Chapter 161: Cherish Tonight
Samsung and Dawnlight jointly invested $60 million to produce The Mask of Zorro. With Ridley Scott directing and Kevin Costner starring, the lineup was undeniably formidable. Mike Medavoy, head of Samsung Pictures, had exceptionally high expectations for the film.
Meanwhile, Warner Bros.' summer tentpole Batman Returns fell short of projections. It earned $160 million domestically and $260 million worldwide, a noticeable drop from its predecessor's $400 million global haul—especially considering its hefty $80 million production budget.
At the same time, Catherine Zeta-Jones' biographical film Christopher Columbus: The Discovery of the New World was released. Its opening weekend grossed a mere $3 million, and word of mouth was lukewarm at best. Warner Bros.' $40 million investment had clearly misfired.
At a Palm Springs hotel, Catherine—her skin still warm and dewy—rested against Aaron's chest.
"It seems Ridley Scott also has a Columbus film coming out soon," she said softly.
"Yes," Aaron replied, his hand tracing idle patterns across her back. "It's slated for October, and the budget is even higher than the one you were in."
1492: Conquest of Paradise reportedly cost $47 million. Even for Ridley Scott, Aaron couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern. After all, Christopher Columbus: The Discovery of the New World at least featured Marlon Brando, whereas Scott's version lacked a comparable Hollywood heavyweight.
By late August, when the pound sterling climbed to an exchange rate of 2.0 against the dollar, Aaron immediately instructed Dawn Funds to begin shorting the pound.
He was confident the Quantum Fund would soon make its move. After all, his own stake was $50 million—even with 10x leverage, that amounted to just $500 million.
As the German mark continued to strengthen, Britain and Italy, along with other European Community members, jointly pressured Germany to cut interest rates so they could follow suit. Germany, however, turned a deaf ear—having even raised its discount rate not long before.
The result was inevitable: more and more investors began hoarding German marks while dumping British pounds and Italian lira.
That evening, at a West Hollywood bar, Jack Wells, freshly returned from Russia, animatedly briefed Aaron on what he'd seen.
"This year, Russia rolled out full-scale privatization—shock therapy," Jack said, taking a swig of his drink.
"You know how scarce goods already were during the Soviet era. Now? Daily necessities are in critically short supply."
Lowering his voice, he leaned closer.
"I met some people in the military. Their warehouses are full of brand-new AKs. We source them in Russia and ship them straight to Africa—they sell like hotcakes."
"Hotcakes?" Aaron raised an eyebrow.
"Absolutely. Africa's a mess—demand is enormous."
Aaron chuckled. "You're not telling me you've turned into an arms dealer now?"
Jack waved it off. "Hardly. Just small-time stuff."
"Well, with the ruble collapsing, you must've made a tidy profit," Aaron said.
"Yeah," Jack replied with a grin. "That Omega advisory firm you recommended? Turns out it's pretty solid."
Aaron took a sip of his drink. "This kind of hedge-fund play comes with huge variables. Don't get obsessed."
Jack Wells chuckled. "I wouldn't go that far."
"By the way," Aaron lowered his voice, "that incident in Los Angeles—Sean Combs and Tupac Shakur—did it have anything to do with you?"
Sean Combs had been killed outright, and 2Pac left gravely injured and disabled.
Jack nodded. "Yeah. 2Pac was involved in Poetic Justice, John Singleton's new film. He seems to have forgotten who backed his debut feature, Boyz n the Hood."
That film had earned Singleton an Academy Award nomination for Best Director—thanks to Dawnlight Pictures, which had taken a chance on a young Black director and supported him filming in South Central and Compton. To ensure the shoot went smoothly, Jack had even dealt personally with a few gang members.
"Don't worry," Jack added. "The LA riots broke out soon after. No one's paying attention to this anymore."
Aaron smiled faintly. "Of course not. Neither of them was exactly a household name."
If Jack had known that the man he eliminated—Sean Combs—would later become one of America's most influential figures in music, the mogul known as Puff Daddy, he might have thought of it as removing a future menace ahead of time.
"The election's getting closer," Jack continued. "California's Senate race is underway, and several House seats are up as well. We'll need to donate to some promising candidates."
California held enormous influence in Congress, with two senators and the largest delegation in the House. After the riots, the state needed massive rebuilding—political ties were essential.
"Understood," Jack said.
"Tomorrow I'm heading to Italy for the Venice International Film Festival," Aaron added, clapping him on the shoulder.
Dawnlight Pictures had submitted its remake of Scent of a Woman to Venice, and Aaron also wanted to scout potential films for acquisition.
---
That night, in his Bel Air bedroom, Aaron lay atop Monica Bellucci.
"Want to come to Italy with me?"
Monica smiled. "I'd love to, but I can only stay two days. I need to be back for Jonathan Demme's rehearsals for Philadelphia."
"Then forget it," Aaron said gently. "Stay here and focus on the film. Demme's preparation will be good for you."
"Mm," Monica murmured, kissing him.
She rolled over, pinning him beneath her with a teasing smile. "Even if I can't go this time, there will be others. I'm in the U.S. now—I can come to you anytime."
As Aaron's hand traced her curves, his thoughts drifted elsewhere. Jennifer Connelly's scenes in Speed were nearly finished—she could easily accompany him on the trip. Besides, she spoke both French and Italian.
Aaron smiled softly. "All right then—let's cherish tonight."