Walking through the scattered crowd in the banquet hall, Harvey Weinstein made his way toward Matthew, drawing the attention of several onlookers.
Standing calmly in a quiet corner of the hall, Matthew didn't shy away or show any reaction. He continued chatting casually with Michael Fassbender and James McAvoy, appearing relaxed and composed.
"Harvey Weinstein is coming over," James McAvoy muttered softly.
"It's fine," Matthew said nonchalantly. "Let him come."
Michael Fassbender glanced toward Weinstein. "Let's see what this guy wants."
Just as he finished speaking, Harvey quickened his pace and arrived in front of their small group.
As always, Harvey's voice was gruff, his demeanor familiar. "Good evening, Matthew," he said.
Matthew nodded at him with a calm smile. "Good evening, Harvey."
This was Hollywood: even when people wanted to strangle each other, they maintained the façade of civility, pretending everything was perfectly fine. The banquet hall wasn't just full of actors and producers—it was also attended by prominent media professionals, so appearances had to be kept up.
"You've been pretty lucky lately," Harvey said, his tone seemingly congratulatory but laced with sarcasm. "A string of box office hits, the reputation of a golden producer… not bad."
Hearing this thinly veiled jab, James McAvoy couldn't help himself. "Matthew's instincts as an investor are leagues better than yours."
Harvey turned to James, his gaze suddenly sharp and intense.
But James, who had never worked with Weinstein, was unfazed. He shrugged and said, "Glaring doesn't kill people."
Michael Fassbender chimed in. "Envy is easy. Achieving what Matthew has? That's something else entirely."
Harvey stared at both James and Michael, then slowly nodded. "James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender… I know who you are."
James was unimpressed. "Lots of people in Hollywood know who we are."
Michael just smiled. Like Matthew, both had clawed their way up from the bottom. They had endured countless struggles to reach where they were.
Matthew looked at Harvey. "Harvey, are you here just to congratulate me?" His thick skin was on full display. "Well, I accept your congratulations."
Harvey's gaze shifted back to Matthew, his irritation mounting. Congratulate him? Was this guy out of his mind? We're enemies!
Trying to regain control of the conversation, Harvey raised his voice. "Matthew, I came here to remind you of something: no one's luck lasts forever!"
"Is that so?" Matthew replied with ease. "But I'm blessed by the goddess of fortune, so I'm not part of your 'everyone.'"
Harvey glared at him. I'm here to declare war, and this is how you respond? His relaxed tone and dismissive attitude made it impossible for Harvey to maintain any semblance of dominance.
"Harvey, I accept your congratulations," Matthew said again, his tone light. "You can leave now."
"Good! Very good!" Harvey snarled, his voice trembling with suppressed anger. Though infuriated, he wasn't stupid enough to lash out publicly. He turned his attention to Michael Fassbender. "You're not winning an Oscar!" he declared.
If anyone else had made that statement, it could have been laughed off. But when it came from Harvey Weinstein—known as an Oscar kingmaker—it was impossible to ignore.
Michael, however, seemed unfazed. "That's fine. I've got a lot more years ahead of me than you do."
James McAvoy quipped, "Don't worry about us. You're not outlasting any of us."
Harvey's words caught in his throat. He knew they were right—time wasn't on his side. How could he outlast these three younger men?
Suppressing the urge to run his hand over his graying hair, Harvey suddenly felt the weight of time pressing down on him. Time is my enemy, he realized.
In five or six years, Matthew's influence would only grow. At his current age, Harvey would find it even harder to settle old scores. Just the thought of Insidious, The Conjuring, and the so-called "Conjuring Universe" made his stomach churn with rage.
If it weren't for Matthew, those franchises would have been Weinstein Company's crown jewels.
Seeing The Conjuring's massive box office success was a constant reminder of what he had lost. A single film's profits could fund three years of Weinstein Company's Oscar campaigns.
Harvey clenched his fists. No more waiting. It's time to take Matthew Horner down once and for all.
The decision was made. He would strike during this awards season. If executed correctly, the resulting media buzz could even boost his own Oscar campaigns.
Still, walking away quietly wasn't his style. He turned back to Michael Fassbender. "You won't win an Oscar. I swear on the name Harvey Weinstein, you won't!"
Michael flashed his shark-like grin, ready to respond, but Matthew stepped in.
"Harvey," Matthew said firmly.
Both Michael and James fell silent. They had always stood by Matthew, unwavering in their loyalty.
"I can promise you something, too," Matthew said, his tone steady. He gestured toward the corner of the room where Anne Hathaway and Bradley Cooper were chatting, then added calmly, "They're not winning Oscars this year. Neither are your two Oscar contenders."
Harvey's face twisted into a sneer. "You think you can make that happen?" His voice dripped with disdain. This is my territory. Who gave you the confidence to say such a thing? "People should know their limits," he scoffed.
Matthew smiled, unbothered by the condescension. "I agree. Knowing your limits is important." He leaned in slightly. "Harvey, I have over $3 billion in personal wealth. Every film I've invested in has been a success. My studio's profit from a single film exceeds your company's annual earnings."
Harvey's expression darkened. He had no immediate retort.
"You see, I'm very aware of my capabilities," Matthew continued, his tone casual but cutting. "So tell me, Harvey—what do you have to compete with me?"
Before Harvey could reply, Matthew added, "Oh, right. You've lived longer, eaten more meals, drunk more water, and you've got more… let's call it 'extra weight.'"
Matthew wasn't interested in holding back anymore. Harvey had already attacked him publicly on television; there was no reason to maintain civility now.
Besides, Amber Heard had hinted that Harvey was growing impatient. Pushing him a little further might provoke more reckless actions.
Harvey's face turned even darker. "Matthew—"
"Go!" Matthew interrupted sharply, waving him off like an unwanted pest. "Go, Harvey. No one here likes you."
The corner of the banquet hall fell silent. It had originally been a quiet spot with just Matthew, Michael, and James. Even with Harvey's arrival, it remained sparsely populated.
Elsewhere in the hall, however, many were watching the interaction. Harvey had recently attacked Matthew on television, and the tension between them was well known. People were eager to see a heated argument or confrontation.
But the voices from the corner were too low to carry, and the body language of the group seemed calm. Michael's ever-present shark-like grin didn't help fuel the drama.
Finally, observers saw Harvey storm out of the corner, his face like thunder. He didn't stop to mingle but instead headed straight for the exit.
"What a disgusting guy," James muttered, frowning as he watched Harvey leave. "Does he really think he owns the Oscars?"
Michael, ever the realist, replied, "Don't underestimate his influence during awards season."
Matthew nodded. "Harvey can't guarantee anyone an Oscar, but he's certainly capable of sabotaging someone's chances."
James asked, "So we're just going to let him mess with Michael?"
Michael corrected him. "James, you used the wrong word."
Matthew, meanwhile, was deep in thought. Is it time to set the plan in motion?
James clapped his hands lightly, lowering his voice. "Remember when we first met, the things we went through? Matthew, Michael—let's fight together again!"
Michael didn't hesitate. "I'm in."
Matthew nodded firmly. "My feud with him has gone way past reconciliation."
"Then it's settled," James said, grinning. "What's the plan?"
Matthew's voice dropped to a near whisper. "Actually, I have a plan."
"Does it involve tiger balm?" James teased, winking. "Tell me how much you need, and I'll go buy it!"
The joke had all three of them laughing.
Meanwhile, outside the Hilton, Harvey got into his car and immediately called Amber Heard.
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