Chapter 404: Record Maker

The black Bentley pulled up in front of the Petit Ermitage Hotel in West Hollywood. Duke got out with his assistant and agent and headed inside. As they stepped into the private elevator lobby, Nancy Josephson seemed somewhat impressed.

"He actually booked the entire rooftop. What an extravagant move," she said.

Duke remained indifferent and walked straight into the elevator. Where they met didn't matter at all; what mattered was the content of their discussion.

The private elevator went straight to the rooftop of the Petit Ermitage Hotel—a sky garden brimming with lush natural greenery, complete with a heated saltwater pool, gazebos, a sunken outdoor fireplace, and both indoor and outdoor lounge areas, offering a 360-degree panoramic view of the Hollywood Hills.

"Hi, Duke..."

Just as Duke stepped out of the elevator lobby, Christophe Rocancourt, whom he had met once before, came forward to greet him and offered his right hand. "Long time no see."

The man wore a passionate smile, and Duke smiled just as brightly as he shook his hand. "Yes, Chris. It's been a while."

Christophe Rocancourt greeted Tina Fey and Nancy Josephson as well, then led the way. "This way, please."

The three of them followed him past the swimming pool, up a short flight of steps, and into an open-air reception lounge.

The open-air lounge was styled in bark brown—the floor, sofas, and outdoor fireplace all shared the same hue—and directly across from the sofas lay the lush woods of the Hollywood Hills. The view was stunning.

"I had no idea West Hollywood had a place like this."

Settling into a wide armchair, Duke looked around. "I never even knew it was here."

"That's because all your time and energy go into making movies," Christophe Rocancourt said, slipping in a smooth compliment.

A waiter brought over black tea, coffee, and pastries. Duke asked for a cup of black tea and drew his gaze back from the Hollywood Hills.

He glanced around the lounge again as the waiter quickly withdrew. Unlike Duke, who had brought his assistant and agent along, Christophe Rocancourt was completely alone.

Duke had no time to beat around the bush and got straight to the point. "Chris, I'm very interested in both your script and your proposal."

"It's an honor," Christophe Rocancourt said, showing just the right touch of pleasant surprise before his tone shifted. "However, Duke, I can't sign this project over completely. We can only do it as a partnership."

"With your Gallic Film Studio?" Nancy Josephson picked up the thread.

"Yes, forty percent of the investment is my bottom line!" Christophe Rocancourt was adamant, leaving no room for bargaining. "Gallic Film Studio must hold at least forty percent of the investment and profit share!"

"As far as I know, you can't come up with that kind of money."

Wrangling like this was naturally the agent's job, and Nancy Josephson didn't mince words. "If the film requires a budget of 160 million dollars, you'd need to put up 64 million dollars..."

Nancy left the rest unsaid, though her meaning was unmistakable: he didn't have that kind of net worth.

"True, 64 million dollars is an astronomical figure for me." Christophe Rocancourt didn't mind Nancy exposing his financial limits at all and said candidly, "I personally can't put up that sum, but don't forget, I have an extensive network in Hollywood."

"Ms. Josephson," he continued, maintaining his polite tone, "in fact, I've already raised 25 million dollars in initial funding. Once we find the right co-investor, combining my 25 million dollars with our partner's proportional upfront contribution will be more than enough to get this project off the ground."

The 160 million dollars listed in the proposal was only an estimated budget. No company or investor ever transferred the entire sum at once when producing a film.

If the two sides partnered up, adding Duke's initial capital would be more than enough to launch the project.

Nancy frowned. "Your terms are too harsh."

Christophe Rocancourt smiled, looking supremely confident. "My three conditions are the foundation of our partnership."

After that, Nancy Josephson launched into a drawn-out round of back-and-forth wrangling with him.

Duke listened and watched the entire time. Everything he saw and heard pointed to Christophe Rocancourt being a textbook Hollywood producer—brimming with confidence and carrying himself as if he could easily find another partner if they walked away.

'Was I really overthinking things?' He began to wonder if the impression he had gotten at their first meeting had been an illusion.

Nancy and Christophe Rocancourt talked for nearly an hour. Although they reached some common ground, plenty of disagreements remained, especially over the split for the investment and profit share.

Duke had never expected a major project like this to be settled in a single conversation anyway. If one meeting were enough to finalize everything, he would seriously question both Nancy's and Christophe Rocancourt's professionalism and intelligence.

"Duke, I really hope to work with you."

As they said their goodbyes, Christophe Rocancourt showed another side of the Hollywood persona, warm and enthusiastic. "I believe that if we team up, we'll create a miracle."

"I hope so too."

Duke shook his hand, then left with Nancy and Tina Fey.

