[Chapter 242: Scarlett's Setback]
Daniel only looked away once the sound of the engine starting downstairs had gradually faded into the distance.
He rolled out of bed, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and watched the black stretch Lincoln drive out of the gate.
"Master, she's gone."
Succubus Chris crawled out from under the bed, draped in a smooth, sheer veil. "You look a little disappointed?"
"It's not disappointment. I was just thinking that the Trump family's money is really easy to earn." Daniel turned and headed toward the bathroom.
---
July 22nd, Cinerama Dome, Hollywood.
The global premiere of The Island was underway.
On both sides of the red carpet, a dense forest of cameras and lenses packed the area.
When a black stretch limousine pulled up to the start of the carpet, flashes erupted wildly.
Daniel stepped out first, then reached out to help Scarlett, who wore a backless silver gown.
"My god! Is that Scarlett? How did she get so much taller?"
"So beautiful. It's like Venus just came to life."
"Who's that? That guy walking the red carpet with her, they're acting so close?"
"Quick, look him up!"
"Judging by how they're acting, there's definitely more than friendship between them."
"To be that close to a goddess... I'm so jealous I'm falling apart."
"Damn, what does this guy have to land such a stunner?"
The flashes merged into a flood of white light.
The entertainment reporters jabbered nonstop, snapping pictures frantically.
Scarlett held Daniel's arm tightly.
Her original height of 5'3" had jumped to 5'7" with the transformation of the Osteogenic Elixir. With heels on, her presence was unstoppable.
Facing the press, she smiled brightly.
That confidence glowing from within made all the other actresses around her pale by comparison.
...
Inside the theater lobby, the atmosphere shifted from chaotic to elegant.
Steven Spielberg, dressed in a well-tailored suit, approached and extended his hand to Daniel.
"Daniel Cross, I'm glad you could make it. Marvel's moving fast; I heard the script is finalized?"
Spielberg's tone was polite.
His industry status was high, but Daniel's current role as Hollywood's financial power player was equally formidable.
Daniel didn't just hold over 22% of Marvel's shares, more importantly, he controlled buyout rights to several core heroes. At the same time, he had spearheaded two films, Hancock and The Pursuit of Happyness, and was deeply involved in The Devil Wears Prada.
"Yes, it's about ready," Daniel replied with a smile.
The director Michael Bay also came over.
He stared at Scarlett for a long moment, his confusion plain. "Scarlett, I have to admit, you amaze me right now."
Michael Bay shrugged. "How did you do it? You weren't this tall during filming, and your skin... it's like it's been glazed. Is the air in Detroit just that nourishing?"
Scarlett turned her head, shot Daniel an adoring look, and smiled.
"It's all because of Daniel. He has magical powers."
The surrounding producers and executives exchanged knowing smiles.
To them, it was just a star hopelessly in love, gushing praise for her boyfriend.
Typical Hollywood 'love brain' stuff.
Only Michael Bay curled his lip but didn't press further, though he felt something wasn't quite right.
...
After the small cocktail party, the feature film officially began screening.
In the darkened theater, Scarlett whispered into Daniel's ear: "Daniel, do you remember our agreement? This movie had a budget over a hundred million, executive produced by Spielberg and directed by Michael. I'm definitely going to win."
Feeling the warmth of her palm, Daniel smiled and said, "Don't be so sure. We'll know who won or lost soon enough."
Scarlett smiled back. "Of course, you'd better be ready to agree to my terms. My conditions are pretty demanding."
Daniel: "What a coincidence. So are mine."
Scarlett pursed her lips and smiled, tightening her grip on his hand.
...
The premiere ended amid applause.
Although the critics' expressions were guarded, Scarlett was still caught up in the excitement.
...
Late that night, at the Beverly Hills mansion.
Outside the window, the Los Angeles skyline buzzed like daytime.
But the mansion was silent around them, the distant hum of the LA skyline bleeding through the glass, but inside the master suite, the air was thick with tension.
Daniel led her into the oversized marble bathroom, where a deep soaking tub awaited, filled with steaming water and a layer of shimmering oils.
He didn't let her undress herself. His fingers, smooth and steady, worked the zipper of her couture gown with a slow, agonizing deliberation. As the silk pooled around her ankles, Daniel didn't move to kiss her. He just looked at her -- a heavy, possessive gaze that made Scarlett feel stripped bare long before the clothes were gone.
He stepped into the bath first, then reached for her, lifting her effortlessly. As he lowered her into the hot water, the contrast of the heat against her skin and the cold intensity of his eyes sent a jolt through her.
The bath was meant to be relaxing, but the energy was predatory. Daniel's hands were everywhere -- massaging the tension from her shoulders, then sliding down to grip her thighs, pulling her flush against him. He leaned in, his lips brushing her jawline.
"Did you miss me?"
"Yes." Scarlett arched her back, her breath hitching, "God, yes."
