"I mean, I loved the movie. It was great, but…" Kevin paused.
I chuckled.
"Don't laugh, Danny," Kevin said, his tone half serious. "I'm just saying Age of Ultron was a the better movie."
"So you say," I agreed, still grinning.
"I really thought it would get more than the last one," Kevin admitted, a hint of frustration in his voice.
"Well, you know… Empire didn't get as much as A New Hope."
Kevin laughed at that.
"You know, Kevin," I said, "I think we should really stick to the one-month separation we all agreed on. No more of this overlapping release-schedule nonsense."
"Not my fault," Kevin shot back. "You guys were the ones who decided to renege on it."
"Hey, I explained why that happened," I said defensively.
"Okay, okay, you did," Kevin conceded with a chuckle. "Let's just not let it happen again."
"Well, only two movies for us next year," I said. "2018 will have three, and 2019 will have four."
"Fuck," Kevin muttered.
"Yeah."
"Well, I guess we'll have to see who's best."
I smirked. "And it will be me."
Kevin laughed. "We shall see, Danny. We shall see."
The call cut off.
I laughed, put my phone away, and turned from the glass pane overlooking the city. Behind me, a gathering of DC and Stardust executives filled the spacious lounge Dave, head of DC Studios; Chris Henderson, the CEO of Stardust; Victor Steele, the COO; Buddy Hager, the chairman of Stardust; the marketing heads; and more. All the big names who had made millions over the last four years after the merger were here to celebrate the triumph of the DCU especially Aquaman's performance against Age of Ultron.
Yeah, it didn't beat Ultron at the box office, but a movie about Aquaman nearly matching an event film like Age of Ultron? That was huge. DC was also celebrating Aquaman's return to form among general audiences. The character was cool now.
"So, Feige and Disney still salty about Aquaman?" Dave asked as I walked over and sat down on one of the leather couches.
I grinned. "You have no idea."
They all laughed.
"Eight fucking billion dollars, baby!" Buddy said, raising his glass of champagne high.
"So far," I corrected, as we all raised our glasses with a cheer.
They all drank. I only took a sip.
"I would also like to celebrate myself," I said casually, setting my glass down. "As of yesterday, I'm worth five billion dollars."
"Wooo!" Buddy shouted, and everyone cheered once more.
I grinned, teasing. "Don't be jealous, everyone. You'll get there too."
Victor leaned forward, smirking. "Daniel, no one is jealous. And if they are, then they haven't read the story of the golden goose."
I raised an eyebrow. "I feel like that's both a threat and a compliment."
More laughter filled the room.
The celebration continued as the conversation shifted to Passengers, which was coming out in August.
I had an executive producer credit on the movie because I was the one who suggested changes to the script and turned it into more of a sci-fi horror. I'd seen the cut, and in my opinion, it was better: darker, more unsettling, actually interesting.
My grind continued, too. I'd wrapped filming on The Witch last week. It was quite an experience shooting outdoors in the wilderness—long days in the cold, unpredictable weather, managing child actors, and those damn goats. But I got through it smoothly. I was now very confident about continuing to direct. The movie would begin post-production in a month, and I planned to release it in January.
There was also The Thing, coming out in August. The trailer had only increased the hype. People were losing their minds online, dissecting every frame and theorizing about the plot.
Then there was Birdman, which was going to premiere at the Venice Film Festival. From what I'd seen so far, Margot was practically guaranteed a nomination, and I was going to campaign hard for her to win. Between this and her DC movie in 2018, she was going to become an A-lister—no question.
And then there was Comic-Con, where DC had big panels planned, one of them the Justice League panel.
All this was going to keep me very busy. Very busy.
"Imagine how much money Justice League is going to make," one of the marketing heads said, a gleam in his eye.
The others nodded.
"Pretty sure it'll make more than Superman," Chris said.
The others agreed.
I held up a hand. "Let's not bring our expectations that high, gentlemen. Superman was like lightning in a bottle."
Victor shook his head. "I don't agree. The DC brand is stronger than ever. Justice League could easily make more than Superman."
Dave nodded. "He's got a point, Danny."
Buddy set down his glass. "Okay, I know I'm going to hear this at the board meeting tomorrow, but tell me—what are we making after 2017? I'm very excited to know."
I grinned. "Well, Superman sequel for May 2018."
