"I am the khaleesi of the Dothraki, I am the wife of the great khal, and I carry his son inside me…" Emilia Clarke said on screen as the three of us—me and the showrunners I'd selected for Game of Thrones, Cal Reinhart and Elias Rourke—sat watching her screen test. Emilia had reached the final two in the process, and now it was down to us to make the choice.
Of course, in my mind, the role was already hers. My decision was set. But the other finalist was someone who though unknown now I knew would become famous in the years to come: Anya Taylor-Joy.
She was Elias's favorite.
Cal was leaning toward Emilia.
I paused the video. We had already gone through Anya's screen test.
"Okay, Daniel, you must be seeing it. Anya is the best," Elias said, looking at me.
Cal shook his head immediately. "Yes, she's good. Really good. But Emilia is better. She feels like Daenerys."
Elias gestured at the screen. "Anya's facial features, Daniel. She looks like a Valyrian otherworldly beauty. She stands out in a way Emilia doesn't."
Cal fired back, "Maybe a bit too much. It feels like she stands too far apart from the rest of the world rather than belonging in it."
I raised my hands, cutting them both off. "Alright, alright. Elias, I see your point. But I agree with Cal. I like Emilia. We're going with her."
Elias leaned back with a sigh. "Well, both are excellent choices anyway. Emilia will be great."
I turned toward Lena White, one of the casting directors who'd been sitting quietly with us. "So, Lena…it's Emilia."
She nodded. "Then we'll call both of them today. One gets the good news, the other gets the bad news."
I thought for a second, then added, "Lena, do me a favor: when you call Anya, tell her I'm interested in meeting with her for a role in one of my films. You can give her my contact info and ask her to give me a call."
Lena smiled. "That'll help. These rejection calls can be brutal, but if she hears you want to see her for something else, that will soften the blow."
"Good," I said. "Because she's talented. She's not right for Daenerys, but she'll be perfect for my next movie."
Of course I wanted Anya to be the lead in The Witch. Since The Usual Suspects was being delayed, I thought I could step in and direct it instead. The script was almost done. I'd been writing it with some help here and there and Nathan was already digging deep into the historical research for the movie, making sure every detail about the time period was accurate.
I'd become a little obsessed with horror films during COVID, in my old life, and The Witch had always been one of my favorites. It was the sort of project I knew I could handle for my directorial debut. Starting small made sense: build up my confidence and experience here before moving on to bigger, riskier films. Even Margot had told me to go this route and, honestly, she was right.
The plan was simple: finish the script, lock the cast, and begin production as soon as possible. With Anya in place, I had my lead. Everything else could fall into line afterward.
I shifted back to the meeting, telling Cal and Elias, "So, we have our Daenerys. We're set on Momoa as Drogo. I believe the Essos-plot casting is basically done." They nodded in agreement.
Then I added, "Focus now on Catelyn. I haven't liked what I've seen so far. Keep looking until you have good choices." They agreed again, and with that, our meeting was done.
I stood up. "I'll be in the UK for the next week, so I'll see you both after." They wished me safe travels, and I walked out.
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Driving home, I realized this was probably the last year Margot and I would be in the apartment. It had been our home for the last few years, but with the new house in Bel Air finally underway, the clock was ticking on our last few months in the apartment.
Margot and I had finally come to an agreement on what kind of house we wanted. Not the sprawling, ostentatious mansion I wanted, but not something small, either, like she wanted just something that felt right, something that fit us. And thanks to Alex, who'd recommended a brilliant architect friend of hers, we had someone guiding us through the design process and helping us cut through our indecision.
Arriving, I parked my car and started toward the apartment building when my phone buzzed. I picked it up and saw a call from an unknown number. I almost let it go to voicemail, but I decided to answer.
"Mr. Adler? This is Anya…"
Ah, she called back fast. "Anya… yes. I assume Ms. White already spoke to you?"
"Yes," she said, her voice steady but carrying a subtle tremor of nerves.
I stopped walking, standing by the elevator doors. "We've chosen Miss Clarke instead of you. It was a difficult choice, but in the end, that's the direction we wanted to go."
There was a brief pause before Anya replied, "I understand. I'm just glad for the opportunity."
"Well," I said, "I was impressed. You're very talented that's why I want to offer you a leading role in my next movie."
This time, the silence stretched longer.
"Anya, are you still there?" I asked.
"Yes, yes, I am." Her voice came in a rush. "This… wow. Are you asking me to audition or—"
I smiled. "No. I want you in it. I've already seen what you can do, so this is me saying I want you in the film."
There was a shaky exhale on the other end. She sounded almost lightheaded. "Wow. This… wow, okay. I'm sorry, I just—"
"It's alright," I said gently. "Sorry if I was too direct. I'd like to meet face-to-face, maybe next week?"
"Yes," she said quickly. "Yes, I'll meet with you."
"Great. I'll have my assistant send you the details. I look forward to working with you."
"I… yes, I look as well. I mean …forward look, I mean…shit. Sorry."
