Chapter 316: Ambition
Chapter 316: Ambition
She must have seen wrong. How could it possibly have been him?
The spoon reached her lips. Weakly, she opened her mouth. The warm liquid slid down her throat into her stomach, immediately making her feel much better. But after only a few sips, her stomach churned violently. She dry-heaved twice before feeling her body lifted again. Moments later, she was already bent over the toilet.
The gentle pats against her back finally made her unable to hold back any longer, and all the alcohol she had poured into herself that night came spilling out.
…
After coming out of the bathroom, Eric patiently fed the woman the rest of the hangover soup. Only after wiping the corner of her lips did he finally stand up.
Behind him, Famke and Sofia were both looking at Eric with complicated expressions.
“Eric, you’re so considerate. If only my future boyfriend could treat me like this,” Sofia said frankly after seeing Eric finally finish.
Although Famke Janssen said nothing, the jealousy in her gaze had faded somewhat, replaced instead with a trace more tenderness.
Eric smiled, wiped his hands with a towel, then said to Sofia Coppola, “Sofia, can she stay here for the night? She already threw up all the alcohol in her stomach just now, so she definitely won’t vomit on your bed anymore.”
Sofia Coppola asked in surprise, “You’re not taking her back with you?”
The moment the words left her mouth, the girl suddenly remembered there was another woman in the room and quickly covered her mouth.
Eric explained, “Actually, I haven’t seen her for a year. We’re not the kind of relationship you’re imagining.”
“Wow,” Sofia Coppola exclaimed, suddenly not knowing what to say.
Famke Janssen, meanwhile, quietly let out a sigh of relief.
“Then let her sleep here. I’ll make do in a guest room tonight,” Sofia Coppola quickly said.
After thanking her, Eric ignored the strange looks from the two women, picked up Jennifer Connelly’s handbag from beside the bed, and took out a small address book from inside.
After flipping through it for a while, Eric quickly picked up the bedside phone and dialed Jennifer Connelly’s agent.
“Hello, Jim Lester… This is Eric Williams. Are you in Los Angeles right now? …Good. Tomorrow morning at ten, come to Firefly Films headquarters. We need to talk about Jennifer Connelly… Alright then. Goodbye.”
After hanging up, Eric casually flipped through the address book again. Soon, he found a particular page.
That page was obviously different from the others. It seemed to have been rubbed over countless times. Even the corners had worn away. Yet written clearly on it was the phone number of his Beverly Hills mansion.
Smiling faintly, Eric closed the address book and returned it to the woman’s white handbag.
“Famke, we should go,” Eric said as he stood up and looked once more at the sleeping Jennifer Connelly before pulling the tall woman beside him along. “Famke, we should go.”
After instructing a maid to remain in the room and take care of Jennifer Connelly, Sofia Coppola followed Eric and Famke outside.
“You’re not staying to play a little longer? It’s still early,” she said.
“No. By the time we drive back to Malibu, it’ll already be after eleven,” Eric replied after checking his watch.
The girl did not insist further. After going downstairs, Eric bid farewell to Francis Coppola and the others one by one before leaving with Famke Janssen.
An hour later, after parking the car in the garage of Point Manor, Eric led the woman into the villa. Tugging lightly at his tie, he turned to the woman, who was curiously observing the surroundings, and said, “Sorry, Famke. Tonight must’ve been a bit disappointing.”
“Not at all. I thought it was pretty nice.”
The woman looked at Eric with a smiling expression.
In the past, as a not particularly famous model, she would never have had the chance to attend this kind of party.
Seeing Eric walk toward the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the sea in the main hall, the woman followed after him. After several steps, she could not help saying, “Your place is really huge. It doesn’t feel like somewhere people actually live… No, I mean, it doesn’t feel lived in. It feels more like a library or museum or something.”
Eric paid no attention to the slip in her wording.
He carried a pot of coffee to the round table beside the windows, then casually turned off all the lights in the hall.
The sudden darkness made the woman cry out softly.
