Chapter 79 – Unlucky Jordan
Early morning, inside a Bel-Air suite in Beverly Hills.
Nicole Kidman lay sprawled across Aaron's chest, still catching her breath beneath the sheets.
"You made a killing in the markets, didn't you?"
Aaron, refreshed and relaxed, traced a hand over her bare skin, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Oil futures. Pulled in a nice haul. Well? Your man's impressive, isn't he?"
Nicole giggled softly. "Mm, you're always impressive."
---
With fresh capital at hand, Aaron wasted no time. He drove straight to ICM to meet Nancy Josephson, ready to discuss acquiring the rights to Orion's The Silence of the Lambs.
"Aaron, be serious," Nancy started. "Orion doesn't just need promises. They're drowning. What they lack is—"
Before she could finish, Aaron pulled a cashier's check from First Intercontinental Bank—ten million dollars, right there on the table.
"Anything under fifteen million, ICM takes four percent commission. Dawnlight wants The Silence of the Lambs," Aaron said evenly.
"If Orion doesn't dare release it, then let me. I'll find the distributor. Straight-to-video? That's leaving money on the floor."
He leaned back. "Four percent on a deal this size isn't small change. We're talking eight figures here, not the little one- or two-million deals I cut my teeth on."
Aaron was no stranger to this game—he knew how to make the numbers talk. Going directly to Orion was risky; without ICM's network, they might refuse outright. Through Nancy, the deal could move quickly and quietly.
Nancy just stared at him, wide-eyed, hands gesturing in disbelief. "Where the hell did you suddenly—?"
Aaron cut her off smoothly. "Nancy, too many questions."
She exhaled, regrouped, then nodded. "Fine. If Dawnlight's got the cash, ICM isn't about to turn away business. We'll reach out to Orion immediately."
"Good. I'll be waiting for your good news."
---
Orion Pictures was bleeding out. Owned by John Kluge's Metromedia Group, the studio had been crippled by flop after flop. Bankruptcy loomed. And in its desperation, Orion was about to become Aaron's hunting ground.
Orion's films had been bleeding money. Owner John Kluge was preparing to push the studio into bankruptcy.
By mid-October, ICM came knocking with a group of producers, targeting The Silence of the Lambs. Producers Ronald Bozman and Edward Saxon, director Jonathan Demme, and lead actress Jodie Foster all wanted the film in theaters—not dumped straight to video.
"Mr. Kluge, we have an offer of $13 million for the domestic rights to The Silence of the Lambs," Nancy Josephson pitched.
"With international rights already sold, that plus this deal covers Orion's $19 million production cost. In fact, you'd even be up four to five million."
Nancy had done her homework. For a thriller no one expected much from, selling domestic rights at seventy percent of cost was far from shabby.
But Kluge wasn't convinced. Sitting back, he said coolly, "Too low. Jodie Foster's an Academy Award winner. At least seventeen million."
Nancy shook her head. "The buyer is a devoted fan of the novel. He doesn't want to see it go direct-to-video. But once he purchases the rights, he still has to secure distribution himself. Seventeen million simply isn't possible.
"Mr. Kluge, Orion's priority now is Dances with Wolves. Why hold on to a project you don't believe in? Cash flow is what you need—for marketing Dances with Wolves and for the awards campaign ahead."
Kluge exhaled heavily. "Fifteen million. Orion can't walk away empty-handed. And I want cash."
Nancy considered, then countered smoothly. "If Orion agrees to fourteen million, I believe the buyer will pay immediately—cash, on signing."
Cash was irresistible. Within days, ICM closed the deal: Dawnlight Films acquired the domestic rights to The Silence of the Lambs for $14 million in cash. Nancy pocketed a $560,000 commission for ICM.
---
"Happy now?" Nancy said as she handed Aaron the contract, along with the film's master print.
Aaron turned the document over in disbelief. "I can't believe it. They let it go this easily? Orion really had so little faith in Silence?"
Nancy shrugged. "I spoke with the filmmakers myself. What matters is it's done. Now it's on you to secure a distributor. Demme, Jodie Foster, Anthony Hopkins—they're all waiting for you to get this into theaters."
Aaron nodded firmly. "Don't worry. I didn't spend this much money to shelve it. The Silence of the Lambs will make it to the big screen."
His $14.8 million oil windfall—gone in just two weeks. But the gamble was worth it.
---
That afternoon, Aaron stopped by the Angel Theater, where renovations were underway.
"Back from New York already?" he asked when Jack Wells finally appeared. He hadn't seen him in days.
"Pretty much," Jack said with a bitter laugh. "That company? A straight-up penny stock boiler room. Been around barely six months, and the boss had already raked in over a million. Hundreds of victims. The FBI opened a case, but the bastard already blew most of the money."
Jack had cooperated with police and the FBI—technically a victim himself, though his methods had been less than gentle.
"No wonder you were gone two weeks," Aaron chuckled. "Still… the guy's got talent."
Jack snorted. "Talent or not, he's going to prison. Over a million in fraud isn't pocket change. He's got the gift of the gab, sure, but he'll be selling it to inmates now. We weren't the only ones. Other victims showed up too, and he got worked over a few times—fortunately inside the station."
Aaron waved it off. "Small stuff. Just keep your focus on the theater renovation and the security company plans."
Then curiosity got the better of him. "So who was this guy? Any kind of résumé?"
Jack shook his head. "No résumé. Jordan Belfort. Twenty-eight. College dropout. Started as a salesman. That's where he learned to talk."
Aaron froze. His mind clicked. Jordan Belfort. Penny stocks. Boiler room.
This was the man Leonardo DiCaprio would one day immortalize as The Wolf of Wall Street.
"You mean… you beat Jordan Belfort bloody, and now the FBI's got him dead to rights on fraud? With evidence? He's going to prison?"
"Yeah," Jack said matter-of-factly. "A million-dollar scam? He's definitely going in."
Aaron exhaled slowly. So that's it. No Wolf of Wall Street. His empire ends before it even starts.
Jordan Belfort—snuffed out before his legend was born. Truly unlucky.