I laughed. "Don't worry. I'll see you next week."
Ending the call, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and stepped into the elevator, still smiling at her nervousness. She was a young actress who had just gotten her big break, after all. And the name Daniel Adler had some weight around this town and the world now.
I walked into my apartment and found Margot lounging on the couch, idly flipping through a magazine. She looked up the second the door shut behind me.
"You're late," she said flatly.
"No, I'm not. I'm not leaving until tonight," I said, reminding her about my week-long trip to the UK.
"Yes," she said, narrowing her eyes. "And I thought we could have lunch together before you jet off."
I winced a little and sat down next to her. "I'm sorry I got caught up with work."
Her look softened, just a bit.
"I talked to Lester," I added, shifting the topic.
Margot straightened up, clearly waiting for more.
"We're going to meet him and Cassandra's parents next week. I just want to end this whole thing."
"Well, duh," she said sharply. "Let's hope they can take her out of our lives. Maybe put her in an asylum or something." Her eyes narrowed with a venom I rarely saw directed at anyone.
I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Careful, Mags. She might become my Joker or something."
Margot didn't even smile. Her glare told me the joke had missed the mark.
"Alright, alright," I said, raising my hands in surrender. "Do you want to go to that new dessert place that just opened up? Then you can drop me at the airport."
Her expression finally cracked into a smile. "Let's go."
.
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"And it's raining," I muttered as I stepped out of the car. One of the production assistants rushed up with an umbrella, holding it steady over me as I adjusted my coat.
Both The Batman: Part III and a small section of Green Lanterns were being shot here in the UK. Nolan and I were in a good place with the Batman script; pre-production had been shorter this time, given how long ago we'd wrapped the last film and how quickly we'd locked the design of key elements.
As I walked in, I was met by a surprising sight: Idris Damson, Chris Pine, and Jensen Ackles all standing together, chatting.
Both productions were sharing this studio today. The Green Lanterns team had only four days left before they wrapped in England and shifted production to Atlanta, while The Batman was just beginning.
Jensen was half in the Batsuit, with his sweatpants still on underneath. Chris Pine, meanwhile, was fully kitted out in the Green Lantern suit, the final practical version that had taken months of trial and error. Damson was in costume as well, but not the superhero kind.
"Here comes the boss," Jensen called out when he spotted me, grinning as he gestured.
I pointed at them as I approached, joking, "You three aren't supposed to meet yet."
Chris laughed. "Well, there was some trouble in Gotham, so we thought we'd drop in to help."
"The Batman doesn't need any help," Jensen growled in his best gravelly Bruce Wayne voice.
We all laughed.
I turned to Chris and Damson. "How's everything going?"
"Great," Chris said. "Can't wait to leave, though. The weather here is awful."
Damson put on a mock-offended face. "Hey, it's not that bad."
"Of course you'd say that you're from here," Jensen ribbed him. "But I'll admit, I'm getting used to it. Three years of shooting Batman films has made me almost like it."
We kept chatting until an unexpected guest arrived.
Henry Cavill was walking toward us across the lot, sporting a fake moustache for some reason.
I squinted. "Henry… what the fuck is that on your face?"
Henry stopped, grinning. "What do you mean?"
"The moustache," Jensen cut in, already cracking up.
Henry gave us his best poker face. "For anonymity, of course."
I shook my head. "My brother in Christ, that only makes you stand out more."
That set everyone off laughing again.
"Are they doing your scene today?" I asked.
Henry shook his head. "No, tomorrow." He moved in and greeted everyone, shaking hands with Pine, Damson, and Jensen.
We chatted for a bit especially about Henry's upcoming scenes and that's when the idea hit me.
"Hey," I said suddenly, "let's go outside and take a picture. Make a 'set leak.'" I added air quotes with my fingers.
"A leak" Jensen asked, brows raised, clearly confused about why I'd want that.
"Yeah. Look, Age of Ultron is about to drop its trailer in a few days. We can't have Marvel being the only conversation, right?"
They all nodded as what I was implying clicked.
"Exactly," I said. "So imagine how it'll look if the Batman, two Green Lanterns, and Superman are all on the same set together. People will lose their minds."
Henry smirked. "That makes sense."
So we headed out to a clear spot. One of the assistants took the shot: me in front, directing, with Jensen, Chris, and Damson standing together in costume. Henry had his back to the camera, face hidden. The photo was taken from just far enough away to look like someone had snapped it on the sly.
I checked the picture on the assistant's phone and felt a grin spread across my face.
Perfect.
I couldn't wait for this "leak" to hit the internet.
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"You want to get some lunch?" I asked Henry.
We'd been in the studio for a while, talking with Nolan and going over tomorrow's scenes. Henry stretched a bit and nodded. "Yeah, I could go for some lunch."
"Then let's go," I said.
We slid into the back of the car, the driver already waiting. As we drove into the city, Henry piped up, "There's this really good fish-and-chips place you'll love it."
"Oh yeah?" I asked.
"It's really good."
