Chapter 203: The Enemy of My Enemy

"You're not in a hurry, are you, Sophie?"

Looking at the woman—beautiful as Venus and pure as an angel—Duke cleared his throat.

"I need a little time," he said.

Sophie Marceau wore an expression of effortless ease, like a queen with absolute power who had everything under control. Her bare body stood in stark contrast to her composed demeanor, but she didn't care.

"I told you, Duke, we have all the time in the world," she said.

"I want to tell you a story, too," Duke said slowly. "A story about a video camera."

Sophie Marceau simply gestured for him to go ahead.

Duke smiled. "Sony launched its newly developed DCR-VX1000 DV camera this July," he said. "It hasn't hit the North American market yet, but Sony Electronics was thoughtful enough to send samples to several famous Hollywood actors and directors. I happen to be one of them."

His words seemed entirely unrelated to the events of the evening, but Sophie Marceau suddenly felt a strong sense of foreboding.

"My mother has a goddaughter. She's quite mischievous and absolutely loved the camera. When she came over to play last time, I originally planned to give it to her, but she left it in the downstairs living room when she went home."

Duke pointed at the floor.

"That night, I put the camera away," he said unhurriedly.

He leaned forward, inching a little closer to Sophie Marceau.

"Do you know where I put it?"

Perhaps she had already guessed. Sophie Marceau's voice lost its earlier ease.

"How... how would I know?" she asked.

"Right here in this room."

Hearing Duke's words, Sophie Marceau subconsciously wanted to turn and check her surroundings, but she forced herself to sit still. Before she could speak, Duke looked her straight in the eyes.

"When we first got to the room and you went to take a shower, I noticed the camera was out of battery, so I plugged it in to charge..." he said.

He tapped his forehead.

"I forget whether I actually turned it on," he added.

The effortless ease vanished from Sophie Marceau's face without a trace. Her beautiful features grew tight as iron.

"Duke Rosenberg, you... you..." she stammered, forcing a calm tone. "Do you... do you think I'd... I'd believe you?"

Duke crossed his arms, looking completely uninterested in proving his claim.

"Sophie..." he said. "Whether you believe me or not is your problem."

Just as Sophie Marceau began to let out a quiet breath of relief, Duke spoke again.

"The DV camera Sony gave me is a custom model," he said. "The footage isn't quite as sharp as a film camera, but I'm very satisfied with both the picture and the sound quality."

"I don't believe you! I don't believe you!"

Sophie Marceau gripped the armrests of her chair tightly, as if holding on for dear life. She snatched up her mobile phone and waved it at Duke.

"I'm calling the police! I'll call them right now!" she said.

"Be my guest!"

Seeing her abruptly stand up with her phone in hand, Duke made no move to stop her. Instead, he offered a polite gesture for her to go ahead. Sophie Marceau's right index finger hovered over the send button, but she couldn't summon the courage to press it.

She stared fixedly at Duke, and Duke looked right back at her. The standoff lasted for about five seconds before Sophie Marceau slumped back into her chair.

"You've made a very wise choice," Duke said, his demeanor as calm as ever. "Miss Sophie Marceau."

"You... are a demon!"

Her fingers loosened, and the mobile phone dropped onto the carpet. Sophie Marceau glared at Duke.

"I can't believe you would use such despicable methods," she said.

"Sophie, you just told me a vivid, lively story that taught me never to underestimate anyone and showed me just how treacherous this world can be," Duke replied.

Now that his suspicion had turned into reality, any lingering guilt Duke felt over taking a page from Teacher Chen's playbook vanished completely.

"This is just basic self-preservation," he added.

Sophie Marceau's eyes darted around.

"I..." she started. "I want to see exactly what you filmed."

"You'll get your chance," Duke said.

He wasn't stupid enough to bring the camera out now. His bedroom was huge and filled with things; he'd let the woman guess where it was.

"But not right now," he added.

Sophie Marceau's face turned ashen. Her brown eyes widened to their absolute limits, looking as if she might lunge at him and fight to the death at any moment.

"Calm down, Sophie!"

There was still real business to take care of, and Duke had no desire for the woman sitting across from him to turn hysterical. He spoke deliberately.

"I'm sure the whole world would love to see it. Darling, don't give me a reason or an excuse, all right?"

Fighting back the urge to destroy everything in sight and the fear beginning to well up inside her, Sophie Marceau tried desperately to control herself. The sudden shift in power left her head spinning.

"What do you want to get out of this?" she managed to squeeze out. "Or... what can I do?"

"Everyone loves Sophie Marceau."

Duke stood up and walked over to her side. Using his height advantage, he gazed down at her face—which remained stunning even in anger—before turning away.

"I'm a man who values fair trade, and I'm quite fond of the rule that effort deserves a reward," he said. "So, you can rest easy. I won't ask you to do anything unreasonable. At least, nothing like CAA would."

Ignoring Sophie Marceau, who was still struggling with her thoughts, Duke stepped aside to put on some clothes. He found a large blanket and draped it over her shoulders, then pressed the intercom and said a few words. Within five minutes, a knock sounded at the door, and Tina Fey walked in with a security guard.

