America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

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After entering the suite at Peachtree Hotel, while Elena went to put away her luggage, Lily surreptitiously found Martin.

"There's something I need to tell you." She said mysteriously, "I'll help Elena pay back the money she owes for buying the house."

Martin casually asked, "You? You're still studying, where will you get the money to pay it back?"

Lily confidently lifted her head and puffed out her chest, "Don't underestimate people, I've earned a lot of money selling stars and I can work part-time once I'm in college."

Elena came out of the room and demanded, "What are you two idiots whispering about? Get the luggage."

Martin picked up two bags and entered the master bedroom of the suite.

Holle was quick to act, heading towards the second largest bedroom. Before he could reach the door, Lily caught up with him, lifted her pristine fist, and thumped him on the head.

She exerted her sisterly tyranny, "Idiot, be aware and go to the smallest room!"

With unreliable parents, the youngest child in the family always ended up being the most pitiable one. Holle didn't dare to protest and obediently went to the third bedroom.

Lily quickly became frustrated too because Martin and Elena had gone into the master bedroom and hadn't come out since closing the door.

"Shameless!" She fussed with the luggage outside, deliberately making a lot of noise, muttering, "Not even eating dinner, aren't you afraid of exhausting yourselves to cramps?"

Nearly an hour later, Martin and Elena finally came out of the room, the latter's cheeks flushed, and she had changed her clothes, her earlier frustration almost completely gone.

Lily was dissatisfied, "Are you guys really that eager? I'm starving!"

Martin glanced at his watch, "Let's go, I'll take you guys for a big meal."

During the meal, they also discussed what kind of house would be suitable to buy.

The median price for a standalone house in the middle-class neighborhoods of the Atlanta metropolitan area is around 200,000 US Dollars, and if you include poor communities like Clayton, the median price is naturally even lower, with property taxes currently less than one percent.

Martin simply gave Robert a call, and Robert's current neighborhood, as well as the surrounding blocks, were pretty good. He would accompany Elena and the others to check out houses the next day.

......

In the glitzy and glamorous metropolis, there are always a lot of fun places.

Black actor Shelmer and Pratt emerged from the bar, having had bad luck today with not scoring chicks, just ending up with a belly full of alcohol.

The cool breeze brought on the intoxication.

Pratt felt hot all over and didn't want to just go back, "Shall we switch places? Find somewhere that doesn't mind my chubbiness?"

Shelmer patted his stomach, "You can't hold out after just two days off?"

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Having been hanging out with Shelmer these days, Pratt said, "Every day on set, I lower my stance, pleasing those big shots, all for a chance that I don't know when will come. Who understands the frustration and depression in my heart? If I don't let it out, I'm going to go crazy!"

"We're all pretty much in the same boat." Shelmer was also a small-time actor, but unlike him, he had Tyler Perry as his backer, "That's why we need the right way to relieve stress."

Pratt said, "Women are the best way, but unfortunately, my looks aren't well received by the ladies."

Shelmer felt the timing was about right and suggested, "I know a great place that's especially relieving, wanna go?"

Pratt had been frequenting various nightspots in Atlanta with Shelmer and didn't think too much about it, "What are we waiting for? Let's get moving! Can't just go to sleep alone tonight, otherwise, I'll burst when I have to suck up to Martin tomorrow."

Shelmer pulled him into the car and drove south, asking, "I thought you liked Martin?"

Pratt laughed, "How could he not be great? He's with Jolie every day, it's too good! If he'd promote me and give me a chance to rise up, I'd kneel down and do anything for him. But what have I gotten from all my ass-kissing? Nothing."

Shelmer smiled outwardly, but internally he was dismissive.

What was Pratt doing compared to him? For the sake of getting ahead, he was taking the risk of jail time to do things for Tyler Perry.

Without a special skill set or luck, to get noticed meant paying a hefty price.

"Director Leterrier is a double-dealer. If I looked better, he would have taken the back road with me long ago." Pratt didn't mind selling himself; the issue was, being a fat guy meant no rights, wanting to sell and no one buying.

Shelmer declared, "We all have it rough, climbing to the top is just too hard."

The car entered the region near South City and stopped in front of an extremely luxurious nightclub, clearly a high-end establishment.

Pratt commented, "This place looks expensive?"

After getting out of the car, Shelmer replied, "Don't worry, a friend of mine owns it, we can get a discount."

Itchy for some action, Pratt followed him into the nightclub where a black young man in charge came over to greet them and led them to a private room on the second floor.

The young man asked, "What do you guys want?"

Shelmer slapped Pratt's back, "We're all family here, no need for formalities."

Pratt belched, "Chicks, pretty and sexy chicks."

Soon, several beauties entered the room, all seemingly quite young. It's hard to determine specific ages since white and Latina girls develop early and look older than they are.

Shelmer wrapped an arm around one and sat down on the sofa.