“Hey…”
But soon her eyes adjusted. She realized faint light was filtering in from outside the glass windows.
Walking over to the window, she looked outside. Below lay the dark ocean surface. A few stars dotted the night sky around a full moon, carrying a peaceful kind of beauty.
“So, what do you think?” Eric asked softly as he sat in the hanging egg-shaped chair beside the round table and poured coffee for the two of them.
The woman carefully leaned against the window and admired the night scenery for a while before sighing softly.
“It’s beautiful. I take back what I said earlier. This really is a place people should live in. The apartment I rent in Burbank can’t see scenery like this at all. Cars passing by all night make it impossible to sleep.”
Eric leaned back slightly and looked appreciatively at the woman sitting opposite him in another hanging egg chair, lightly swaying while holding the coffee cup he had handed her.
The woman was still wearing that rose-red dress. As the skirt fluttered with her movements, her fair bare feet occasionally appeared beneath the hem after she had removed her high heels. Her tall body leaned against the white egg-shaped chair, creating an extremely beautiful scene.
Eric suddenly felt the urge to photograph her.
After admiring her for a while, he finally spoke.
“If you like it, you can stay here.”
Hearing this, Famke Janssen’s gentle swinging stopped.
Her expression clearly showed temptation, but she quickly shook her head.
“If I lived here, I wouldn’t even know what position to place myself in.”
“I remember this afternoon in the office, you said I was too soft-hearted.”
“Hm?”
Eric ignored the confusion in the woman’s eyes and continued:
“After seeing Jennifer Connelly again tonight, I suddenly regretted letting her leave last year.”
“Ah?”
“Do you know Howard Hughes?” Eric asked.
Famke Janssen tilted her head and thought for a moment before shaking it.
“No.”
Eric paused before remembering that the woman was not American. She had been born in the Netherlands and only came to America as an adult. Not knowing Howard Hughes was understandable.
Since she did not know him, Eric explained:
“Howard Hughes was one of Hollywood’s greatest filmmakers, and also one of its greatest playboys. The women he pursued covered almost every famous top-tier actress in Hollywood during the 1930s and 1940s. Katharine Hepburn, Bette Davis, Susan Hayward, Gene Tierney, Rita Hayworth, Ava Gardner…”
“Maybe you haven’t heard many of those names before. But if you look them up, you’ll discover that every single one of them was labeled ‘the brightest’ or ‘the greatest’ actress. One magazine once revealed that Howard Hughes had as many as one hundred and sixty-four girlfriends at one point, with women hidden away all across Los Angeles…”
Famke Janssen listened as Eric recounted Howard Hughes’s glorious “history” almost like telling a story.
Moreover, the more he spoke, the more admiration, longing, and even fanaticism seemed to fill his tone.
The woman could not help parting her lips slightly. Taking advantage of a pause in Eric’s speech, she finally interrupted:
“You… you’re not thinking of becoming like him, are you?”
Eric’s words halted briefly before he replied with unwavering fanaticism:
“Why not? In terms of achievement, at my current age I’ve already surpassed Howard Hughes at the same age by far. Besides, he inherited his father’s fortune, while I started from nothing. In terms of wealth, I’ll definitely become richer than him in the future. In terms of status, I have Firefly. Within a few years, that film company will enter the ranks of the major studios. So why not?”
“But… but…”
“There are no buts.”
Eric suddenly waved his hand sharply.
“I’ve decided. From now on, any woman I like, I’ll absolutely keep firmly in my grasp no matter what methods I have to use.”
Famke Janssen instinctively shrank slightly deeper into the hanging chair.
“I… I’m not one of them, am I?”
A trace of wickedness entered Eric’s tone.
“What do you think?”
“I… I haven’t decided yet,” the woman said. Her mind was already dizzy from the utterly worldview-shattering speech Eric had just delivered.
“Come here.”
A hint of temptation lingered in Eric’s low voice.
Hearing those words, the woman subconsciously put down her coffee cup and walked over to him.
Only after stopping in front of him did she suddenly react. Turning to look behind herself, she became confused about why she had become so obedient.