"Great," Buddy said, nodding approvingly.
"Then in July, we'll have the Wonder Woman sequel."
"Even better," Buddy said, his grin widening.
"In November, we'll have something new—Suicide Squad."
"Wait, what?" Buddy said, his smile faltering. "Suicide Squad?"
The marketing heads grinned.
"Yeah, Suicide Squad," I said casually.
Buddy frowned. "Why? They're like—no one knows them, Danny. I don't get it."
One of the marketing heads jumped in. "They're going to be like our Guardians of the Galaxy."
I shook my head slightly. "Maybe not how I'd describe it, but they will be another team other than the Justice League."
Buddy frowned. "But will it make sense?"
I nodded. "Yeah, that's what Batman 3 is for. Nolan and I almost lost our minds with that movie. You have no idea how many things I had to set up in it without affecting the quality."
I shook my head, thinking of the hectic post-production process going on right now. There were so many moving pieces, introductions, Easter eggs, setups for future films all woven into a cohesive narrative that still had to stand on its own.
"We're also going to have some TV shows," I continued. "Constantine. A show about Penguin."
"Really? Penguin?" Buddy said, raising an eyebrow.
Victor chimed in. "I've seen what Colin Farrell has done in Batman 3. It's great, Buddy. Trust me."
"Oh, and a Green Arrow show as well," I added.
"I still think we can do a movie," Dave said.
I shook my head. "Nope. We don't have time for that in the schedule, Dave."
"Okay, so where were we?" I asked.
"Suicide Squad," Buddy said.
"Right. Aquaman 2 is next, in March 2019. And then…" I paused for dramatic effect. "The big one."
"Justice League 2?" Buddy asked eagerly.
I grinned. "Buddy, I envy the fact that you get to enjoy it as a fan. So I'll have you find out at Comic-Con."
Buddy narrowed his eyes. "I'll find out tomorrow, Danny."
Dave smirked. "Actually, we've only greenlit up to Aquaman 2, so—"
"Dammit," Buddy muttered.
Everyone laughed.
Victor spoke up, his tone more serious. "One of those movies is Flash 2, Danny. And I, along with many others, have concerns—"
"No. It's happening, Victor," I said firmly.
Chris tried to speak up. "But it didn't do well. We could have another movie in that spot—"
"Do you know how important Flash is to the DCU?" I said, my voice sharp. "So yes, it will happen."
Chris leaned back slightly. "He could just cameo in the other movies, you know."
"No," I said, eyes narrowed.
Chris raised his hands in surrender.
I took a breath and continued. "The Flash was a good movie. The DVD sales prove it. The recent release on Netflix proves it as well. People have changed their opinion on it, and we can ride that wave to a sequel."
Suddenly, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen.
It was my mom.
"Excuse me," I said, standing and walking away from the group.
I stepped toward the glass pane overlooking the city and answered.
"Hey, Mom," I said.
There was a pause on the other end. Then her voice came through.
"Wait…who died?" I said, shocked.
.
.
.
I waited in my car outside JFK Airport in New York, watching the steady stream of travelers emerge from the terminal. My mom was flying in from Canada, where she'd been for the last two weeks with Nathan's family.
One of my security guys, who'd been tasked with leading her to the car, walked her over and opened the door.
She got in with a smile and leaned in to kiss my cheek.
"Oh, it's great to see you, honey," she said warmly.
I stared at her. "What the fuck, Mom?"
She blinked. "What?"
"You told me your mother, my grandmother died when I was a baby."
Apparently not. That was what she'd called me about two days ago: she said her mother had died and she needed to get to New York as quickly as possible. Nothing more. I'd even tried calling her back—no answer.
She sighed. "I didn't lie, Danny. She was dead… well, to me, anyway."
I looked at her, unable to form words.
She waved a hand dismissively. "Well, she's dead for real now, so let's get a move on. I don't want my cousins to get what's mine."
"I have cousins?" I said as the car began moving.
"Yes. Well, they're my cousins."
I rubbed my face. "Okay. Okay… explain."
Mom settled back into her seat, her expression hardening. "Your grandmother was not a nice person. After I became pregnant with you, she basically kicked me out."
"Why?"
"Your grandmother did not approve of your father. And a whole lot of other issues I don't want to bring up."
