Chapter 116: I Don't Like the Way You Look at Her
There was no reason Aaron Anderson wouldn't pay attention to Basic Instinct.
It was a Carolco production, distributed by TriStar, and slated for next spring's release window—the same studio Aaron was now working with on his romantic comedy Sleepless in Seattle.
The runaway success of Ghost had turned Nicole Kidman, the once-unknown Australian actress, into Hollywood's new darling overnight.
Now that she was starring opposite Tom Hanks, no one dared to question the casting.
---
Beverly Hills. Four Seasons Hotel.
After the Sleepless in Seattle press conference, Nicole was practically glowing. She threw her arms around Aaron and kissed him several times, laughing breathlessly.
Aaron, lounging on the sofa, caught her waist and pulled her closer. "You've been on back-to-back promotions since Ghost. Cannes, Europe, Japan, then Australia—and now straight into another shoot. Aren't you exhausted?"
Nicole rested her head against his shoulder, smiling. "A little tired, sure… but it feels good. Fulfilling, you know?"
Aaron smiled knowingly. "Yeah. That's the high. The thrill of being wanted by the world."
Because that's what fame was, after all—a fever that burned brightest beneath the camera flashes.
---
"Hey, Aaron. Nicole."
A deep voice cut through the air. Harvey Weinstein had appeared beside them, a drink in hand and that ever-calculating glint in his eyes.
Aaron's expression didn't change. He glanced up and greeted him evenly. "Harvey. Long time no see. How've you been?"
Then he turned to Nicole, his tone gentle but deliberate. "Sweetheart, grab me a drink, will you?"
"Of course." Nicole smiled, got up gracefully, and headed for the bar.
Harvey watched her leave, his gaze following just a second too long. Aaron noticed.
The silence that followed was heavy enough to taste.
---
When Harvey finally spoke, it was with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Congratulations, Aaron. Really. You've done in two years what most people can't in ten."
Aaron chuckled softly. "There's nothing to congratulate me for. Miramax has been making its own waves—buying up every foreign art film in sight. Seems like every month, there's a new Miramax release. You're the one building an empire."
Harvey's grin faltered.
He knew Aaron was just being polite. The truth was harsher—Miramax's shotgun-buying strategy had become unsustainable. Their early festival wins had blinded the Weinstein brothers, and now the cracks were beginning to show.
Aaron leaned back, eyes steady and voice calm.
"Quantity doesn't equal quality, Harvey. Sometimes you spread the net too wide… and all you catch is seaweed."
For a moment, the two men just stared at each other — one cold and composed, the other simmering behind a forced smile.
Then Aaron's gaze flicked past Harvey — to Nicole, laughing with the bartender across the room.
When his eyes returned, his tone had shifted, quiet but edged with steel.
"And Harvey," Aaron said, his voice low, almost casual.
"I don't like the way you look at her."
Harvey's grin froze in place.
Aaron took his drink from a passing waiter, raised it slightly in mock salute, and added with a faint smile,
"Enjoy the party. I hear you're good at them."
Until now, most of Miramax's films had been financial failures. Even those that made a little profit were far too niche to be truly successful.
"Aaron, why don't we work together?"
Harvey now genuinely looked up to Aaron.
"Come on—let's find a quiet place to talk in detail," Aaron said, standing up with a calm smile as he placed a hand on Harvey's shoulder.
"Good, a quiet place!" Harvey replied eagerly, his round face glowing with delight.
Soon, Aaron Anderson and Harvey Weinstein were in a small conference room upstairs in the hotel.
"What a great spot," Aaron remarked with a grin, closing the door behind them. He reached into his pocket, took out a pair of white gloves, and slipped them on.
"Aaron, I've been thinking—" Harvey started, but before he could finish, Aaron's expression darkened, and his hand moved in a sharp blur.
A heavy smack rang out. Aaron's backhand caught Harvey square across the face, stunning him on the spot.
Then Aaron grabbed Harvey by the shoulders, his eyes cold and steady.
"Just now, the way you looked at Nicole—filthy. Disgusting. I don't like it."
With a sudden strike of his knee, a muffled groan escaped Harvey's mouth as he crumpled to the floor, clutching his groin, his face flushed an ugly shade of purple.
On the ground, Harvey glared up with fury. "Aaron, you—"
Before he could finish, Aaron seized him by the hair.
"Fat bastard," Aaron hissed. "Back in Cannes, you knew Nicole was my woman, and you still made a move on her. Now I'm a top producer worth hundreds of millions, and you still think you can act without limits?"
"Do your lustful urges make you that brave?"
Aaron tightened his grip, lifting Harvey's head violently.
"Aaron—please, I was wrong!" Harvey gasped, forced onto his knees, his hands trembling as he begged.
"If anything like this ever happens again…" Aaron bent down, his voice low and chilling near Harvey's ear, "…I guarantee the Weinstein brothers will vanish from Hollywood."
He patted Harvey's cheek. "Remember this—stay away from my woman. Do whatever you want at Miramax, I don't care. Just don't provoke me. You've already destroyed enough young actresses under your label. What do you think would happen if I found them and backed them in court?"
At that, Aaron released him. Harvey exhaled shakily. "Nothing happened tonight," he muttered.
He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly how dangerous Aaron Anderson had become. If Aaron decided to escalate, the consequences would be unimaginable.
"Smart," Aaron said with a faint smile, straightening his suit before stepping out of the room. He felt lighter—as if something long overdue had been settled.
Behind him, Harvey's pain twisted his face as he let out a low growl—half from agony, half from humiliation.
Later that night, Nicole Kidman lay in Aaron's arms.
"Aaron, did you do something to Harvey at the hotel? I saw him being helped out afterward."
Aaron smiled faintly, brushing her hair back. "Maybe he tripped. Too clumsy for his own good."
"You think I'm that naïve?" she said with a teasing frown.
"Fine," Aaron admitted with a chuckle. "I gave him a little… lesson. Perhaps a bit too strongly."
Nicole looked worried. "Won't that cause trouble?"
"No trouble at all," he said softly. "You saw how he looked at you—as if stripping you bare with his eyes. Back in Cannes, he tried the same thing, didn't he? I've wanted to handle him for a long time. And tonight, I finally had my chance."
Nicole smiled, kissing him lightly. "You're so possessive," she whispered. "You won't even let another man look at your woman?"
Maybe she was simply used to being looked at that way by now.