Raphael couldn't help but laugh when he saw the scene.
"Philip, you're starting to look more and more like a big-shot executive these days."
Philip shot him a sideways glance.
"Of course. I'm running a company with assets north of nine figures now."
Raphael raised an eyebrow.
"Nine figures? That's it?"
"Obviously," Philip said as he walked over. "You make a ton, but you spend it even faster."
Raphael leaned back in the chair.
"So you're not gonna thank me or anything?"
Philip glared.
"Thank you for what? For making me work overtime every day? For letting me clean up your messes?"
Raphael burst out laughing.
"What kind of way is that to talk?"
Philip cracked a smile too.
"Alright, enough messing around. Let's get to business."
He sat up straight. "Perfect timing—you're here. There's something I need to tell you."
Raphael sprawled on the sofa, lazy as ever.
"What?"
Philip pulled a file from the drawer and slid it across the desk.
"Take a look at this first."
Raphael opened it.
The first page was the asset breakdown for the Raphael Lee Charitable Foundation.
Amazon stock: $66.44 million.
Raphael's eyebrows shot up.
"It went up again?"
Philip nodded.
"It was $35 million when we transferred it in. Now it's almost doubled."
Raphael made a sound of acknowledgment and flipped to the next page.
Company account flow.
Total income: $1.38 billion (World Cup winnings) + $10 million (existing cash in company account)
Expenses: $480 million (Marvel acquisition) + $10 million (Marvel HQ renovation)
Balance: $900 million
Raphael stared at the number, pretty satisfied.
He kept flipping.
The third page showed a weird outgoing transfer.
Expense: $167 million
Recipient: Non-public fund (Ref: NFF-8723)
Memo: Base debt settlement
Raphael's finger froze on the page.
He looked up at Philip.
"This money…"
Philip looked genuinely confused.
"I have no idea what happened. Last month when we reconciled, it just… showed up as gone. $167 million."
He rubbed his temples.
"The weird part is, it felt normal. Like it was supposed to be there all along."
He looked at Raphael.
"Raphael… do you know what this is about?"
Raphael stayed silent.
Of course he knew.
It was the system debt.
$167,000,000. Not a cent more, not a cent less.
He closed the file and handed it back.
"Don't worry about it. That money had another purpose."
Philip stared at him for a long time, then sighed.
"Fine. I won't ask."
Raphael patted his shoulder.
"Keep going—there's more."
Philip flipped to the last page.
Remaining funds: $730.45 million
Raphael did the quick math in his head.
13.9 billion in – 480 million – 10 million – 167 million = roughly 730 million after minor expenses.
Spot on.
He nodded, satisfied.
Philip looked at him.
"One more thing."
"What?"
"Ari's contract with you is almost up."
Raphael turned.
"When?"
"Next month." Philip said. "It was a two-year deal, 5% commission. We need to renew."
Raphael thought for a second.
"First, send him last year's commission. But calculate it at 10%."
Philip blinked.
"10%? You sure?"
Raphael nodded.
"Positive."
Philip opened his mouth, then closed it.
Raphael caught the look and laughed.
"What were you gonna say?"
Philip chose his words carefully.
"Hollywood agents usually take 10%, but that's for regular talent. At your level now, you could easily push it down to 7% or even 5%."
Raphael shook his head.
"No need. Ari stuck with me for two years—back when I was a nobody. He could've jumped to bigger clients and made more money, but he didn't leave."
He sighed.
"Now that I'm hot, I'm not gonna shortchange him."
Philip's mouth curved into a small smile.
"Alright. Your call."
Raphael leaned back and looked at him.
"One more thing."
"What?"
"I set you a salary."
Philip froze.
"Huh?"
"Annual salary."
Raphael met his eyes. "$10 million."
Philip's pen clattered onto the desk.
"What did you just say?"
Raphael repeated it.
"$10 million a year. Say it as many times as you want—it's still $10 million."
Philip took a deep breath.
"Raphael, I know you're loaded now, but $10 million a year? You realize what that means? There's not a single manager in Hollywood pulling that kind of money—even if the talent's their own kid!"
Raphael nodded.
"I know."
"Then why—"
"Let me finish."
Raphael cut him off. "This isn't just salary. Part of it is legitimate asset transfer."
Philip blinked.
"Asset transfer?"
"Yeah."
Raphael looked straight at him. "If I ever go broke—totally wiped out—at least you'll be there to pull me up."
Philip opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Hollywood was brutal. No one stayed on top forever. Raphael's words actually made sense.
Raphael kept going.
