Chapter 206: Each Has Their Own Plans

"Mel."

At the crisp female voice, Mel Gibson turned. Seeing Sophie Marceau approaching, he asked immediately, "How did it go?"

"I've set it up with him. We're just waiting for the party to end." Sophie Marceau leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice to remind him, "Don't forget your promise."

With that, she waved over a passing waiter, took two glasses from his tray, and handed one to Mel Gibson. "Aren't you going to wish me success?"

Looking at the golden liquor, Mel Gibson found it a bit odd. Why did she prefer something as strong as whiskey? But this was no time to dwell on that; letting Sophie Marceau charge into battle for him was what mattered.

They clinked glasses and downed half their whiskey in one gulp.

Perhaps he had had a bit too much to drink tonight. Watching Sophie Marceau walk away, Mel Gibson could almost see Duke Rosenberg being hauled off by the Los Angeles Police for sexual assault. He pictured Duke completely ruined in a storm of scandalous press, ultimately forced into a state prison...

It was a beautiful scenario, wasn't it?

A smile tugged at the corners of the tipsy Mel Gibson's mouth.

"Hi, Mel."

Another greeting rang out. Mel Gibson looked up to see tonight's Best Actor, Nicolas Cage. He had no choice but to shake the extended hand. "Hello, Nicolas."

"Congratulations on winning Best Director."

Seeing Nicolas Cage raise his glass in a toast, Mel Gibson muttered an apology, quickly waved over a waiter, and grabbed a random glass of red wine. He clinked glasses with Cage, who immediately drained his in one gulp. Mel Gibson had no choice but to finish his own.

After his polite congratulations, Nicolas didn't leave; instead, he stood there watching him. Mel Gibson gently patted his own forehead, his alcohol-clouded brain reacting a bit slowly. The man was Best Actor; he was waiting for the customary pleasantries in return.

At events like this, wasn't trading mutual flattery all about face?

Calling for two more glasses of wine, Mel Gibson toasted Nicolas Cage once again. After the man walked away, he couldn't help but let out a drunken hiccup.

Not far away, Tom Cruise declined the advances of a few women. His watchful gaze occasionally swept over the Australian savage.

In Tom Cruise's mind, there were currently two people he truly despised. Second place went to Duke Rosenberg, and first place belonged to Mel Gibson.

The most unbearable thing for a man was always the possibility of being cuckolded without even realizing it.

Duke Rosenberg was currently collaborating with him on a new movie. As this was his flagship project for the year, they were temporary partners. Using Duke to deal with Mel Gibson gave Tom Cruise absolutely no guilty conscience.

Even though he didn't know Duke Rosenberg's trump card—and the director had absolutely no intention of telling him—Tom Cruise still decided to play along. He only needed to drink a few glasses with Mel Gibson. Even if it didn't achieve the desired effect in the end, he had nothing to lose.

And if it did work?

Tom Cruise couldn't help but recall the methods Duke Rosenberg had used to smear him. That young director was a demon.

One after another, people kept coming over to toast Mel Gibson. Even though the Australian savage only took small sips, Tom Cruise could tell the guy was already getting drunk.

Hesitating no longer, Tom Cruise walked straight toward Mel Gibson.

"Hi, Mel."

With a little prompting, Tom Cruise was a smart man. Following Duke's plan, he played his part perfectly. "Congratulations on winning Best Director."

"Tom!"

Seeing it was Tom Cruise, with whom he had parted on bad terms last time, Mel Gibson raised his voice slightly, though he managed to restrain himself. Suppressing his displeasure, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"We had a bit of an argument last time, but that was strictly business."

Knowing the other man was about to suffer, Tom Cruise suppressed his own distaste and added, "That shouldn't affect our personal relationship, right?"

Taking the initiative to bow his head, Tom Cruise took two glasses of champagne from a waiter and offered a toast. The Australian savage's expression softened considerably; after all, making Tom Cruise willingly back down gave him plenty of face.

"Want to find a place to chat in private?"

When Mel Gibson raised no objection, Tom Cruise pointed toward the banquet hall's bar. "Why don't we grab a drink? I'd like to talk to you about some of the friction between me and Duke Rosenberg. I know you aren't fond of him either, so maybe we..."

Cruise shrugged.

"Tom, you shouldn't be working with him!"

Mel Gibson repeated his old argument, and this time, Tom Cruise didn't disagree. "I'm starting to feel the same way. I'm thinking of tearing up my acting contract, but the penalty fee is an issue. Maybe you could give me some advice."

Following Tom Cruise's lead, the two walked over to the bar, found a slightly quieter spot, and sat on high stools to freely chat about what a bastard Duke Rosenberg was.

