[Chapter 264: Giving Her a Project]
Daniel said nothing, listening quietly.
"After that, I took on a few movies. They weren't flops, and most of them made money..." Liv's voice carried a deep frustration. "...but it was like a stone sinking into the ocean, not a single ripple. When people see me, they just call me the 'Elf princess.' Producers and directors treat me like eye candy. If I don't deliver a breakthrough role soon, Hollywood will forget me."
She paused, eyes blazing as she locked onto Daniel's.
"I heard Amanda got V for Vendetta, and Rachel is pushing for an Oscar. Even Scarlett, you've prepared a Disney project for her."
Liv's grip tightened on Daniel's arm. "Daniel, since you can see through fate, can you give me a chance too? I want to prove I'm more than just some fairy-tale elf."
Daniel looked closely at her ambitious, uneasy expression. He understood Liv Tyler's situation all too well. In the original timeline, after The Lord of the Rings, she had sunk into a long stretch of mediocrity. Aside from rare flashes of brilliance, she never regained her peak.
Rolling over, Daniel pinned Liv beneath him, finger tracing her delicate cheek.
"Let me think about it. I'll find a movie that suits you and get you a project soon," he said.
Liv's face lit up. "Really?"
Daniel smiled faintly. "I don't make promises lightly."
For a heartbeat, she simply stared at him. The fierce determination that had filled her emerald eyes softened into something quieter -- relief, gratitude, and a fragile hope she'd been trying to hide all evening.
"You have no idea how much I needed to hear that," she whispered, then leaned forward until their foreheads touched.
"You've never lacked talent, Liv. You just need the right script."
Her fingers intertwined with his, absentmindedly tracing the lines across his knuckles. "Then I'll trust your judgment."
Daniel lifted her hand and pressed a gentle kiss against her fingertips. A faint shiver ran through her, more from the tenderness than the touch itself.
She raised their joined hands between them, her thumb brushing lazily across the back of his hand. The distance separating their faces had dwindled to little more than a breath.
Silence settled between them, warm rather than awkward. Liv's hand slipped from his fingers to rest lightly against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.
He cupped her face gently. Liv closed the remaining distance herself, and their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss.
The kiss deepened, shifting from a tender promise into something hungry and demanding.
Daniel's hand slid from her cheek to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair to tilt her head back, exposing the sensitive line of her throat. He didn't waste a second, trailing a path of wet, searing kisses down to the hollow of her collarbone, his breath hot against her skin.
Liv let out a low, shaky exhale, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. The friction of his stubble against her jaw sent a spark of electricity straight to her core, and she arched her back, pressing herself firmly against him. She could feel the hard, insistent line of his arousal pressing against her thigh.
Daniel slowly stripped her with a focused intensity, his hands roaming over her curves with a possessive familiarity. When he finally freed her from her lace underwear, the cool air of the room hit her damp skin for only a second before he replaced it with the heat of his mouth.
He moved down her body, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate line from her navel downward. Liv gasped, her hips twitching upward as he parted her thighs. When his tongue finally made contact with her center, she cried out, her fingers digging into the pillows. He worked with a rhythmic precision, using a combination of broad, sweeping licks and sharp, pointed pressure that drove her toward the edge.
The sensation was overwhelming -- a pulsing, throbbing heat that radiated from her clitoris through her entire lower body.
Unable to bear the anticipation any longer, Liv reached for him, pulling him back up to her. Daniel didn't need an invitation. He guided himself to her entrance, pausing for a heartbeat as he felt how slick and ready she was for him.
He pushed inside her in one slow, deliberate motion, filling her completely. The sensation was an explosion of friction and pressure that made Liv's toes curl and her eyes flutter shut. He began to move, his thrusts deep and rhythmic, each one hitting the sweet spot that made her breath hitch.
The sound of their bodies meeting -- a wet, rhythmic slapping -- filled the quiet room.
Daniel groaned into her neck, his pace quickening, the friction building into an unbearable tension. Liv wrapped her arms around him, pulling him deeper, meeting every thrust with a desperate urgency of her own.
The build-up peaked in a sudden, crashing wave of sensation. Liv's internal muscles clamped tightly around him as she shuddered, a loud, uncontrolled moan escaping her lips. Seconds later, Daniel let out a guttural sound, his body stiffening as he came inside her, filling her with a warmth that left them both breathless and trembling in the aftermath.
...
Late at night, the humid Beverly Hills breeze drifted through the half-open window. Daniel leaned back in his leather chair, fingers tapping rhythmically on his desk.