"Two years ago you dropped everything—great prospects, steady income—to come manage me. That first year-plus, you had almost no earnings, just lived off savings. This money is what you deserve."
Philip opened his mouth again, but all that came out was a long sigh.
Suddenly he stood up from his chair, lunged across the desk, and wrapped Raphael in a crushing hug.
"Raphael… you're taking care of me."
Raphael shoved him away, fake-annoyed.
"Come on, you're my brother! Even Nicky knows to look after his own. What am I, some heartless monster?"
Philip's eyes were red. He sniffed twice.
"Fine. I'll take it. And if you ever need anything—"
Raphael cut him off immediately.
"Shut up! Quick—say 'peipeipei'!"
Philip stared blankly.
Raphael explained, "What you just said is way too ominous. That kind of talk always comes true. So we gotta ward it off Eastern-style. Repeat after me—peipeipei!"
Philip sighed but played along, spitting three times.
"Okay, fine. I'll take the money."
Raphael nodded.
"That's more like it."
Philip looked at him.
"Anything else?"
Raphael thought for a second.
"Help me find a house in L.A."
Philip raised an eyebrow.
"A house? Isn't your current place nice enough?"
"That's Jessica's."
Raphael said, "I want one of my own."
Philip considered.
"Any requirements?"
"Big enough. Private enough. Budget under $50 million."
Philip blinked.
"Fifty million? You sure?"
"Yeah."
Philip opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded.
"Got it. I'll keep an eye out."
Raphael caught the look on his face and laughed.
"You think I'm spending too fast?"
Philip gave a small nod.
"A little."
Raphael grinned.
"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."
Philip suddenly remembered something.
"Oh—about Mom…"
He sighed.
"Don't even start. Two weeks ago I brought up moving her to a better place. She shut it down immediately."
Raphael raised an eyebrow.
"Same reason?"
"Yep."
Philip nodded. "She said she's an EY executive now—she's not gonna sponge off her two sons. She'll think about it when she's too old to move."
Raphael laughed out loud.
"That's so her. Cheers to Queen Madeline!"
"To Queen Madeline!"
Philip laughed too.
---
After wrapping up the small stuff, the brothers didn't waste time. They grabbed the lawyer and headed straight to Universal Studios.
The signing was more formal than expected.
Universal had set up a little ceremony—long table, dark-blue velvet cloth, contracts laid out neatly.
Marc Platt was already there, chatting with Ron Meyer. When he saw Raphael, he waved.
"Raphael—over here."
Raphael walked over and shook his hand.
"Nervous?"
Marc grinned.
"Nervous about what? Everything's negotiated. Just signing now."
He leaned in and lowered his voice.
"Fifty million total. You get thirty, I get twenty. This deal's a steal for both of us."
Raphael nodded.
"Universal didn't try to squeeze more?"
"Not a chance."
Marc glanced toward Ron Meyer. "They're more eager than we are. The movie's got killer word-of-mouth. Sequel, DVD, TV rights—easy money. Everything after that is pure profit."
Ron Meyer walked over with a champagne flute.
"Marc's right."
He handed Raphael a glass. "Raphael, congrats. After this film, you're officially a bankable A-lister."
Raphael clinked glasses with him and just smiled.
Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.
They sat down. The lawyers went through every page.
Philip sat beside Raphael, double-checking line by line.
Raphael leaned back, barely glancing at the dense clauses.
Half an hour later, Philip gave him a nod.
Raphael picked up the pen and signed the final page.
Ron Meyer signed too, then extended his hand.
"Pleasure doing business."
Raphael shook it.
"Pleasure."
Marc watched the exchange, grinning like he'd just won the lottery.
They walked out of Universal as the sun was dipping low.
Marc clapped Raphael on the shoulder.
"Raphael—next time something like this comes up, call me."
Raphael smiled.
"Will do. Next time's on you."
They both knew the truth: low-budget miracles like this were rare. Hollywood history showed maybe one a year—if that.
So this partnership was probably a one-and-done.
They got into their separate cars and drove off.
Two days later, $30 million hit the company account.
Philip stared at the screen and let out a long sigh.
"Zero investment, less than a year, $30 million back. Hell of a deal."
Raphael sat across from him, legs crossed.
"Alright—money's in. Time to get to work."
Philip's eyes narrowed.
"Work? What are you cooking up now?"
Raphael pulled a folded paper from his pocket and slid it over.
Philip opened it.
Three names were written on it:
Apple – $15 million
NVIDIA – $10 million
Monster Beverage – $5 million