The restaurant was one of those places that didn't advertise, didn't need reservations from normal people, and existed purely for those who shaped industries rather than worked in them.
Private rooms, soundproofed walls, servers who knew when to disappear.
Regal sat across from Gwendolyn, both of them dressed formally but comfortably.
The Oscar win was still fresh, three days old, and the industry was still buzzing. But tonight wasn't about celebration.
"So what's the reason you brought me here?" Gwendolyn asked, her tone curious rather than accusatory.
She didn't understand.
Regal knew that Gwendolyn didn't like getting involved in matters - industry politics, power plays, the chess games that happened behind closed doors.
And definitely not meet the person, the CEO of Pixy Studio - with the same company her lover didn't have a 'not so good' relationship with.
"Let's call it a date…" Regal said finally.
"That makes no sense." She smiled, but there was affection in it. "Who takes his lover to a business setting and calls it a Date?"
Regal smiled back. "Well I would."
But his attention was already elsewhere, scanning the entrance to their private room.
"I wonder what kind of man Richard Bethell really is…" Gwendolyn said, following his gaze.
Regal didn't look away. "That makes two of us."
It was true that he was meeting him for the second time, but Regal still didn't have any clear idea what kind of person Richard Bethell was, other than that he was strong, powerful, and controlled more of Hollywood than most people realized.
"I think he's honest," Gwendolyn said after a pause.
Regal raised an eyebrow. "Honest? That's an odd compliment for someone like him."
"Not really." She leaned back, thinking aloud. "He's in a position where he doesn't need to lie. When you have that kind of power, you don't hide what you want, you just take it. I think he's the kind of man who shows his cards without shame, even if they are dirty."
Regal just smiled at her… Does she really look like someone not interested in the business setting of Hollywood?
"Sharp observation," the voice said smoothly. "Especially from someone so young."
Richard Bethell stood in the doorway, his presence filling the room without any apparent effort. Late fifties, impeccably dressed, with eyes that seemed to calculate the value of everything they looked at.
Regal was immediately on guard, turning to see the person was none other than the one they had been discussing.
"Interesting," Richard continued, stepping closer with unhurried confidence. "I didn't expect warmth from you, Regal, but hostility? Right to my face?" A faint smirk touched his lips. "I must have made quite the impression."
Regal's tone turned measured. "What should a person do when someone eavesdrops on a private conversation? Smile and invite them in?"
So this is how we meet again, Regal thought to himself. A man closest to being one of the most influential people in Hollywood.
Behind Richard Bethell came three more people.
Elijah Bethell, the president of Pixy Studio and the middle brother of the Bethell family. He looked uncomfortable, like someone forced to attend a funeral for a person he didn't particularly like.
Liam Bethell, the youngest brother, sharp-eyed and watchful, saying nothing but observing everything.
Henry Bethell, Richard's son, with the entitled posture of someone born into power rather than earning it.
But it was clear the only people who mattered in this conversation were Regal and Richard.
"Will you join me for a drink?" Richard asked, taking a seat at the table with effortless ownership.
"If the conversation goes somewhere worthwhile." Regal replied.
"You are rather careful."
"I am just being a little wary."
"You are right. It's always good to be wary. But I am not the kind of person to play tricks in a public setting."
"That's hard to believe." Regal said evenly.
'What...?! How dare that arrogant little—!' Behind Richard, his son Henry almost flipped, his face reddening with barely contained anger.
"You don't believe me? You're saying that to my face?" Richard asked, though his tone was more amused than offended.
"Would you prefer I lie and pretend I do?" Regal countered, voice calm but sharp. "Blind trust would be far more insulting."
Behind them, Elijah thought to himself: It's natural that he wouldn't trust... but for him to so boldly state his opinions while making the atmosphere more relaxed... that's amazing.
Richard leaned back, studying Regal as if appraising a rare artifact. There was genuine intrigue in his eyes now.
"Did you know this?" Richard asked.
Regal's brow furrowed. "Know what?"
"I have stepped on more people than I can count to get where I am." Richard said, his tone almost casual. "Most of them weaker, some smarter, all of them in my way. I don't enjoy it. I just remove unpredictable variables."
He let the words hang in the air, deliberately unhurried.
"There are always talented men." he went on. "But very few become influential. Those who did - I either brought them under my wing, or swept them aside." His eyes sharpened. "You, Regal… can't be swept aside anymore. But I can still suppress you. For my sake."
Regal tilted his head slightly. "At least you're honest about it."