"Let's go there, then," I agreed, then added, "but we need to stop somewhere first. I've got a meeting with some people."
Henry tilted his head. "You want me to wait in the car?"
I smirked. "No, no. I think you should come."
His brow furrowed, suspicious but intrigued. He nodded slowly.
I wanted him to come, actually. The people I was meeting weren't just anyone; they were the chairman and the CEO of Games Workshop. And having Henry there was perfect. His reaction to what we were about to discuss would be fun to see.
The driver pulled up in front of a quiet, high-end restaurant. We stepped inside, shaking off the drizzle.
Henry hesitated. "Are you sure I should be here? I could wait in the car."
"No, it's fine," I reassured him, spotting the two men across the room. "There."
They stood up as soon as they noticed me and then their eyes widened when they realized who was beside me.
Henry froze mid-step. "I've seen those two before."
"I don't doubt it," I said under my breath.
"Mr. Kirby, Mr. Rountree," I greeted, shaking their hands warmly.
"Mr. Adler," they said together, polite, formal, with respect that came from knowing exactly who I was and who I might become to them.
I gestured toward Henry. "I think you know Henry Cavill."
"Yes," Kirby said, and for the first time that afternoon, his controlled business face slipped. "Quite a surprise."
I caught the spark of recognition in Henry's eyes as we all sat down. He recognized exactly who this was.
"Well, let's not waste time, gentlemen. Let's get to business, shall we?" I said.
"Yes, let's," Kirby replied, though his face was already lined with irritation. "We see you've bought 10% of our company. Care to explain why?"
From the corner of my eye, I caught Henry turning to face me, his brow furrowing.
Yes, I had quietly bought 10% of Games Workshop, the opening move in my takeover plans. Under UK law, crossing that threshold meant I had to disclose it. Now it was out in the open for anyone who cared.
"It's simple, gentlemen," I said smoothly, folding my hands on the table. "I believe Games Workshop is undervalued. You hold one of the most powerful intellectual properties in the world, Warhammer. This company could be ten times its size. I'm here because I intend to change that."
Rountree shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "With respect," he said carefully, "we are a company that values independence. We don't want an outsider like you coming in. Our shareholders may enjoy a higher share price due to your buying spree, but we will not sell out to someone who doesn't understand our culture."
I smiled faintly, tilting my head. "Culture is nothing if the world forgets you exist."
Next to me, I heard Henry mutter under his breath..just one word: "Sell…"
His eyes flicked between us, caught between disbelief and fascination.
I leaned back, my tone cooling. "You don't have a choice. I already own 10%. And I'm prepared to make a tender offer directly to your shareholders at a premium price. They will sell. And I will reach majority control whether you want me here or not."
The air went still as the two men exchanged a glance.
I turned to Henry, catching his stunned expression, and winked. He looked at me, utterly gobsmacked.
"So this is a hostile takeover, then?" Kirby asked, his tone flat.
My eyes locked on his, a smile curling at the corner of my mouth. "It's only hostile if you resist, Mr. Kirby. I genuinely love your company and everything you've created." I turned toward Henry, gesturing casually. "Ask him. He knows I'm a fan. The man himself is one of your most devoted customers."
Henry gave a sheepish shrug, nodding. "He's right."
"I don't want to tear anything down," I continued, leaning forward. "I want to keep everything that works. What I will do is modernize Games Workshop bring it into the future. If you come with me, I'll preserve your people and your legacy. If not… well, I'll still own the company. My mind is set."
A heavy silence followed, broken only when Rountree finally asked, wary, "And if we refuse?"
I rose from my chair, Henry following suit; the shift in energy was immediate. "Then, in a few months' time, you'll be working for me anyway. The inevitable is, well, inevitable."
"Mr. Kirby, Mr. Rountree—think about this, but don't take too much time; it's quite limited. You can call me anytime."
I left the table, Henry trailing behind me, still processing what had just unfolded. Once we were outside, he finally broke his silence. "What the fuck," he said, half laughing, half shocked.
I looked at him. "So? What do you think?"
"You're serious about this," Henry said, his voice half awe, half disbelief.
"Yeah," I replied without hesitation.
"Damn," Henry said, shaking his head. "I'm not gonna lie I'd love to be part of whatever you're planning with Warhammer."
I chuckled. "Henry, my friend, once I buy it, you can have any role you want in the company."
His face lit up like a kid at Christmas. "Really?" he asked, grinning wide.
"Yeah," I nodded. "I'm thinking Warhammer movies. TV shows. Maybe even more. It could be huge."
Henry's grin only widened. "Yeah," he said, voice almost reverent. "Yeah, it really could."
I patted his shoulder. "Now, where's that fish and chips you promised me?"
Henry laughed, shaking his head. "Just a short walk. Come on I'm buying."
Together, we headed down the street, Henry peppering me with questions about my plans for Games Workshop, his excitement contagious.
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You can read up to chapter 254
p.a.t.r.eon.com/Illusiveone (check the chapter summary i have it there as well)