"I have something for you to hold onto for now."

Ignoring Sophie Marceau's intense stare, Duke led Tina Fey over to a cabinet between the bathroom and the door. He pulled out the video camera and handed it to her.

"Don't peek," he instructed.

Tina Fey gave a serious nod.

On the other side of the room, Sophie Marceau clutched the blanket tightly around herself and stood up abruptly. Seeing the cautious demeanor of Duke and the security guard, she hesitated. In the end, she didn't take a single step forward, but a look of sheer despair flashed through her eyes.

The door clicked shut, leaving only the two of them in the bedroom once again. Sophie Marceau could no longer maintain her grip on the blanket, letting it slip down onto the thick carpet. The light in her eyes dimmed as she sank lower and lower, finally collapsing back into her chair.

Duke walked back over and stood behind her chair, gently massaging Sophie's smooth shoulders.

"I've never liked deceiving people," he said. "Any promise I make, I keep."

"Effort deserves a reward, doesn't it?"

He moved around to the front and sat back down in his original seat.

"Let's talk about the reward you'll be getting first," he said.

"You... you're not going to blackmail me?" she asked, finding it almost unbelievable.

"We have to look at things separately. Without the camera, you wouldn't listen to me, right?" Duke asked.

He took her hand and gently stroked the red marks around her wrist.

"I believe a mutually beneficial trade is far better at motivating people than a threat," he continued.

Did anyone really expect a single videotape to permanently blackmail these open-minded actresses? He wasn't that foolish. She still had use to him right now, but the person pulling her strings from the shadows was his primary target.

"Sophie, this matter ends here. I won't hold it over your head," Duke said. "Once you've done what I need you to do, you can return to France and go right back to being a European film star."

Sophie Marceau slowly closed her eyes.

"Tell me, Duke," she said. "What do you want me to do?"

Duke didn't beat around the bush.

"It's nothing too difficult," he said. "Since the man behind this is Mel Gibson, he's your target as well."

Seeing a flash of disgust cross Sophie Marceau's face, Duke patted her hand.

"Don't worry," he said. "How could I bear to make the universally loved Sophie Marceau seduce that vulgar Australian savage? What you need to do is very simple: just pretend tonight never happened. Keep socializing with Mel Gibson and his crowd, and simply pass some information along to me when I need it."

"It's that simple?" Sophie Marceau asked, seemingly unable to believe it.

Duke scoffed coldly in his mind, but outwardly he just said, "Right now, it's that simple."

He reached out and squeezed her slender, delicate hand.

"Sophie, you're very charming," he added.

Sophie Marceau let out a breath, her entire body seeming to relax. A glimmer of anticipation appeared on her face as the light slowly returned to her eyes, and she looked once again like the Sophie Marceau capable of mesmerizing all of Europe.

She looked up at him with deep affection.

"Duke, I... I will definitely help you," she said.

"From now on, we're on the same side."

Seeing that Duke showed no signs of anger and was instead treating her so gently, Sophie Marceau suddenly had a thought: 'Could he actually be infatuated with me?'

When it came to her own charm, Sophie Marceau had always been supremely confident. It was, after all, her greatest asset for navigating the European Film Circle.

Testing the waters, she asked, "Can you delete those files now?"

Duke looked at her without saying a word.

"I promise," Sophie Marceau immediately added.

"Should I believe your promise?"

Duke stood up and pinched her smooth cheek.

"Darling, you're tired," he said. "I'll have someone take you to the guest room to rest, and I'll send you back first thing tomorrow morning."

"Then..." Sophie Marceau still didn't want to give up.

"I'll make a copy of the videotape and give it to you," Duke interrupted. "As long as we're partners, it will never see the light of day."

When he had the time, Duke planned to edit himself completely out of the footage, then give a copy to Sophie Marceau as a reminder that there were some things she simply couldn't do—and that if she did, she'd have to pay the price.

Sophie Marceau followed a maid to the guest room. Duke walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, pulled back the curtains, and gazed out at the pitch-black ocean outside, his eyes gradually turning sharp and ruthless.

Why did Mel Gibson do this? Why choose this specific time? It only took a moment of thought for him to figure it out.

The friction and conflict between them hadn't just appeared recently. By making a move now, Mel Gibson clearly wanted to use a scandal to ruin Duke and his movie. Braveheart was already one of the hot favorites for the Oscar; if the director of Saving Private Ryan was hit with a massive, shocking scandal, it would inevitably sway the choices of many Academy voters. It might even cause the film to crash and burn entirely.

Perhaps personal scandals hadn't changed the Oscar judges' impressions of many other directors, but Duke was different. Through and through, he was a textbook commercial film director.

That breed of director was already unpopular with that bunch of old men. If Mel Gibson...

Since Mel Gibson was in such a desperate hurry to win Best Director, Duke felt he'd be doing the Australian savage a disservice if he didn't step up and sabotage him.