America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

Chapter 138: Chapter 138: Watching the Show (Please Subscribe)



The damp sand stuck to his face as Eric struggled desperately, the person on top seemed to be applying the weight of a thousand pounds, making it hard for him to move at all.

Bruce ran over, reminding, "Martin!"

Martin looked up and saw Blake in a blue tank top and white shorts running towards them.

But he didn't let go of Eric, who knew if this guy would go crazy once up.

Blake sprinted all the way, shouting, "Stop fighting, stop it!"

Seeing Bruce arrive first, Martin let go of Eric and stepped back.

Old Cloth stood right by his side.

Martin turned his gaze to Blake, slightly scrutinizing.

Eric got up, turned towards Martin, and Blake rushed over, pushing him away.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded loudly, "Eric, what are you trying to do? Why did you attack Martin?"

Eric pointed to the sand on his face, "Are you mistaken? I'm your brother, and it's the other person who attacked me."

Hearing this, Martin suddenly remembered the audition for "Lord of War."

Blake pushed Eric again, keeping him away from Martin, "I saw everything; you were the first to hit."

Eric admitted, "I was the first to hit, why did I attack him? Because I'm your brother, I have to protect you!"

Blake rolled her eyes, with Eric's brain, who's protecting whom?

Bruce wanted to intervene, but Martin stopped him; it was best for them to watch the siblings' dispute like bystanders.

It's a pity they didn't bring cola and sunflower seeds.

Bruce was quite helpless; Martin was such a disagreeable character.

Blake stepped in front of her brother and asked, "Why?"

Eric said, "The whole crew is talking, saying he forced his way into your room!" He shouted at Martin, "Back in Los Angeles, I'll definitely report..."

Before he could finish, the script in Blake's hand smacked into his face, "Where did you hear that from?"

Martin raised his phone, "I'm recording, and I'll sue you for slander, no joke!"

He wasn't foolish; why would he choose a beach to rehearse? And how could he randomly enter someone else's room?

Blake turned back, giving Martin an apologetic smile, "Let's not rehearse today, I'm really sorry." She pointed at Eric, "I'll deal with him first, he might have misunderstood."

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The beach wasn't just for them; there were others around, and some people had started to look over.

Blake didn't want to be the center of attention.

"You go ahead," Martin said, seeing there was no more drama to watch, picked up his script, and signaled Bruce to leave first.

Blake pulled Eric down another path.

Eric wouldn't stop talking, "Don't pull me, don't block me, are you trying to protect that bastard?"

Blake dragged him forward by the T-shirt with force, "You really are an idiot, I'm protecting you!"

At this, she remembered Vogel, who was bitten by a rattlesnake and might suffer lifelong consequences, and pulled harder, "You have no idea who he really is!"

Eric kept mumbling, "I've trained before, I could fight him all day!"

Blake thought to herself that the last person who bragged about his fighting skills was still in the hospital.

Once inside the hotel lobby, she pulled Eric to a deserted spot in the rest area and ordered two cold drinks.

Eric took a tissue and wiped the sand off his face.

Blake inquired, "What's going on? Give me an explanation!"

Facing his assertive sister, Eric took a sip of the cold drink before he said, "Everyone in the crew is saying you've been with Martin..."

"What a joke," Blake crossed her arms, "I might like to, but he's more scared than a mouse, he wouldn't dare touch me."

Eric was very surprised, "Really nothing?"

Blake insisted, "Absolutely nothing; we were just rehearsing on the beach, discussing the role. Him entering my room? Coward!"

She was smarter than her brother and, having just witnessed a rattlesnake fight, she was somewhat evolved and suspected there was more to the situation. She probed, "Who told you those things?"

Eric didn't want to say and defended, "She only told me out of kindness, nothing else."

"Is your head this big?" Blake drew a circle with her fingers, smaller than a walnut, staring at Eric intensely, "Who exactly is she? Should I call dad?"

Hearing 'dad', Eric backed down, "A Mexican woman, named Aisha Rosalind."

Blake took out her phone and dialed Brad's assistant's number, her voice especially sweet, "Sister Gail, it's me. I need a little help. Is there a Mexican actress in the crew named Aisha Rosalind?"

The other side asked her to wait for a moment, then quickly replied, "Yes, she plays a minor role, her contact information is..."

Blake took note of it, said thanks, and hung up, "You go find her, fish for more info to see if there's anyone else. And don't tell me you can't do it. Can you seduce her? And don't sleep with her, unless you want to end up in a Mexican jail, then forget I said anything."

"I'm going to change and take a shower," Eric said as he got up to leave.

Blake reminded him, "I'll wait here for you."

Half an hour passed, and Eric came out of the elevator, back at the resting place, and said, "Aisha heard others talking in the changing room; she only heard the words, didn't see anyone."

Blake retorted, "Idiot with no brains!"

Eric held his head, "Why does this have to be so complicated."