He didn't waste another second. His mouth crashed against hers, the kiss tasting of salt and desperation. He shifted her, pinning her against the marble edge of the tub, his strength overwhelming her. He was a wall of muscle, his chest crushing her breasts as he moved his hand between her legs.
His fingers found her center, already slick and aching. He worked her with a rhythmic, relentless precision, his thumb circling her clitoris while two fingers slid deep inside. Scarlett's head hit the marble with a soft thud, her eyes fluttering shut as the first wave of pleasure hit her. It was fast, violent, and overdue. She cried out, her body shuddering under the onslaught of a peak that left her gasping for air.
But Daniel wasn't finished. He didn't let her drift; he wanted her awake for everything.
He hoisted her out of the tub in one fluid motion, the water cascading off her skin as he carried her into the bedroom. He didn't lay her on the bed; he pressed her back-first against the door, his body locking her in place.
Daniel kissed her with a starving intensity, his tongue demanding entrance, his teeth grazing her lower lip. He was too much -- too strong, too focused, his bulk pinning her firmly against the door.
Scarlett let out a muffled moan, her fingers clawing into the muscles of his shoulders, trying to pull him even closer
"You're shaking," he noted, a dark smirk playing on his lips.
"Because you're… you're too much," she panted, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.
Daniel groaned, his control snapping. He moved her to the bed, and entered her in one powerful, deep thrust that knocked the breath from her lungs.
Scarlett let out a sharp, loud moan, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. She screamed into his shoulder, her entire body arching as he filled her completely, stretching her to the absolute limit.
Daniel groaned, a sound of pure, primal relief, and began to drive into her with a relentless, rhythmic force, each strike hitting the deepest part of her.
The bed groaned under the weight of his intensity as he finally flipped her over, pulling her hips high. He gripped her waist, his large hands nearly meeting around her middle, and drove into her from behind.
The friction was electric. Scarlett felt the tension building again, a second wave crashing over her. She clawed at the sheets, her voice breaking as she hit a second, more intense orgasm that made her entire body vibrate.
Daniel didn't stop. He pushed her further, his breath hot against her neck, his movements becoming faster and more frantic.
He flipped her back, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand -- his grip firm and immovable -- while he worked her with a fierce, rhythmic precision.
He was a force of nature, his size filling her so completely that she felt every inch of him.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice strained.
She twisted her head, looking back at him through blurred lashes. The sight of him -- sweating, focused, completely consumed by her -- pushed her over the edge. As he delivered a series of deep, punishing thrusts, the third orgasm hit her with a violent intensity that left her sobbing.
This one was a total collapse; she screamed his name, her muscles clamping tight around him as a blinding, white-hot climax ripped through her.
As she peaked, Daniel let out a low, guttural roar, his body stiffening as he finally surrendered, pouring himself into her in heavy, pulsing waves.
He collapsed against her, his heavy chest heaving against her back, his arms still wrapped tightly around her, refusing to let her go even after the storm had passed.
...
Scarlett lay weakly on Daniel's chest, strands of hair stuck to her sweaty forehead.
The clock struck midnight.
Daniel grabbed the phone from the nightstand; it already had first-day box office data compiled by Chris.
"The Island grossed $4.5 million in North America on its first day. Theater attendance is dropping. Based on projections, the opening weekend might pull in less than $12 million."
Scarlett suddenly propped herself up, her flushed face draining to pale.
"How much did you say? Four and a half million?" She snatched the phone in disbelief. "This was a major production with a $120 million budget!"
She slumped back onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
As the lead, she knew exactly what those numbers meant.
This was a disaster.
Daniel rolled over, held her close, fingers tracing her smooth back.
"Don't dwell on it. The data doesn't lie, but it doesn't tell the whole story," Daniel said calmly.
Scarlett turned her head, eyes misting.
"How could it not tell the whole story? A $120 million investment and only $4.5 million on day one. Hollywood is brutally realistic, Daniel. It means I've failed as a commercial leading lady. From now on, the big studios will see me as box office poison. I'll end up back doing indie films where I just stare out windows all day and barely get paid."
She gripped the blanket, voice trembling slightly. "I've clearly grown taller. I thought I was just one step away from being a top-tier star."
Daniel chuckled softly and kissed her forehead. "It's no big deal. Michael Bay's style isn't for everyone, and this film's target audience was always problematic."
"But it still feels like failure," Scarlett whispered.
"It's alright," Daniel said, tucking her messy hair behind her ear. "I've already prepared a backup plan for you. That role matters far more than this clone."
Scarlett suddenly looked up, eyes shining brightly. "Really? You're starting a new movie for me?"
Daniel just smiled mysteriously. "You'll find out later. That role won't require you to flaunt cheap sci-fi flair; she'll become your signature."
"Tell me now," Scarlett pressed, leaning fully against him.
Daniel shook his head, remaining silent.
*****
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