"Another round of action? What kind of action?"
Scott Swift felt his head spinning. It was the same dizzying sensation he'd had earlier this year when Dunn, in a sudden burst of inspiration, decided to dump Yahoo stocks at their peak and go all-in on shorting them.
Scott considered himself pretty sharp. He'd grown up on a small-town farm, worked his way into Brown University, landed a job at Merrill Lynch on Wall Street, married a beautiful and kind woman, and had a cute, mischievous daughter, little Taylor. Not a bad life.
But standing next to Dunn, he couldn't help feeling like his decades of experience were painfully shallow.
Dunn had this aura about him—impossible to read, impossible to pin down.
Lose a billion dollars and not even blink?
Dunn grinned. "The second wave, of course!"
Scott finally caught on, his jaw dropping. "You mean… come July, we're doing another massive short on both exchanges?"
"Exactly!"
Dunn's smile was cryptic, almost smug.
This move should throw the feds and the Justice Department off the scent, right?
The big event wasn't supposed to hit until September, but Dunn had started laying the groundwork back in January. For the first half of the year, he'd be staring down huge losses.
A classic underdog story—start low, rise high. Inspiring stuff!
Who knows, maybe this play would end up in investment textbooks as a model case.
Dunn was confident. Sure, shorting now might mean bleeding money in the short term, but once the "9/11 incident" hit, the Nasdaq and NYSE would tank hard—more than enough to cover the early losses.
And then some. Big time.
With the cash Dunn had now, this move could rake in even more than the haul from earlier this year!
Of course, if the feds still sniffed him out, he had a backup plan.
A month after 9/11, with public outrage boiling, President Bush Jr., under massive pressure, would skip the UN Security Council and launch a war under the banner of "homeland invasion, self-defense retaliation."
Dunn had serious clout. If he stepped up then, said a few kind words for the president, and eased the White House's burden, he'd earn some goodwill.
Compared to the political wins for the president and the old-money families, or the profits for the capitalists, Dunn's stock market gains were peanuts. Mutual help, mutual understanding, joining hands to cash in—that was the real game.
But Scott Swift? He clearly had no clue about any of this.
He just stared at Dunn, dumbfounded, unable to get a word out.
Dunn burst out laughing, walked over, and clapped him hard on the shoulder. "Alright, Scott, don't overthink it. Just follow my lead. Oh, and I brought Andrea and little Taylor along. You can head home now—Merry Christmas!"
…
Dunn had met big shots from all walks of life. He'd even bet he could chat with the president without breaking a sweat.
But Natalie Portman's dad? That guy stressed him out.
A strict, traditional, no-nonsense Jewish patriarch!
Dunn had not only gotten cozy with Natalie way too early but also had rumors swirling about him and a bunch of other actresses. Even with Natalie and her mom, Shelley Hershlag, trying to cover it up, the old man had to have heard something.
Dinner was torture—long, dry prayers, weird-tasting food, and stiff, serious small talk. Dunn would've rather strap on some rocket boots and slug it out with a sea dragon than sit through that.
It wasn't until they finished and he escaped to Natalie's room that he finally let out a huge sigh of relief. Life suddenly felt brighter.
Natalie, watching him unwind, doubled over laughing, tears in her eyes. "That's what you get for your bad reputation!"
Dunn grimaced. "I could've handled a couple whacks from the old guy. But that stone-cold face the whole time? It was suffocating."
"Pfft!" Natalie couldn't hold it in, then pouted. "Old guy? That's my dad!"
"Yeah, your dad. And someday… my dad too. How am I supposed to survive this?" Dunn groaned, flopping onto her pink bed with a dramatic sigh.
"He's not your dad!" Americans didn't roll that way, but Dunn's words still warmed Natalie's heart. Still, seeing him sprawl out so rudely, she huffed, "Dunn, that's my bed!"
"Huh? Oh, right!" He blinked, feigning surprise. "Wait, isn't that why I'm lying on it? Because it's yours?"