"But—"
"I've made peace with it, Danny," she said, cutting me off. "Like you said before, when I asked if you wanted to know about your father. What was your answer?"
I paused. "I made my peace with it."
"Exactly," she said firmly.
I let out a breath. "So… why are we here again? For a funeral or something?"
"No," Mom said. "It's a will reading. The funeral was about a month ago."
"The fuck," I muttered under my breath.
"My mother gave me some jewelry, and when she threw me out she wouldn't let me take it. I want it back."
"Okay."
Mom met my eyes, deadly serious. "Danny, you will help me get it. No matter the cost."
I nodded slowly. "Okay. You got it."
We pulled up outside a sleek office building in Midtown Manhattan. The brass plaque beside the door read Miller & Associates — Estate Law.
Mom straightened her jacket as we stepped out of the car. I followed her inside, past the polished marble lobby and into an elevator that took us to the correct floor.
A woman was waiting for us. "The conference room. Down the hall, second door on the left."
Mom didn't thank her. She just walked.
I followed.
We pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into a large conference room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A long mahogany table stretched down the center, surrounded by leather chairs.
Seated around it was a group of people I had never seen before in my life.
An old man probably in his seventies, gray-haired and stern-faced sat near the head of the table. Next to him were three middle-aged women, each dressed conservatively, their faces shifting to shock as we entered. Beside them sat three men I assumed were their husbands, all looking vaguely uncomfortable. Scattered around the table were seven younger people likely their children ranging from late teens to early thirties.
Every single one of them turned to look at us as we walked in.
The room went silent.
"You finally show your face," the old man said, his voice cold and accusatory.
Mom didn't flinch. "Yes, Uncle Peter. I think you know why we're here."
She gestured toward me. "Danny, these are the Adlers, my uncle, his three daughters, and their families."
I nodded at them with a polite smile. The younger ones seemed star-struck, their eyes widening as they recognized me. Meanwhile, Mom's cousins glared daggers at her.
Mom wasted no time. "Well, I know it's here. So let me have it, and I'll leave."
One of Mom's cousins, a sharp-faced woman in a navy blazer cut in immediately. "You get nothing."
Mom quickly cut her off. "Oh, shut up, Irene." She then turned to her uncle. "I know she left it with you, Uncle Peter."
She turned her gaze to her uncle. "You know who my son is."
Uncle Peter scoffed. "So what? He's some Hollywood hotshot. That doesn't—"
"Yes, he is that," Mom interrupted, her tone hardening. "But he is also a billionaire. That means he has the money to make your lives miserable with lawsuits… endless money, Uncle. Endless."
They all turned to look at me.
Damn, I thought.
I gave them my most charming smile. "I mean, sure. Whatever she says."
I felt oddly proud. My mom was using me to threaten her enemies. Honestly, it was the best feeling.
She kept staring at her uncle until finally, reluctantly he reached into a bag beside him and pulled out a small wooden box. He placed it on the table and slid it toward her without a word.
Mom picked it up, cradling it carefully. "Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
She looked around the table one last time. "I hope we never see each other again."
And with that, she walked out.
I started to follow, but one of the younger cousins early twenties, maybe called out softly, "Can I get a pic—"
Her mother silenced her with a sharp glare.
I shrugged and followed Mom out.
We walked back to the car in silence and got in. The driver pulled away from the curb, merging into Manhattan traffic.
I couldn't hold it in anymore. "Okay, I gotta ask what is this jewelry you really wanted?"
Mom smiled faintly, turning the box over in her hands. "It's a family heirloom." She paused, her expression nostalgic. "My great-great-grandmother stole it from a rich duchess she worked for."
"Whoa, really?"
"Yes," Mom said, nodding. "Apparently the duchess was very cruel. So old Grandma Adler stole some of her jewelry and ran off to the U.S. with it." She looked down at the box. "My grandmother gave this to me when I was a little girl. And now…" She handed the box to me. "It's yours."
"What?" I stared at her, confused.
"Open it," she said softly.
I opened the wooden box. Inside was a smaller velvet box, cushioned carefully. I lifted it out and opened it.
My eyes widened.
"Oh," I said.
Mom grinned.
It was an engagement ring.
.
.
Yes, the lawyer office scene is very Hollywood-esque will-reading drama that's not how it happens, but hey, I do love me some drama!!