When it came to hating Duke, Mel Gibson definitely ranked in Hollywood's top five. Exchanging quiet ideas with Tom Cruise on how to deal with the director brought him a profound sense of exhilaration, as if the man were already finished. However, his alcohol-clouded brain entirely failed to notice that Tom Cruise had ordered a full bottle of whiskey and was continuously toasting him.

Perhaps Mel Gibson didn't know the phrase that a thousand cups of wine with a confidant are never enough, but under Tom Cruise's deliberate flattery, he downed several glasses of high-proof whiskey in a row. He was a heavy drinker, and once a man like that got tipsy, he would never admit to being drunk. As long as someone was egging him on, he would just keep drinking.

Standing in the distance, Duke was chatting with Sophie Marceau, but from the corner of his eye, he monitored the bar. Nicolas Cage, Tom Cruise, and the others had all done brilliantly, even if they had no idea what his goal was.

"Martin Bob was asked out by Eno Martin to discuss business tonight, and Gibson's assistant was taken out for coffee by my assistant a while ago." Sophie Marceau looked at Duke. She didn't know whether these things were mere coincidence or if someone had meticulously planned them, so she simply whispered, "Everyone here knows Mel Gibson loves his alcohol, and they know his temper. No one is going to stop him."

Duke could see that without Sophie Marceau telling him. This was Hollywood. Everyone thought of themselves first; who would stick their noses into other people's business for no reason? Besides the fact that the person being interfered with rarely appreciated it, it was more likely to end in conflict.

"What are you planning to do?" Sophie Marceau probed quietly.

There was no guarantee of success with this sort of thing.

Duke simply shook his head. "Just watch."

With that, he abruptly changed the subject. "How did you like the Videotape I edited? My dear, you are truly beautiful."

Upon receiving that Videotape, Sophie Marceau had let go of her last shred of wishful thinking. While fighting to the bitter end wasn't entirely impossible—her uninhibited reputation was hardly a secret, after all—Duke's demands weren't excessive, and she could still emerge completely unscathed. No matter how she looked at it, cooperation was a far better deal than resistance.

"Duke..."

Suddenly, Sophie Marceau grabbed his hand, looking at him with an incredibly sincere gaze, as if speaking directly from her soul. "Let me be your girlfriend, all right? I'll make up for all my mistakes."

Duke couldn't tell if she was acting, but after everything that had happened, agreeing to it would mean having water in the brain.

Looking away from Sophie Marceau, Duke kept his focus on Mel Gibson. There was movement now. Clearly having drank too much, Mel Gibson waved off Tom Cruise's renewed invitation, stood up, and left the bar. Weaving through the scattered clusters of guests, he staggered toward the restrooms.

Calculating the route the drunken Mel Gibson would likely take, Duke headed in that direction. Along the way, he waved to a few people who greeted him, drawing steadily closer to Mel Gibson.

His sharp gaze swept quickly across his surroundings, and a faint smile touched the corners of his mouth. Duke selected a spot that wasn't too crowded but was occupied by media figures like Tina Brown and David Firth, alongside several School members of Jewish descent. Stepping directly into Mel Gibson's path, he strode boldly over.

In that moment, Duke displayed a director's brilliant sense of coordination. Whether it was the timing, the mark, or the pace, he nailed it all perfectly. Positioned just on the outer edge of that specific crowd, he bumped right into Mel Gibson.

"Mel, I didn't expect to run into you again!"

Just before they collided, Duke came to a halt, leaving a gap of about five feet between them. "What a coincidence."

Mel Gibson had spotted Duke, but he had no intention of dodging him. He was tonight's winner; was there any need to give way to a loser?

"Loser!" The breath he puffed out was thick with the stench of alcohol.

Raising his right hand to gently fan the air in front of his nose, Duke said, "The one who wins the Oscar is the true winner of the awards season!"

"You'll win an Oscar?" Mel Gibson's face was filled with disdain. "I've won Best Director at practically every bellwether event this awards season! On what grounds could you win?"

With that, he took a step forward, evidently intending to use his height to intimidate. "On what grounds... could you win?"

Duke didn't give an inch. Staring straight back with a sharp gaze, he said in a voice only the two of them could hear, "On the grounds that you and your father are Nazis! That you are extremists!"

"You..."

At Duke's words, Mel Gibson's alcohol-fueled brain instantly boiled over, and his temper flared.

But before he could act, Duke hissed out another whisper. "On the grounds that I am of Jewish descent! On the grounds that I am inherently a member of the Hollywood Jewish Club! On the grounds that every Jewish person in Hollywood will despise a Nazi like you..."