boss. So — can you answer me now?"
"I agree." Thomas Hart gave an affirmative answer. He couldn't refuse his son's visitation rights. Not to mention, he needed an opportunity now.
"Very well, then let's go." Mortimer immediately stood up.
"Go?" Hart was confused.
"Yes, this is enough to sell everything here," Mortimer said and handed over a check for 100,000 USD. Mortimer handed over a $100,000 check. "I don't think you made a backup somewhere else, right?"
"Of course not." Mortimer immediately reacted and couldn't help but laugh. "Do I need to leave this set of clothes here?"
"No need, but other than the necessary things, like keys and driver's license, it's best to leave everything behind," Mortimer said without hesitation. "I can get someone to help you find a suitable house to rent. You can also do it yourself." Mortimer said without hesitation.
"Okay, okay." Hart took out some small things from his pocket and threw them on the ground. He then took the check and left the room with Mortimer.
Then, Mortimer put his hand into his pocket and pressed something. Two capable men walked up the stairs. After he nodded, they went into the house and began to tidy up.
"You're really meticulous." Seeing them enter the house, Hart sighed with some nostalgia. Although there was nothing valuable, there were still some things that accompanied him for a long time.
But he quickly came back to his senses. This was not bad. He could treat it as a complete separation from the past.
"You must have Mr. Kewell's trust," he said.
"Thank you for the compliment." Mortimer patted his shoulder. "Let's go. I can give you a ride. Which hotel do you plan to stay in?"
After leaving the apartment and getting into Mortimer's car, Hart finally couldn't help but ask, "What if I don't agree? What if I insist on going public no matter what? "
"Why do you ask this question?" Mortimer raised an eyebrow.
"I'm just curious." Hart seemed to be explaining something. "I believe that this is not the only method you have prepared. I also believe that Mr. Kewell will definitely not be willing to go public with this matter or even take it to court. Although it's been a short time, I've still seen some of his information. I heard that he … has a good reputation in certain aspects and is very protective."
Mortimer, who had his hand on the steering wheel, couldn't help but chuckle. After a while, he patted Hart's shoulder lightly. "You know, Mr. Hart, America is a big country. It has millions of square miles and a population of three to four hundred million. So … there will never be a lack of gun-toting vagrants and drunken truck drivers."
After that, he smiled again and started the car. Hart sat in the front passenger seat and was stunned for a long time before he reacted. He looked at Mortimer who was focused on driving and sighed.
"Law-abiding citizen …" he muttered in a half-mocking and half-sighing tone.
Then, Hart lowered his head and clenched his fists tightly. He didn't need to care about those things anymore. He had already made his choice. He had already boarded the ship. This was a very good opportunity. What he needed to do was to firmly grasp it!