Richard smirked faintly. "Real power requires honesty. I don't need to hide what I want. That's why I win."
He leaned forward, elbows resting lightly on the table. "You understand, don't you? I can make things very difficult for you, or I can make them very easy. So tell me, what is it you want? Money? Fame? Power?"
"?!" Regal blinked, almost incredulous. "That's… what this meeting is about?"
The disbelief in his tone made Richard pause for the first time all evening.
"Sigh..." Regal sighed. "What do I want? I thought I was already pretty clear with that... I mean, people still don't know what I want?"
He looked directly at Richard. "Many people asked me the same thing. And I am giving you the same reply." ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ noᴠelfire.net
Regal's expression shifted, became more intense, more genuine than the diplomatic mask he usually wore.
"If there's a God in this world, and He gave me just one wish, I'd use it to make one more story. To start again from zero, to tell everything from the beginning—but better. Even if it meant losing everything I've built. Even if I had to crawl up from the bottom all over again."
The room had gone completely silent. Even Henry's barely contained anger had transformed into confusion.
"Just the fact that I live in a world... that I breathe... is to listen to these stories. I am grateful enough to watch a wonderful spectacle. To be given an opportunity to make them myself?
"That's something... I never imagined."
This guy... he is absolutely insane, Liam, the youngest Bethell, thought to himself. He just won an Oscar. He has made billions at the box office. And he is talking like he is still some desperate film student.
"Do you understand my desire?" Regal asked, looking directly at Richard Bethell.
The silence stretched. Richard Bethell, a man who had built an empire on understanding what people wanted, on leveraging desires and ambitions - stared at Regal like he had just spoken in an alien language.
Finally, Richard laughed. Not mockingly, but genuinely surprised.
"You are serious." Richard said. It wasn't a question.
"You don't want money. You already have that. You don't want fame - you're the youngest Oscar-winning screenwriter in decades. You don't want power in the traditional sense..." Richard trailed off, reassessing everything he thought he knew about the man across from him.
"I want to tell stories." Regal said simply. "Everything else is just... a means to that end. The box office success, the awards, the industry respect, it all serves one purpose. It lets me tell more stories. Bigger stories. Stories that might not get made otherwise."
Gwendolyn watched the exchange with quiet satisfaction.
Richard Bethell leaned back again, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"You know what the problem is with your answer?" Richard asked.
"It makes you unpredictable. Someone motivated by money, I can outbid. Someone motivated by fame, I can elevate or crush. Someone motivated by power, I can give authority or take it away." Richard's smile widened. "But someone motivated purely by wanting to tell stories? That's dangerous. Because I can't leverage that. Can't manipulate it."
"Is that a compliment or a threat?" Regal asked.
"Both." Richard stood, and the others followed suit. "You have made your position clear. I respect that, even if I don't fully understand it."
He extended his hand across the table.
"Okay I have made my decision… we are not friends and will never be…"
[Name:] Richard Bethell
[Traits:] Greed, Pride, Power-Hungry
[Unique Skill: ] Understanding of Desire
Understanding of Desire? Make sense…
Regal analyzed Richard through his system while he stood and shook his hand. The grip was firm, testing.
"Congrat's and be careful of your future endeavours." Richard said.
"Well, thank you." Regal replied back.
As the Bethells prepared to leave, Richard paused at the door.
After they left, Gwendolyn let out a breath she had been holding. "Well… That was intense."
"Phew.. I thought I was going to die from anxiety." Regal agreed.
That actually surprised Gwendolyn a bit…
It's just that Regal always looked so confident.
She laughed. "Are those the words and actions of someone who is anxious?"
She added. "Do you trust him?"
"No. But I respect him, and more importantly, he now understands that I can't be controlled through conventional means." Regal finally poured himself that drink. "That's as good as it gets with people like that."
"You really meant all that…" Gwendolyn said softly. "About just wanting to tell stories."
Gwendolyn still remembers when Regal told what he was going to do with his first earnings… Now after years she still sees the same glint in his eyes.
She smiled. "That's why I love you, you know. You win an Oscar and you are already thinking about the next story. The next impossible thing to prove possible."
"Love you, too, lady." Regal said.
Gwendolyn laughed, raising her own glass. "To the stories, then."
"To the stories." Regal echoed.
They drank, and outside the private room, Hollywood continued its endless dance of ambition, creation, and possibility.
But for Regal, the dance had always been about one thing: the next story waiting to be told.
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