She wanted to retreat, but Eric had already wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his embrace.
“If you haven’t decided yet, then think about it slowly. For now, let’s do what should be done first,” Eric whispered beside her ear.
Feeling Eric’s hands moving across her body, Famke Janssen immediately tensed up.
Soon afterward, however, the woman remembered something else and quickly said:
“D-Don’t wrinkle the dress.”
The instant the words fell, the sound of tearing fabric rang out.
“I told you already. You won’t be able to return it.”
Eric blew warmly against the woman’s ear again. Feeling the cool air against her exposed back, Famke Janssen gasped sharply before pounding hard against the man’s chest.
“Bastard. Forty thousand dollars.”
The woman still wanted to complain more, but her lips were quickly sealed.
After a series of muffled sounds, the two bodies soon tumbled out of the hanging chair together.
Fortunately, a carpet covered the floor there, so although the woman’s dress had already been torn to pieces, she did not feel cold.
After a while, the woman felt herself lifted by the man’s strong arms. After several steps, she was pressed somewhat roughly against the cool glass window.
The man’s lips traveled slowly up her bare back to her neck. The woman instinctively turned her head, and the two kissed once more.
Pulling the woman’s hips backward into position, Eric paused just before entering her.
Only then did he release her lips and whisper beside her ear:
“Have you thought it through yet?”
“Hm? Ah… hurry… hurry already…”
The woman, already stirred into desire, murmured as she reached one hand backward. Just as her fingers touched something, both her arms were suddenly pulled upward and firmly pinned against the glass window.
“Have you thought it through yet?” Eric asked softly again.
“You really are a tyrant,” the woman weakly complained as she twisted her waist.
Eric showed no intention of yielding. One hand restrained both her wrists above her head while the other continued teasing her from below.
Leaning close to her ear again, he whispered:
“Have you thought it through yet?”
“Mmph…”
The woman let out a soft cry somewhere between a sob and a moan. Her pale face pressed against the glass window.
After struggling stubbornly for a little longer, she finally surrendered.
“I’ve thought it through. I’ll be your woman. Yours.”
A satisfied moan soon echoed through the empty hall.
…
Her whole body felt soft and comfortable, yet also exhausted.
She did not want to open her eyes at all.
Still, she vaguely felt she had something she needed to do.
What was it?
Her hazy thoughts slowly circled before finally landing on the answer.
Work.
Right. She was filming a television series.
If she was late, she would get scolded.
Then she suddenly sat upright.
The thin blanket slid off her body, revealing her full breasts. Scratching her hair and rubbing her eyes, Famke Janssen finally saw her surroundings clearly.
It was an enormous bedroom.
Windows surrounded all four sides, all of them open now. The morning sunlight streamed inside, making the room dazzlingly bright, yet there was no dust floating through the air beneath the light.
Very quickly, she remembered everything from last night.
It felt like a dream.
But how could it possibly be a dream?
Oh no.
It seemed she had agreed to certain things.
The woman muttered to herself and climbed out of bed barefoot.
Not seeing her own clothes nearby, she searched the wardrobe instead and pulled out one of Eric’s shirts to wear. Since she and Eric were nearly the same height, the shirt barely covered her hips, leaving her long legs completely exposed. As she walked, glimpses of the scenery between them occasionally appeared.
Curiously, she wandered around the bedroom once before noticing the Burbank city area to the north.
The densely packed little villas somehow looked… ridiculous.
Well, she did not know why she felt that way either.
Walking to the other side, she saw the sun already risen high. The sea and sky merged into one endless stretch of deep blue, impossibly beautiful.
After hesitating in the bedroom for several minutes, the woman opened the wardrobe again and searched through it once more before slamming the door shut.
“Why are there only shirts? There isn’t even a pair of pants.”
Looking down at her current appearance and glancing at the bedside clock, she saw it was already eight-thirty.
Driving from here to the filming location on the other side of the Santa Monica Mountains would take at least an hour.
She was definitely late.
But surely nobody would dare scold her today, right?