"I'm going to find Martin." Blake left the lounge, took the elevator upstairs, and came to Martin's suite. He knocked on the door.

The door opened, and Bruce saw her and said to the inside, "Blake is here."

Martin said, "Please come in."

Blake entered the living room, saw the heartthrob drinking, and felt inexplicably relaxed. She couldn't help but smile, "Give me a glass."

Martin, however, moved the bottle and glass away, "Your big brother would kill me."

Thinking of her idiotic older brother, Blake explained, "He will come to you tomorrow to apologize; he was used by someone this time, a Mexican actress named Aisha..."

She quickly recounted the story.

Martin remembered Aisha. He enjoyed watching actress catfights, could even bring his own Coke and sunflower seeds, but being forcibly dragged into one, of course, didn't feel good.

Blake knew that the goodwill she had worked hard to build had dwindled.

When Martin had nothing to do, he liked to show off a little. He deliberately said, "I shot a lot of action scenes in 'The Hills Have Eyes,' and I was hoping to have some peace and quiet here to rest properly. I didn't expect to run into this mess."

Blake heard the meaning behind Martin's words, "I won't let that bitch get away with it, just wait and watch the drama unfold."

Martin replied, "Then I'll be waiting."

Blake said her goodbyes and left. Bruce closed the door and came back, saying, "I heard Hollywood women make even better spectacles when they fight?"

Martin thought for a moment, "I suppose so?"

Bruce didn't believe it, "A bunch of little girls."

......

The next morning, after shooting a few scenes, Martin came back to rest and Blake waved him over.

Bruce whispered, "Is it starting? I'm a bit excited. Pulling hair or ripping clothes?"

Martin replied, "It's not as lowbrow as what you're suggesting, using such cheap tactics."

The jeans project was, after all, a joint venture pushed through by Blake's father, Ernie-Levitt. Producer Brad and director Capisce had very good private relations with the Levitt family.

Thus, Blake chose the simplest and most convenient approach.

She found producer Brad and said, "Uncle, someone from Mexico in the crew is spreading rumors about Martin and me, causing me a lot of trouble. If it gets back to Los Angeles, it's going to be a mess for both Martin and me."

Since the main cast didn't include any Mexicans, Brad replied directly, "Just tell me who it is, tell Gail, and get her out."

"Thank you, Uncle." Blake said with a smile, "Once we're back in Los Angeles, you must come to my house as a guest. I know where Dad keeps the good liquor."

Brad chuckled, "It's a deal then."

Blake found Brad's assistant, Gail, and said a few more words to her.

That very morning, right on set, Gail called the agents of the Mexican actresses and informed them that Aisha was being expelled from the crew.

"I suggest you handle it strictly, as she has caused a lot of trouble on set." Gail only hinted at the consequences, "My boss is a senior member of the Hollywood Producers Guild. If you don't handle this well, no crew will work with you in the future."

The agent replied, "I will give you a satisfactory answer."

He had people take Aisha away, and as they left the set, he told a subordinate, "Send her to Tijuana Vice Street, let the crew know, and let others know as well - dreaming of America is fine, but don't cause trouble for me!"

In the lounge, Martin and Bruce were enjoying the show as spectators.

Bruce sighed, "No technique at all."

Martin, on the other hand, said, "Simple and convenient."

When the crew wrapped up for the morning, word got out that Aisha had been kicked out. Erica sneaked over to Blake to snitch.

She was prepared mentally and said, "When Amour brought up the topic, she kept talking about you. I just followed her lead and chatted with her for a bit. When I left, I saw Aisha in the next room, but I never imagined it would turn out like this."

Blake nodded slightly, with a seemingly gentle demeanor, "Since you've come to me directly, I won't hold against you what you said."

Erica insisted on her innocence, "It was all Amour talking; I just agreed with her a little. As soon as I heard about Aisha's situation, I hurried over to find you."

Blake suddenly had an idea, "I could take you in as a member of my sisterhood, but you need to do something for me."

"Really?" Erica was ecstatic, "What do you want me to do?"

Blake whispered a few words in a hushed voice.

At noon, the crew had lunch together in the cafeteria, still buffet style.

Martin and Bruce found a quiet spot and leisurely enjoyed their Mexican barbecue.

Blake came over with her tray and sat next to Martin, whispering, "The show is about to start, look over at Amour."

Martin and Bruce turned their heads to look in that direction.

Amour was dining at the same table with Erica when she turned her head to look at someone passing by. Erica lifted her plate and dumped it on Amour's head.

Gravy, sauce, and salad all flowed down from Amour's hair.

Amour turned her head back, looking at Erica in astonishment.

"That bitch secretly touched my private parts!" After the physical assault, came the psychological attack, Erica clutched her abdomen, "She harassed me..."

Caught by surprise, Amour froze for a moment.

Erica screamed shrilly, bursting into tears, pointing at Amour, "I thought you were my friend, but you harassed me!"

And just like that, the little boat of friendship capsized.


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