Chapter 588

Brielle’s face showed little emotion as she took in her surroundings. She had seen the dark underbelly of high society and was not shocked by the depths people could sink to. “You can trust a person’s heart.” she mused, “but never their nature.”

“John, are these scripts strewn all over your bed, your work?”

John’s face was a map of decay, his eyes brimming with a forlorn hope as he nodded weakly. “Yes, they’re all part of a single script, penned by my protégé. He passed away last year… leukemia. I had no money for his treatment and couldn’t borrow any. I begged my ex–wife for help.”

But the help he sought came at the price of his dignity. She demanded he kneel, promising financial aid if he did. John did kneel, only to be met with her laughter and a hundred–dollar bill thrown at his face as a cruel joke. “Can’t believe you actually did it. I was just kidding! Here’s something for your troubles. It probably won’t even cover the cab fare. Consider it a token from me.”

John was humiliated beyond words, but any thoughts of retaliation were futile, given the group of bodyguards that shadowed the woman.

“John, how could I possibly let you stand back up? No, you stay right there in that filthy, stinking hole you call home.”

Brielle didn’t dwell on the turmoil in John’s eyes. Instead, she picked up the script and began to read. It was a story of life at the bottom rung: a brother and sister struggling against a relentless fate, a stark and profound narrative.

The script caught Brielle’s attention immediately. It had a raw authenticity that outshone the convoluted plots that required explanations to comprehend.

“Your protégé had a real talent,” she said.

John’s eyes welled up with tears, his body shaking with silent sobs. The script was indeed a gem, filled with the solidarity of the downtrodden and the tragedies of the insignificant.

“John, would you like to bring this script to life? I’m sure you wouldn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands. Tell me, how much investment would it take?”

John looked up in disbelief, hope flickering in his eyes. Could it be possible someone still believed in his vision?

“I’ve been studying this script for years. I know it inside out. I need twenty million, not inclusive of the stars‘ salaries. You know how expensive A–listers are; this might barely cover their fees.” Brielle’s lips curled into a smile. “I have no intention of hiring A–listers. What about this young man to play the brother? And I already have someone in mind for the sister. If they don’t meet your standards, you can replace them anytime. We have plenty of fresh talent at the company.”

John’s excitement was palpable, but doubt soon clouded his eyes again. “Will audiences still pay to see a movie of mine?”

“That’s why we need to clear your name before the film’s release. You focus on the script and the actors; leave the rest to me.” Brielle glanced around the modest room. “I’m glad to see such a clean space. It shows you’ve been waiting for a chance. Now it’s here, and I hope you seize it. Ricardo here is a great kid. I’m sure he can play the brother and nail it.”

John swallowed hard, his gaze settling on Ricardo before nodding in agreement. “Okay, but I’ll need to see him audition.”

“Alright then, John. Come with me to the company. We’ve got plenty of rooms where you can sleep. It’s better than staying here.”

John’s hands trembled with emotion as he tried to fold his clothes, a futile effort as they remained disheveled.

Ricardo stepped in to help. “John, let me do that for you.”

John offered him a shaky smile. “I can manage. Just give me a moment.”