America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

Hearing the approaching sirens and seeing the lights getting closer, Cassie prepared to leave the place. He had just risen to run when someone grabbed his feet. Your next journey awaits at empire

The young man held onto Cassie's legs tightly with all his might, his face twisted either from exerting too much force or from the pain of being hit.

But he wouldn't let go no matter what!

In the eyes of the youth, Cassie Affleck was a walking million dollars!

"Let go of me, asshole!" Cassie kicked the young man in the face again.

The young man's nose was crooked, but his hands held on even tighter.

Then, Cassie noticed something: That young man who was sitting on the bench earlier, as if enjoying the scenery, had stood up at some point and was filming the scene with a home DV camera.

Two officers got out of the patrol car and ran towards them, hands on their holstered guns, shouting, "LAPD, let me see your hands!"

The young man lay on the ground and weakly shouted, "Help, help me!"

An LAPD officer covered from behind while another approached and took control of Cassie, twisting his hands behind his back and handcuffing him.

After checking on the young man's condition, the LAPD called an ambulance.

During the routine questioning at the scene, a tourist filming the seascape showed them a video he had captured of the incident.

From start to finish, the victim was being unilaterally beaten.

Although there weren't many tourists in the area, there were still over twenty or so people nearby, and the LAPD found even more witnesses.

Meanwhile, Lorraine was filming secretly, capturing the moment the ambulance took the victim away and Cassie was escorted into the police car by the LAPD before she left.

The Ford car near the pier also started up and left the dock area.

Nicholson made a phone call, and after hanging up, he burst into a smile: "Lorraine got everything on camera, and I've already contacted TMZ. She won't need to come to me for her allowance this month."

Leonardo joined in on the fun and asked, "That guy looks pretty badly hurt. As a conscientious member of society, I think it's necessary to provide him with legal assistance."

Martin gave the two a thumbs up: "Cassie is sure to thank you a thousand times in his heart."

Nicholson laughed, showing two rows of white teeth: "We are just that kind-hearted!"

Martin said, "Let's find a place to drink and celebrate."

Leonardo sped up the car.

As the incident involved a Hollywood star, the LAPD took it very seriously and handled it efficiently. Cassie, who was temporarily detained, soon met with his lawyer.

The lawyer brought some not-so-good news. Ian, who had been unilaterally beaten by Cassie, had a broken nasal bone and two cracked ribs, along with a dozen other minor injuries.

Cassie's lawyer was no ordinary person either, and he approached some acquaintances within the police department, hoping to work something out.

The police said they were helpless and suggested he watch TMZ.

TMZ had just released a video from a different angle showing Cassie beating the victim, filmed clearly from beginning to end.

At the same time, the victim's lawyer arrived at the police station.

The matter could no longer be resolved quietly.

Cassie's lawyer made multiple contacts and, after meeting with the victim's lawyer, he approached Cassie and suggested settling with money as soon as possible.

These matters get more troublesome the longer they drag on.

In the hospital room, Ian lay hooked up to an IV, his nose crooked to one side, his face covered in various bruises, and his whole body aching terribly.

But Ian was constantly laughing, exceptionally delighted, so much so that he'd never felt this exhilarated in over twenty years.

"Awesome!" With LAPD outside the room coming to take a statement, Ian could only suppress his voice, talking to himself excitedly: "Damn awesome, I'm going to strike it rich this time!"

He twisted the hospital bedsheet into a rope, silently calculating, "Medical expenses, lost wages, compensation for emotional distress—it has to be several hundred thousand dollars at least!"

Ian recalled his lawyer's words: "Right, I've been beaten to a pulp, leading to depression, and work will be an issue in the future. He has to pay, pay even more money!"

This deal was just too good.

He wasn't wrong—there was a walking million dollars.

......

Cassie Affleck was still detained at the police station, waiting to gather the bail money for his release.

Meanwhile, Martin, Leonardo, and Nicholson, were at Nicholson's mansion, awaiting Lorraine's arrival.

She appeared to have made a good haul and generously bought late-night snacks for the three men.

That night's snack tasted particularly good, with a flavor reminiscent of a big, white, sweet melon.

But before Martin could finish eating, a text message alert sounded on his phone; he took it out to look and saw only a string of numbers.

After a moment of recollection, Martin remembered—it was the room number for Taylor Swift's stay at a hotel in Los Angeles.

Clearly, Taylor Swift was reminding him.

Martin, a man who valued brotherhood, ignored the text and continued to dine and boast with Leonardo and Nicholson.

It wasn't long before Taylor Swift's call came directly through.

Martin went somewhere private to answer the phone, "Good evening, Taylor, what's up?"

Taylor got straight to the point, "Martin, I need your help. I just got some inspiration while writing a song, but it's not quite enough. Can you come over and boost my inspiration? It's urgent!"