"Chris, come out."
A wisp of pink smoke drifted out from his phone. Twisting in the air, it transformed into Chris's stunning face. Tonight, she wore a sheer black lace miniskirt, long legs crossed elegantly as she perched on the edge of the desk.
"Master, are you feeling lonely this late?" Chris teased, her eyes smoldering.
Daniel didn't even lift an eyelid. "Check if there's a movie called Knocked Up."
"Knocked Up?" Chris was surprised. Her fingertips swept across the data stream, her eyes flickering rapidly through information.
A few minutes later, her brow creased. "Master, there's no record of a movie by that name -- not even a copyright registration."
Daniel rubbed his chin in thought.
Right -- Judd Apatow, the director, had just released The 40-Year-Old Virgin this August as the second part of his "Loser Trilogy". Knocked Up was probably still just an idea swirling in his head. The script didn't even have a start yet.
Daniel looked at Chris. "In that case, I'll dictate. You write."
Chris pulled out a laptop, curious. "Are you going to write the script yourself?"
Daniel didn't reply. Calmly, he began narrating: "A professional woman, career on the rise. After a night of partying at a bar, she has a one-night stand with an uneducated, shut-in loser. Eight weeks later, she finds out she's pregnant. The core of the story is how two people from completely different worlds are forced together for the sake of the child -- the conflicts, the humor, the awkward realities of life."
For more than half an hour, Daniel detailed the story's progression, key jokes, and an ending brimming with life's flavor.
As he spoke, the words appeared on the laptop screen on their own.
Chris's surprise deepened. When Daniel finished, she looked up with admiration.
"Master, are you really just an Exorcist? This kind of script structure and attention to detail is better than most of Hollywood's top screenwriters."
Daniel glanced at the screen. "It's not talent. It's vision."
Leaning close, Chris whispered in his ear, breath soft like orchids, "Then when will your vision linger on me a little longer?"
Daniel smirked. "It will. But not now. Go contact Judd Apatow and send him this outline. Tell him I'm interested in investing, and I want to co-develop the story."
Chris tucked away the notebook and disappeared into the phone with a flash.
"Understood, Master. I'll reach him discreetly. After he sees this outline, I guarantee he won't be able to sleep."
...
Meanwhile, in a Los Angeles villa, Judd Apatow stared blankly at his computer screen.
The massive success of The 40-Year-Old Virgin had brought fame -- and pressure.
He wanted to write a story about accidental pregnancy and responsibility. But all he had was a vague idea, unable to capture the heart of the conflict.
"Damn it, how should I show the tension exactly?" he muttered, running his hands through his hair.
Just then, a "ding" sounded -- an incoming private email. The subject was brief: [A movie idea about accidental pregnancy -- you might be interested].
Judd opened it.
His breath hitched at first glance.
Then he stood up so suddenly he knocked over his chair.
"God... isn't this the story I've been looking for? And the details are perfect!"
He fixed his gaze on the sender -- Daniel Pictures, Daniel Cross.
"Daniel Cross? That Exorcist producer?"
Judd was stunned. Ignoring the late hour, he trembled as he began drafting a reply.
...
Early the next morning, Daniel awoke to Chris's voice in his ear.
"Master, Judd replied. He's very interested."
Daniel wiped sweat from his brow, a curve tugging his lips. "Tell him to meet me at the office at 3 PM."
...
Daniel hadn't visited Daniel Pictures' office many times.
At exactly 3 PM, Judd Apatow arrived on the dot.
"Mr. Cross, you're even younger than you look on TV," Judd said as they shook hands -- flattery or honesty, it was hard to tell.
Daniel had appeared on TV a few times, walking red carpets with various women. Anyone curious would have looked him up online.
"Have a seat, Director Apatow."
Judd took a deep breath and sat across from him, eyes locked on Daniel. "Mr. Cross, that outline... did you really come up with it?"
Daniel poured tea. "That's not important. What matters is -- do you want to make this movie?"
Judd nodded eagerly. "Absolutely! This story is fantastic. It hits all the right notes."
Daniel smiled. "Then it's settled. I provide the money, you do the work. You control everything -- including final cut. The copyright belongs to my company, and the dividends split by the rules."
Judd's eyes lit up immediately.
With The 40-Year-Old Virgin, though he was director and writer, he never had final cut rights.
"Any other requirements?" Judd asked.
Daniel's voice dropped firm: "Liv Tyler will be the female lead."
*****
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