The remaining three were exactly Pratt's favorite type.

Having spent so many days together, Shelmer had already figured out the type Pratt couldn't resist.

Pratt lunged forward and pulled the three girls onto the sofa; he never realized he could move that fast or that his fingers could be so nimble.

In such a situation, not just Pratt, who had actively sought enjoyment, but most men would struggle to resist.

The room quickly turned into a poker den.

This time Pratt really had a blast, both exhilarated and exhausted.

So when the girls left the private room, he didn't even notice.

A black guy came in, closed the door of the private room, and nodded to Shelmer, "Wake him up."

Shelmer went over and slapped Pratt's face a few times, and seeing that he wasn't waking up, he simply took a bottle of beer and poured it over his head.

Pratt jolted up, about to get angry, but a black hand swung at his face with a whoosh, knocking him down again.

"I'm Fred, the security manager here," Fred said, pulling out a tissue to wipe his hand that was splashed with beer foam.

His left hand, missing parts of his little finger and ring finger, picked up a remote control, "Chris, I want you to do me a little favor."

Just as Pratt was trying to get up, he saw Shelmer pulling out a gun, aiming it at him.

The alcohol sobered up instantly, and even with his slow wits, he knew he had fallen into someone else's trap.

Fred didn't waste words, he pressed the remote, and the screen in the room showed the footage from just before, the threesome action seemed quite stimulating.

Pratt questioned Shelmer, "I thought of you as a friend..."

But Fred cut him off, "What about them? They're not even 16 until the second half of the year, and as far as I know, you're over 25 years old. You're not protected by the Romeo and Juliet law, I can have them call the cops and accuse you any time."

Pratt remained silent.

Fred tossed a few documents related to the girls over, "You can choose to go to jail, or help me with one thing. I'm not forcing you."

Pratt believed that Shelmer wouldn't dare to shoot.

But he also knew that if the other party called the police, he would be finished.

A small fry like him, who could he expect to come to his rescue?

Pratt asked, "What do you want me to do?"

Looking at his severed fingers, Fred remembered something from over two years ago, "Don't worry, I won't make it difficult for you. I hear you're pretty close with Martin Davis, bring him here for some fun."

"You're crazy!" Pratt exclaimed, "He's a hero right now..."

Fred cut him off, "If he does the same thing as you, is he still a hero? Strip away the hero's halo, and he's just a smalltime Hollywood actor."

Pratt shook his head, "No, I won't do it."

Fred nodded, dialed the three numbers 911 on his phone, placed it on the coffee table in front of Pratt, then pulled out a bag from behind, opened it, and set it next to him.

Inside the bag was all money, three thick stacks of it.

Fred said, "This is the down payment; there's twice as much when the job's done, and those three girls will keep you company until you're tired of them."

Pratt fell silent. How could they put someone to such a test!

A few minutes later, Fred went upstairs and met the bespectacled black man in the top-floor office, "Boss, it's done."

On the other side, Tayler Perry said, "Good, the simplest is always the most effective. Get the room ready, I want to make an offer Martin Davis can't refuse."

...

The shooting for the day wasn't over, but Martin and Jolie's scenes for today had been completed.

Both of them entered Martin's makeup trailer.

Dedicated actors always struggle to step out of their roles, so Martin and Jolie extended their on-screen passion into the makeup trailer, shedding excess emotion.

Only the trailer squeaked in protest.

By the time they finished, the crew was wrapping up, and Jolie asked, "Coming to my place tonight?"

Martin sorted his clothes, "I have plans with Louise and Kelly tonight."

Hearing these two names made Jolie feel neither sore in the waist nor tired in the legs; the extinguished flames blazed up, "Would you guys like to come up to the balcony tonight?"

Her suite was adjacent to Louise's, with connecting balconies.

Martin wasn't as perverted as she was, shaking his head, "They're careful; they won't agree."

Jolie could not hide her disappointment.

Martin said, "Get dressed quickly; we have to go."

By the time Jolie was dressed, he got out of the makeup trailer and saw a fat man.

Pratt came up and said, "Martin, are you free tonight?"

Martin asked, "What's up?"

Pratt replied with a smile, "You've been really good to me on set, and I've always wanted to buy you a drink. There's a place with good booze."

Martin had already made plans with Louise and Kelly, and they were his benefactors; he couldn't bail on them, "I don't have time tonight, maybe another time."

Pratt didn't dare to push, "Then another time."

Martin met up with Bruce, got on the same electric cart, and asked, "Have we ever helped that guy?"

Bruce shook his head, "No, except for when he came up to us on his own, we never did him any favors."

"Let's go, back to the hotel," Martin said, glanced at the time, took the thermos next to Bruce, and took a sip.

Inside the thermos, soaked goji berries from Chinatown.

It's not that he couldn't, but he had to take care of himself; after all, he too wanted to live it up like Wes Craven in his sixties or seventies.