Author's Note: This story is completely fictional and did not happen. All characters and names are fictional and were made up. I do not make money from these stories. Please do not copy and plagiarize my work.
This story was written for my fan ganner777, special thanks to him for the idea.
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Los Angeles, California
June 2010
Sunlight beamed down over the cream colored walls, illuminating them in a yellow hue from beneath the shade of the trees stretching out from the garden. The hills behind Los Angeles made for an ideal home of ranches and the like, royalty from within Hollywood and throughout the upper class societies looking for quiet seclusion away from the outer world. A sprawling estate was home to one such man of wealth and power. One hundred and twenty acres of land sat tucked within the hills, away from preying eyes with an extended gated driveway that stretched half a mile from the entrance. A multi-million dollar price tag had been paid off over eight years ago, as the home had now been properly lived in and maintained long enough to be registered as a piece of private property.
Ian White was the kind of man known throughout Hollywood for his wealth, power and prestige stretching out across two three within the industry now. The once crown prince of another man high up the ladder at a major studio, Ian had been mentored at a young age to step into his father's seat and take over at some day. His lucky break had come in his early twenties, dating back to the early 1990s when poor health had sidelined his father from working at Warner Brothers. After stepping in, Ian immediately began making deals to open separate studios and balancing budgets to smaller companies. Little did anyone else at Warner Brothers consider it was his beginning of breaking solo and running his own company under name. Ian White Pictures would quickly become a powerhouse in the city after inking deals with directors looking to bankroll their own production.
From his connections alongside directors such as Steven Spielberg and Francis Ford Copolla, Ian's empire continued to grow pushing into the new millennium. Taking a cue from his father's approach of mentorship, now in his forties Ian had begun mentoring a protégé. A young man who had made his start as a mere assistant for him, soon was handling more than grabbing coffee and looking over phone books. In any business involving millions of dollars, one had to be careful in their judgements of business partners and allies. It may have sounded like an old film cliché in quote to "keep your friends close, but your enemies closer", but Ian was soon to realize how important that advice was. Through the years of brokering deals and buying out smaller studios to merge into his own corporate empire, Ian had made more than his fair share of enemies.
With a small inner circle of partners in business, Ian had managed to evade a date with death on more than one occasion now. Surviving food poisoning and getting shot by assassins years ago, all of that changed when he began living in seclusion. With the years passing by and his influence remaining large in Hollywood, his name carried more than just fear. A grand master at bargaining deals, Ian liked to fancy himself as something of a genius. He would occasionally appear behind closed doors, overlooking production crews and attending award shows. Rarely a face that was snapped from cameras of hungry photographers at red carpets, Ian White was a name that only one would learn from experience within Hollywood inner-circles. The deeper one found themselves, his name carried more weight depending on the reason at hand.
Penelope Cruz was one woman who knew such matters all too well. Several years ago she had taken an offer from Ian when she felt the need to further her Hollywood career. She feared her star had begun falling after the nineties and needed help from someone high above. Ian offered her friendship in response for bankrolling a few projects throughout the years. Some of them failed, but where he had truly aided her was signing an agent who could manage her public image and bring a source of income for her outside of film productions. The agent remained in service, as it was his duty to continue with her as a client. Ian was aware of her long-term relationship at this point to actor Javier Bardem, another Hollywood star connected to a client under his company.
She had unpaid debts with Ian, something he had been pondering in his private office room as he awaited her arrival. His once dark brown hair had faded with lines of grey long ago. Skinny and tall, he was known for his intimidating face with eyes that he had been told undressed someone standing in his presence. If he had any close relatives, they could've possibly argued that the business he was raised in had corrupted him long ago. Whether that was true or not, he didn't care. The power he held was strong for him to not care whatsoever about what others thought. Sitting in his office, he glanced down at his desk where he had spread out tax sheets related to Penelope's finances. He wouldn't have to wait for her arrival for long, as an assistant buzzed him to notify the man that she had arrived. He pushed his finger back down onto the button and replied in his low voice.
"Send her in."
Rising up from his large leather-bound chair, Ian wiped his hand across his white shirt. Down below he wore pinstripe pants as he had previously been wearing a complete suit. A large wooden door was across the room to enter his office. Ian watched the gold door knob turn and then one of his assistants walked in, a young tall man in a suit. His eyes were focusing for the entrance of Penelope Cruz. Glimmering from the corner of his eyes, Ian caught sight of her as she came closer in a shiny black dress. The light from across the room illuminated into the room from beyond the windows, causing the dress to sparkle. Her hair had been properly fixed up, curling behind her shoulders as the dress offered a bit of cleavage in view and her feet down below in matching high heels. She wore a silver diamond necklace, matching her ear rings.
"Mr. White, it's been a long time. I've been meaning to see you. Sorry this couldn't be arranged sooner, I'm sure you understand."
Her accent was heavy, but Ian understood her very clearly. He stepped over to her as his assistant shut the door from outside. Not one to beat around the bush with simple conversation, Ian took her hand and guided her to have a seat behind his desk.
"I know why you've come to see me. You're still having tax problems back in Spain."
"Yes, that is correct. Aren't you gonna offer me a smoke or drink before we start talking?"
"No..."
He shook his head, not even wasting the time to look back at her before he sat down. Penelope crossed her legs and then pushed her hands together over her lap, gazing back at the old man as he sat there. Ian began the negotiations rather than having small talk around pointless matters.
"So, I looked over your files you had faxed me last week."
Ian crossed his hands while propping his elbows down onto the desk below. He continued on as his fingers moved together.
"You need some help with your tax problems and that's what you're here to ask for, am I correct?"
"Yes, that's right."