Martin couldn't go against his principles, so he replied, "Just give me a moment, I'll be right over."

After hanging up, he said to Leonardo and Nicholson, "Something urgent's come up, I've got to go."

Nicholson had enjoyed the show today and was keenly interested, "If you have any new thoughts about Ben's issue, don't forget to tell me."

Martin waved, "No problem."

Since Nicholson's place wasn't far from the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, it didn't take long for Martin to drive into the hotel's underground parking garage and take the elevator to the floor Taylor was staying on.

Martin knocked on the door, and as soon as Taylor opened it, she pulled him inside.

"You're finally here, I've been waiting for you to boost my inspiration for so long."

"How should I go about stimulating your inspiration?" Martin, pressed against the door by Taylor, asked, "Should I sing a song and scare away all the wolves?"

"When people soar into the skies, their mind becomes blank, entering a whole new realm. As long as you get me to the clouds, I'm sure my inspiration will explode," Taylor suggested.

Martin was full of a sense of mission, "For the sake of adding another eternal classic to country music, I'm willing to give it my all!"

The two then delved into the profound artistic topics of boosting inspiration and songwriting.

During this time, Taylor's inspiration kept bursting forth, switching between various pitches and rhythms, singing out a song in fits and starts.

When inspiration was lacking, Taylor uttered an F-starting swear word.

But when her inspiration was supercharged, Taylor praised God in a high, powerful voice.

At such times, when one is at the peak of excitement, they may indeed feel something truly different.

So, after Taylor descended from the clouds, she immediately grabbed a pen and paper, writing some musical notes that Martin couldn't make head or tail of.

Seeing her genuinely in a creative rush, Martin didn't want to interrupt and went off to the restroom to take a shower by himself.

When he came out, Taylor was sitting on the floor, hugging her long legs, leaning against the side of the sofa, staring off into space.

Martin settled into an armchair, simply watching her.

Maybe because Taylor's debut wasn't too long ago and she had picked up fewer showbiz habits, Martin thought the curly-haired country girl looked way better than the former pop queen who had left the countryside.

Snapping out of it, Taylor didn't bother to dress. She just stood up and started pacing back and forth in the living room, occasionally scribbling in her notebook.

After a while, she asked Martin, "I heard one of your ex-girlfriends was a famous cheerleader captain?"

Martin knew whom she was talking about, "Blake Lively, the cheerleader captain at Burbank Middle School."

"Oh, I see. I watched 'The Summer of Jeans' and remember her looks," Taylor continued as she paced, "She has a top-notch figure, something even supermodels can't match."

Looking down at herself, she said, "Compared to her, I'm just like a country girl."

Martin said with a smile, "Everyone has their strengths, and you're no exception."

"Me? What are my strengths in your eyes?" Taylor inquired.

"A melodious and soothing voice, strong and agile legs," Martin was always honest, sharing his genuine thoughts, "and a special allure, as if it could capture one's soul."

Taylor burst into a cheerful smile, "I wrote a bit, want me to sing it to you?"

Martin, foreseeing himself becoming the legendary man in a Taylor song, smiled, "Sure."

Taylor grabbed her guitar, "Will you help me keep the rhythm later?"

Martin shook his head resolutely, "I know nothing about music."

Without insisting, Taylor picked up the pick and gently strummed the strings, the vibrant and lively melody flowing forth.

Without arrangement or formal planning, Taylor's vocals freely filled the air.

"You say you've spotted a pretty girl, what would you do facing this pretty girl? What should I do? She's wearing a short skirt, I'm in a T-shirt. She's the cheer captain, and I'm just sitting in the stands..."

The song suddenly stopped, and Taylor laughed sheepishly, "I've only written this much so far; the rest still needs to be filled in slowly."

Martin praised, "It's very pleasant to the ear, catchy. I believe when the song is finished, it will definitely make it to the Billboard charts."

Taylor had considerable confidence in her music, "It definitely will." She paused, then added, "After all, this is a song with the renowned Hollywood superstar Martin Davis as its protagonist, it's bound to become a classic."

Martin, the playboy he was, didn't care about these things: "Taylor, I've seen genius, witnessed first-hand how one writes a song, it's been an eye-opener for me."

"Which kind of eye-opener?" Taylor deliberately asked, "Like the one with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman in 'Eyes Wide Shut'?"

Martin laughed, "Something like that."

Taylor came over and jumped onto Martin's lap, "I need to take a shower."

Martin carried her towards the restroom, saying as they walked, "To hear the complete version of the song soon, I need to unleash even more of your creative inspiration."

Taylor responded, "If you work hard enough these next few days, I promise you'll get to hear the full song very soon."