Inside a lounge at a private club, Harvey Weinstein sat at a small table, his stubby fingers fumbling as he plugged a USB drive into his laptop. Across from him, Amber Heard quietly observed his reaction, her demeanor calm yet inwardly calculating.
The video file on the USB drive opened. It wasn't long—barely over a minute—and the quality wasn't particularly clear. The shaky footage appeared to have been captured by a hidden camera, its angle slightly skewed as if the camera had been placed hastily.
Harvey leaned in, his beady eyes narrowing as the video began to play. Onscreen, Matthew Horner appeared, his expression wild, his actions erratic. He shoved Amber roughly, his movements resembling those of someone in a drug-fueled frenzy. His aggressive behavior escalated until Amber stumbled and fell, knocking over what appeared to be the hidden camera, causing the footage to abruptly cut off.
Harvey rewound the video, playing it again. A sinister smile slowly spread across his face as he watched Matthew's unhinged performance.
"How is this not perfect?" he muttered to himself, the wheels in his mind turning rapidly.
Amber, sitting across from him, played her part convincingly. She feigned a slight nervousness, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Harvey, this wasn't easy to get," she said in a quiet voice, as if still shaken by the events.
Harvey's thick fingers tapped on the laptop's keyboard as he paused the video. "It's good," he admitted, though his tone carried a hint of dissatisfaction. "But why is it so short?" He turned his gaze to Amber, his expression expectant.
Amber had anticipated this question. She had rehearsed her response countless times in front of a mirror, ensuring every detail sounded believable. "I could only hide the camera in one place," she explained, her voice trembling just enough to sound genuine. "Matthew is... you know how he is. He's so domineering. I barely managed to get him to that spot. And when he started to get violent, I... I accidentally knocked over the bag where the camera was hidden." She lowered her eyes, as if ashamed of her "failure."
Harvey seemed to accept her explanation, turning back to the screen and replaying the video for the third time. "He looks completely deranged," he muttered, more to himself than to Amber. "A drugged-out lunatic... perfect."
The footage might not have been explicit, but it was damning nonetheless. Matthew's erratic behavior and physical aggression were undeniable. Harvey could already imagine the headlines and the media storm this video would unleash. Combined with Amber's testimony, it would be enough to paint Matthew as an unhinged abuser.
Amber seized the opportunity to add more fuel to the fire. "I still have the clothes I was wearing that day," she said, her voice steady but quiet. "There are... stains. From him. If necessary, I can hand them over to the police."
Harvey's grin widened. He leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped over his sizable belly. "Good," he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "Very good."
For years, he had been waiting for a moment like this—a chance to completely ruin Matthew Horner. The man who had outmaneuvered him, humiliated him, stolen projects and profits that should have been his... Matthew had become a thorn in his side, a constant reminder of his own failures. But now, Harvey finally had the upper hand.
He looked back at Amber, his tone softening slightly. "You've done well, Amber. Very well."
Amber offered him a hesitant smile, her eyes still downcast. "I just want to help," she murmured. "You've always been so supportive of me, Harvey. I wouldn't be where I am today without you."
Harvey chuckled, his ego swelling with her words. "You've proven your loyalty," he said. "Don't worry. When this is all over, I'll make sure you get what you deserve."
Amber nodded, silently marveling at how easily he swallowed her act. Inside, she felt a mix of revulsion and triumph. She had played her role perfectly, feeding him exactly what he wanted to hear while secretly working for the other side.
Harvey stood, his large frame looming over the table. He reached for a cigar from his pocket, lighting it with a flick of his gold-plated lighter. Blowing out a puff of smoke, he glanced at Amber one last time. "You've done your part. Now, leave the rest to me."
Amber rose from her seat, clutching her purse tightly. "If you need anything else, just let me know," she said softly before walking toward the door.
As she exited the lounge and made her way to her car, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of exhilaration. The first part of the plan had gone off without a hitch. Harvey had taken the bait, and soon, he would find himself ensnared in a trap of his own making.
Back at Horner Manor, Matthew was reviewing the timeline with Helen Herman and Amanda in his study. The walls were covered with pinned notes, printed documents, and photographs, resembling a detective's caseboard. At the center was a large portrait of Harvey Weinstein, surrounded by arrows pointing to various names, dates, and events.
Helen tapped a red marker against her notepad. "Amber's delivery was flawless," she said. "From what we've gathered, Harvey is convinced he has a smoking gun. He's already begun mobilizing his PR team."
Amanda nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. "He's going to go public with this soon. He'll think he's orchestrating a media coup, but we'll be ready to counter every move he makes."
Matthew leaned back in his chair, his expression calm but resolute. "He's walking straight into our hands. Let him think he's won. The bigger his ego gets, the harder the fall will be."
Helen glanced at the board, her gaze lingering on a particular name. "What about Ronan Farrow? When do we bring him in?"
"Not yet," Matthew replied. "We wait until Harvey's committed publicly. Once he's out in the open, we hit him with everything we've got."
Amanda crossed her arms, her voice firm. "This has to be airtight. No loose ends. No room for him to maneuver."
"It will be," Matthew assured her. His eyes darkened as he looked at Harvey's portrait. "This isn't just about me anymore. It's about every person he's hurt, every career he's destroyed. He thinks he's untouchable, but he's about to learn just how wrong he is."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of their mission hanging heavy in the air.
Finally, Helen broke the silence. "Then let's make sure we're ready. This time, there's no coming back for him."
Matthew nodded, his jaw tightening with determination. "Harvey Weinstein wanted a war," he said quietly. "Now he's got one."
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