Thinking this, she felt oddly smug.
Although her acting was terrible, nobody had ever scolded her before.
The reason she always worried about being scolded seemed to be because that guy named Brad Pitt was always getting yelled at, even though his acting was far better than hers.
Much better.
Thinking of that figure, she quickly understood why.
For some reason, her heart suddenly felt sweet.
Then she followed the stairs downstairs.
Peeking cautiously into the hall, she called out softly. If anyone saw her dressed like this, it would be disastrous.
“Famke, you’re awake. Wow.”
Eric had just finished his usual workout and shower. Wrapped in a towel, he emerged just in time to see the woman peeking around nervously from the staircase.
From below, the scenery between the woman’s legs was perfectly visible.
Seeing Eric’s lecherous expression, Famke Janssen helplessly tugged at the hem of the shirt and complained again:
“Why are there only shirts in your bedroom wardrobe? Not even a pair of pants.”
Eric teased her shamelessly:
“Specifically so I could see this kind of scene.”
“Pah, bastard,” the woman cursed.
“Alright, Famke. I do have some of Drew’s clothes here, but you definitely won’t fit into them. You’ll just have to wear yesterday’s outfit for now. I’ll go get it. It should still be in the car.”
“Hurry up. Also, my… underwear.”
“Understood.”
As Eric turned and walked away, the woman hesitated on the staircase before carefully coming downstairs barefoot, wandering around the hall again.
Eric quickly returned with the bag containing her clothes and shoes and handed them over to her.
“You can shower while you’re at it,” he said, pointing toward the bathroom.
“Thank you.”
Famke Janssen accepted the bag and turned around, only to suddenly feel a slap against her backside.
“Ah! You jerk!”
The woman covered her rear and glared back at him reproachfully.
“Go already,” Eric said with absolutely no shame whatsoever, grinning as though tempted to do it again.
Seeing that expression, the woman immediately fled in defeat.
More than ten minutes later, the two sat together in the dining room.
Watching Eric eat breakfast while reading the newspaper across from her, Famke Janssen complained:
“I’m so late this morning that they definitely won’t be able to film anything.”
“Relax. It’ll be quick,” Eric replied without even lifting his head as he flipped a page of the newspaper.
“Driving from here to the set takes at least an hour. By the time I get there it’ll already be after ten. Then there’s makeup, set preparation, line rehearsals…”
The woman drank some milk while continuing to chatter endlessly.
“It won’t take that long. You’ll be late by at most half an hour.”
Famke Janssen shot him a disdainful glance.
“Hmph. Easy for you to say. What, am I supposed to fly there?”
Only then did Eric finally raise his head.
“I called a helicopter. It’ll take you there later. It won’t even take half an hour.”
The woman’s mouth opened slightly before she immediately shook her head vigorously.
“No, no. That’s way too flashy. If that happens, everyone will definitely… definitely…”
Eric grinned mischievously.
“That’s exactly the effect I want. I’m declaring ownership. Let’s see who still dares to make moves on you afterward.”
“You’re… completely unreasonable,” the woman retorted after freezing momentarily.
“Alright, baby. Whatever you say.”
Eric continued:
“Oh right. This afternoon a real estate agent will come see you. Didn’t you say yesterday that your apartment in Burbank was too noisy? Leave work a little early and let him take you to Beverly Hills to pick out a villa. I’ll notify the production crew.”
“I… I can’t afford to rent there right now,” the woman shook her head.
“Pick whichever one you like. Once you choose it, it’s yours. I’ll pay.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Hm. Then you can buy the furniture yourself. I won’t handle that part.”
“I don’t want it,” the woman repeated.
“Oh right. Do you want a car? How about a Lamborghini? Hmm… no. Lamborghinis are too aggressive-looking. I think Ferraris suit women better.”
As Eric spoke, he suddenly remembered the scene from GoldenEye where Famke Janssen drove a convertible Ferrari while racing Bond.
It had been unbelievably cool.
“Yeah. Ferrari. It’s decided.”
“…”