Chapter 121: Rising Tides
The numbers were starting to pile up.
Sleepless in Seattle — $20 million.
Indecent Proposal — $25 million.
Schindler's List — $20 million.
And now, another $10 million poured into Bram Stoker's Dracula.
Add to that two new multimillion-dollar villas in Bel Air and Pacific Palisades, and Dawnlight Pictures was suddenly running lean again — just $5 million in liquid assets remained.
---
Thankfully, Ghost was still printing money.
The North American box office had crossed $220 million, bringing in another $7.6 million in final revenue shares.
Overseas, the film had grossed $280 million, and Dawnlight's 25% take meant a staggering $70 million in foreign revenue.
Add home video and TV rights, and the total haul for Dawnlight exceeded $100 million.
After currency conversions, fees, and expenses, Aaron's studio cleared an astonishing $85 million in profit — their biggest windfall yet.
Naturally, success had its rewards.
Director Edward Zwick, stars Kevin Costner and Nicole Kidman, producer David Geffen, and the rest of the creative team collectively earned over $12 million in post-release bonuses.
---
Beverly Hills — Morning
Aaron strolled into a luxury car dealership with Jack Wells, sunglasses perched on his collar.
"See anything you like?" Aaron asked, his tone easy. "Whatever it is — take it."
Jack grinned. "In that case, I'm driving out of here in a Lamborghini."
Aaron laughed. "Then pick your color."
Even though Jack had earned nearly a million this year, spending Aaron's money always felt sweeter.
As they wandered between polished metal and showroom glass, something caught Aaron's eye.
"Hey, is that the new Mazda?"
The salesman nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, sir — the new RX-7. It's just launched. Complete redesign this year."
A compact sports car — sleek, sharp, and aggressively Japanese.
Japanese automakers were dominating the global market, and even Aaron had to admit it — they built damn good machines.
Jack frowned. "A Japanese car? Come on, Aaron. You're rich enough to go American or European — Ferrari, at least."
Aaron shrugged. "I don't care what it is, as long as it doesn't get stuck in traffic."
Jack burst out laughing. "You don't race a Rolls-Royce, huh?"
Aaron just grinned. "Exactly."
---
Hollywood — Club 42, That Night
Music pulsed through the dim-lit lounge as Aaron leaned back on the leather sofa, one arm around Salma Hayek.
She tilted her head toward him, eyes bright.
"I got the call from the Sleepless in Seattle team. I'm flying to set soon."
Aaron smiled. "Good. Even a small role is a start. I'll have an agent lined up for you — someone who can get you more work."
She nodded, radiant with excitement. It was only a few minutes of screen time, but it meant something.
Her first real step in Hollywood.
"Let's get out of here," Salma whispered.
Aaron finished his drink, eyes glinting in the light. "Let's go."
---
By the time he returned home, Aaron's mind had already shifted gears — to Wall Street.
With millions now sitting in Dawnlight's accounts, he wanted his money to work.
And lately, one name had been on everyone's lips: Microsoft.
In June, the tech giant had executed its third stock split — this time, a two-for-three.
Shares were hovering around $85, and the company's market value had surged past $19 billion.
Aaron didn't hesitate.
He quietly founded a private investment firm — Dawn Capital — and began acquiring Microsoft stock in bulk.
Hollywood might run on fame and illusion, but Aaron knew where the real future was being built:
in silicon, not celluloid.
And for the first time, he was ready to play both worlds — the dream and the machine — at once.
--
By late October, Dawn Capital had quietly acquired nearly 600,000 shares of Microsoft—
an investment worth over $50 million.
Aaron leaned back in his Bel Air villa's office, phone still warm in his hand.
A slow grin tugged at his lips.
"So that means… I now own 0.27% of Microsoft?"
He let out a low whistle, pulse quickening.
In the future, when this company's worth a couple trillion... 0.27% will be a fortune.
He couldn't help but laugh. "We'll keep buying."
---
Dawnlight still had about $30 million in reserve, much of it allocated to Scent of a Woman.
Meanwhile, the old financing loan for The Silence of the Lambs was nearing maturity —
but Aaron wasn't worried.
Not anymore.
He could walk into any bank in Los Angeles, hand over a film's rights as collateral,
and they'd compete to give him money.
No one in the business refused a Dawnlight project now.
---
That morning, Aaron drove his Mazda RX-7 toward Sony Studios in Culver City.
On the lot, the set of Bram Stoker's Dracula was alive with movement and deep red light —
the final rehearsals were underway.
Director Francis Ford Coppola was in his element, surrounded by Gary Oldman, Winona Ryder, Keanu Reeves, and Anthony Hopkins.
Even during rehearsal, the gothic atmosphere was palpable.
Coppola turned as Aaron approached.
"Aaron, I'm heading to the UK next week to inspect the Pinewood sets myself. I want to make sure everything's perfect. I'll leave the L.A. work in your hands."
He was notoriously meticulous —
costumes, lighting, props, architecture — everything had to meet his exacting vision.
Aaron smiled. "Don't worry, Francis. I'll join you in London soon enough. Pinewood's on my list."
Coppola grinned. "Good. I'll also swing by Paris later for location checks. You'll need to oversee more than usual here — I'm counting on you."
That wasn't a casual favor.
It was trust — earned through results.
Coppola's son, Roman, was serving as assistant director;
Michael Apted, originally considered for the screenplay, had stepped in as producer;
and Charles Mulvehill represented Columbia's side.
But Aaron was the one Coppola wanted closer to the creative heart of production.
After all, Ghost had shattered expectations with over $500 million worldwide.
Dawnlight's logo now meant success — and everyone knew it.
Even Sleepless in Seattle's buzz was riding that same momentum.
Aaron adjusted his cufflinks and nodded. "Of course. Dawnlight's invested in this — we'll see it through."
Coppola gave a satisfied smile, clapping him on the shoulder.
---
"By the way," Francis added, "how's that project with Al coming along?"
He meant Scent of a Woman.
Aaron chuckled. "Casting's nearly done. We'll start soon. Winona will even drop by to do a short cameo."
Balancing two prestige films wasn't easy, but Aaron had a system — and he thrived under it.
The Scent of a Woman budget sat around $17 million,
most of it due to Al Pacino's salary.
He'd commanded $5 million for The Godfather: Part III,
and thanks to the post–Pretty Woman boom, his base rate had only gone higher.
Still, for this project — a quiet, character-driven drama he loved —
Pacino agreed to take $4.5 million.
It was a rare gesture of passion over money — and Aaron respected that.
---
Stepping into the rehearsal space, Aaron was greeted warmly.
"Morning, Mr. Anderson."
"Good to see you, sir."
Crew, producers, and actors all paused briefly to nod his way.
"Morning," Aaron replied easily, scanning the stage.
It was subtle, but unmistakable — the way conversations softened when he entered,
the respect in their tone, the quiet acknowledgment that this once upstart producer
had become a power in Hollywood.
From Bel Air to Broadway, from studio lots to stock markets —
Aaron Anderson's name now carried weight.
And with every investment, every film, every risk —
that weight was only rising.