Natalie was speechless. Dunn's overly familiar vibe clashed hard with American etiquette, but… given their relationship, it wasn't a big deal. No harm done.
"But… what if my dad sees?" She scrambled for an excuse.
Dunn laughed. "No way. He wouldn't just barge in without knocking, right?"
Before he finished, the bedroom door swung open!
Dunn's face went pale, cold sweat breaking out. What the hell?!
Natalie turned white too, jumping up in a panic. But when she looked back, it was just her mom, Shelley Hershlag.
"Mom, you scared me to death!"
"Shelley, you scared me to death!"
Natalie and Dunn blurted it out in unison.
Shelley stood there with a tray of fruit and some pastries, chuckling at the scene. "What now? My hands were full—I couldn't knock."
She was American, not stuck in the rigid, conservative ways of her Jewish husband.
Meeting Dunn had flipped her life upside down—in a good way. In L.A., she now lived in a $3 million mansion, enjoying the high life.
Natalie sighed, plopping down next to Dunn and pouting. "Mom, Dad's too much. He acts like Dunn's his sworn enemy."
Shelley smiled. "You know how your dad is. But you two aren't exactly innocent, are you?"
"I…" Natalie's face reddened. She'd given herself to Dunn ages ago—everyone knew it.
Dunn waved it off, owning up. "It's fine. I'll take the punishment!"
"But it's Christmas…" Natalie whined, clearly unhappy. They bickered plenty in private, but in front of others, she always had his back.
Shelley shook her head with a soft sigh. "Dunn, you've got to understand—Nat's dad is Israeli. You're lucky this is America. If you were spending Christmas in Israel… Here, have some fruit and pastries. I know dinner wasn't great. I've been there—I get it."
"Oh?" Natalie's eyes lit up like she'd struck gold. "Mom, did you go through this with Dad too?"
Shelley dodged the question with a wave. "Someday, you and Dunn should visit your great-aunt in Israel for Christmas. Then you'll see how good you've got it here."
Dunn grinned. "It's the 21st century. Israel's younger crowd is getting more open-minded."
"Mm." Shelley gave him a long look, hesitating before saying softly, "Dunn, you… can't stay the night."
Dunn nodded. "I know."
After Shelley left, Natalie scrunched her nose and huffed. "Happy now?"
"Happy about what?" Dunn looked helpless. "I'm getting kicked out—how's that happy?"
Natalie gritted her teeth. "Don't play dumb. You think I don't know? Those two Brazilian models you've got stashed in New York?"
"Oh, that…" Dunn rubbed his nose awkwardly. "They just got to the U.S., haven't found their footing yet, no place to crash. So I helped out a little."
"So you bought them a $40 million penthouse in the middle of Manhattan?" Natalie's tone was sour and snappy. "You're so generous!"
Dunn, feeling guilty, pulled her into a hug, brushing it off. "They're just models—something to mess around with. Come on, let's drop the boring stuff and talk business."
"What business?"
"Movies, obviously!"
That hooked Natalie's attention. "Juno? You finished the script?"
"Pretty much. The writing team's tweaking the details. Should be ready to shoot around Oscar season." Dunn exhaled, thankful he had movies as a trump card.
Natalie blinked. "You directing?"
"No way. A Beautiful Mind still needs post-production." Dunn shot that down. "It's a feminist film—I think a woman director would be best."
Natalie's face lit up even more. "Yes, great idea! Ooh… and the crew should mostly be women too. Fits the vibe."
"Good call. How about this—you take on a producer credit and pick the team?"
"What? Is that okay?" Natalie flushed, thrilled but nervous.
"Why not? It's our movie—we call the shots!" Dunn wrapped her in a doting hug, kissing her hair.
Natalie melted, charmed by his sneaky sweet talk. "Got a name for the company yet? The feminist film studio?"
"What do you think?"
"How about Rose Pictures?"
"Uh… sounds good." Dunn's expression turned odd.
Natalie raised an eyebrow. "What's with that face?"
"Well…"
Dunn hesitated, struggling to spit it out.