Downstairs, after getting into his car, Duke frowned slightly, and Nancy Josephson asked, "Do you think we can work with him?"

She was leaning toward taking the deal.

"Keep talking with him." Duke's brows remained slightly furrowed.

Back up on the hotel rooftop, Jessica Alba cheerfully brought several prospective investors over to meet Christophe Rocancourt. Having all seen Duke in person, they were now even more determined to invest.

Back at Duke Manor, after Nancy Josephson had taken her leave, Tina Fey suddenly walked over to the housekeeper, Emma, and sent her away. She gave instructions that no one was to disturb them, then walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window to stand behind Duke.

"Something on your mind?" Duke had naturally seen all of this.

"Just something from my own past that might be worth considering." Tina Fey took a step forward to stand beside Duke in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the ocean. "I grew up in a rough, low-income neighborhood on the outskirts of Pennsylvania. A place like that... Duke, you've probably never been somewhere like it. It was chaotic and full of all kinds of crime."

Duke turned his head. Coming from a wealthy background, he had some awareness of the rougher side of society in North America, though he really hadn't spent much time in the slums. Still, he wasn't quite sure why Tina Fey was bringing this up.

Tina Fey smiled and went on, "Most people there grow up to repeat the same cycle, but a few use their ill-gotten gains to build a fortune. There was a man like that in my neighborhood. When I was around fourteen, he used the blood-stained wealth he'd amassed to launder his past and go legitimate. Later on, people looked into him, but going through lawyers, banks, and accountants turned up nothing useful at all."

"Where is he now?" Duke was beginning to catch her drift.

Hearing that, Tina Fey gave a playful shrug. "The FBI sent him to prison."

Duke laughed. "Thanks for the reminder."

He had been born into a well-off family in this life, and although he had run into his share of setbacks and difficulties over the past thirty years, things had largely gone smoothly. Living a privileged life for so long made it easy to overlook the sinister methods concealed beneath a polished surface.

Lawyers, accountants, and top-tier entertainment agents like Nancy were undeniably capable, but they weren't omnipotent...

The phone suddenly rang. Tina Fey walked over to the sofa, answered Duke's phone, exchanged a few words, and hurried back over. "It's Sofia."

"Hi, Sofia."

As soon as Duke took the mobile phone, he heard Sofia Coppola's slightly nasal voice. "Duke, I had lunch with Nicolas today. He asked me whether you were interested in directing an epic film about Napoleon?"

"I did receive a script like that," Duke joked casually. "Why, are you interested too?"

"Don't worry, I have no interest in stealing projects from you." She explained briefly, "Here's what happened. Nicolas's investment manager and accountant heard from somewhere that you're planning to partner with someone on this project, and they've been urging Nicolas to invest in it. He hasn't been in touch with you for years and felt awkward asking you directly, so he came to me instead. Since you are interested, his 15 million dollar investment shouldn't go down the drain..."

It was an ordinary enough piece of news. Duke already knew Christophe Rocancourt didn't have enough funds, so there was nothing strange about him pitching investors everywhere. Even using Duke's name wasn't unusual in Hollywood—leveraging a potentially attached director or actor to attract financing happened all the time.

Only... why did something feel off to him?

"Wait, Sofia," he interrupted her over the line. "By Nicolas, do you mean Cage?"

After The Rock, the two of them had barely stayed in touch; by now, they were little more than strangers.

"Yeah, my cousin, Nicolas Coppola... well, he also goes by Nicolas Cage."

He had once been one of the biggest male stars across the ocean, and his life story was widely known. A flood of memories came back to Duke in an instant, and he asked to confirm, "You're saying Nicolas's accountant and investment manager are urging him to invest in that project I'm looking at?"

"That's right."

Duke finally realized what was wrong. If he remembered correctly, Nicolas Cage's investment manager and accountant were practically con artists. When Cage eventually wound up buried in debt and became the undisputed king of bad movies, the people managing his finances were heavily to blame, even if the law couldn't touch them.

And now, Nicolas Cage's financial advisors were recommending that he invest in this project Duke was considering?

"Sofia, no matter what, do not invest in this project!"

Whether Cage sank or swam was none of his business. After warning Sofia Coppola, Duke hung up and stood there thinking for a moment. The doubts that Christophe Rocancourt's polished performance had pushed down were beginning to surface again.

Turning his head and seeing Tina Fey standing right beside him, Duke recalled what she had just told him and made up his mind.

"Tina, have someone contact the Eye of Hollywood, Anthony Pellicano..."

If his suspicions proved true, having someone come knocking on his door and use his name like that was something Duke would never tolerate. "And get in touch with Sheriff Carter at the Los Angeles County Police Department..."