This is just too much!
Turns out this sleazy couple really hooked up behind my back—imagine me, totally clueless this whole time!
A wave of humiliation I'd never felt before hit me hard.
Tom Cruise grabbed his glass, ready to smash it on the floor in a fit of rage!
But right then, Dunn piped up, "A collaboration? Sure, why not? If we team up, we could totally make a classic action flick!"
Tom's hand froze mid-air, glass still in grip. He blinked for a second or two, then slowly set it down on the table. Taking a few deep breaths, that tense look on his face melted back into his usual professional smile.
Like nothing had even happened.
"If that's the case, then awesome! I'm sure Paramount would back you big-time to direct the sequel," Tom said, his eyes locked on Dunn. As for Nicole Kidman? He couldn't be bothered to glance her way!
Nicole clearly knew the jig was up. Her face turned sour, and she shot Dunn a death glare—though, oddly, it came with a bit of relief.
Dunn didn't flinch. He just smirked, totally in control.
This is Hollywood, after all. Stars hooking up and breaking up? It's just another Tuesday.
With Tom Cruise's work ethic and professionalism, Dunn was confident he could keep things chill and avoid a blow-up.
Plus, he'd been itching to kick off another movie shoot soon—maybe cash in on a little system glitch for some free perks.
And now, with Tom showing up on his doorstep, Dunn didn't even have to lift a finger to hunt down a project. Score!
"But my schedule's tight," Dunn said. "I'd need to lock in the pitch, script, and casting within a month, start shooting mid-October, film for two or three months, then wrap post-production in another two. Goal's to finish before next year's Oscars."
Tom blinked, stunned. "Dude, that's insane!" he said, shaking his head. "Too rushed. Paramount would never sign off. This is a billion-dollar A-list blockbuster—just the pitch approval takes them two or three months!"
Dunn frowned. "That slow, huh?"
Tom got serious. "Dunn, this movie's budget is gonna hit 120 million. Any studio would treat it like gold."
"That's a problem…" Dunn mused for a sec. "What about funding through other channels?"
"Nope," Tom shot back. "My production company's locked into a deal with Paramount—Mission: Impossible has to go through them for funding and distribution." Then he grinned. "But no rush, right? You just wrapped Star Wars—got post-production ahead. We can wait. Maybe kick things off next summer?"
Dunn rolled his eyes so hard they nearly popped out.
He wanted to exploit this system glitch now, milk Spielberg-level skills for free over the next six months, and churn out a quick movie for some easy cash.
By next summer, that glitch would be gone. And with Dunn's taste, would he even bother with something like Mission: Impossible?
Please. Ridiculous!
He glanced at Nicole across the table and caught her shooting him a look that could kill.
Stifling a laugh, Dunn sighed, "Sorry, Tom, next summer's booked for me."
Tom's face darkened instantly.
If work was off the table, he wasn't about to stick around and watch these two flirt right in front of him.
Seeing Tom about to bolt, Dunn jumped in, "Hey, Tom, quick question—what's your box office goal for Mission: Impossible 2?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
With no collab in sight, Tom dropped the nice-guy act, his tone sharp.
Dunn smiled like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "If your expectations aren't sky-high, maybe I can still help out a little."
"Oh?" Tom's eyes lit up, excitement creeping back in. "You serious, Dunn?"
"Totally!" Dunn said with confidence. "Look, Nicole and I are tight—real tight. And you… you're her husband. At least for now, right?"
That line basically screamed he and Nicole had something going on.
Nicole snapped, "Dunn, what the hell are you saying?!"
Tom just furrowed his brow, ignoring her outburst, acting like Dunn's words didn't faze him. "Then great—I've been looking forward to working together."
"Nicole, chill, it's fine," Dunn said with a grin, waving her down. "Tom's not petty. He won't care."
Nicole was fuming, practically grinding her teeth, ready to tear him apart.
Tom wasn't loving Dunn's vibe either—it felt like a slap in the face. "Director Walker, if we're talking business, let's keep it professional. Personal stuff can wait."
"Of course, haha! So, Tom, what's your target?" Dunn asked, still smirking.
"The first Mission: Impossible had an $80 million budget—did $180 million in North America, $450 million worldwide. For the sequel, we're pumping in $120 million. Box office? I'd say over $200 million in North America, $500 million global. Bigger budget, bigger return, right?"
Nicole was done with Tom by now—especially how he just shrugged off Dunn's blatant "I'm stealing your wife" attitude. It pissed her off to no end.
This marriage? Toast.
Hearing Tom's spiel, she couldn't help but scoff, "More money doesn't guarantee a hit. Tons of sequels tank after a solid first film—Hollywood's littered with 'em!"
"Enough, Ms. Kidman!" Tom snapped. "Walker and I are talking business—stay out of it!"
"You—" Nicole was so mad she could've passed out. "Fine, Tom Cruise, we're done. Divorce!"
"Divorce? Hell yes!" Tom fired back, red-faced and raging, looking anything but a superstar.
Dunn, the mastermind behind this mess, just snickered. They were headed for splitsville anyway—he only gave it a nudge.
"Alright, cool it, both of you," Dunn said. "Paparazzi are probably swarming outside—don't give 'em a show. Nicole, listen to me, take a breather." He acted like he owned her, taking charge. "Tom, let's stick to work."
Tom's expression flattened. "That's my ask. As for you and Ms. Kidman? I don't know, don't care."
"Perfect!"
Dunn was over the moon inside. He loved it when people handed him demands—deals were his jam.
"Dunn…" Nicole murmured, catching Tom's drift and despising him for it. A guy who'd trade his wife? Pathetic.
She didn't want Dunn roped into this mess either.
"It's cool," Dunn said, giving her a reassuring look before turning back to Tom with a grin. "Easy fix—I'll hook you up with a director. With him on board, your sequel's box office will hit your target, guaranteed."
"That's… not ideal," Tom said, frowning. "I don't have budget room for a Spielberg-tier name!"
Dunn laughed. "Relax, Tom, it's a steal—quality and cheap!"
"Oh? Who?" Tom leaned in, intrigued.
"John Woo."
Tom blanked.
Nicole smirked, "Seriously? He just won Best Director at the Saturn Awards in June for Face/Off!"
Tom nodded, finally clicking. "That Asian director? Can he… handle it?"
Dunn raised an eyebrow. "What, racist much?"
Tom flinched. "No, of course not!"
"Good," Dunn said coolly. "I'm telling you, John Woo's your guy for Mission: Impossible 2."
"But what if—"
"No 'what ifs,'" Dunn cut in, waving a hand like a boss. "Cruise, I'm giving you my word!"
That's a big deal in the States—especially for someone with clout. Your word's your bond.
The deal came together fast.
Tom tried roping Dunn in as a producer for Mission: Impossible 2, but he passed—couple hundred grand wasn't worth his energy.
After a drink, Dunn grinned, "So, we good for today? Nicole, wanna swing by my place?"
"Huh?"
Nicole's jaw dropped. Dunn's hints had been subtle before—now he was straight-up asking!
Tom just shrugged, unbothered. "You two figure it out—I'm out." At the door, he turned back. "Oh, Ms. Kidman, I'll send the divorce papers soon. All per the prenup."
Soon, it was just Dunn and Nicole in the room.
Dunn smirked, sipping his wine like a smug champ. "Nicole, I handled him for you."
"Should I thank you or something?" she shot back, arms crossed, staring him down.
Dunn chuckled, "Nah, no need. We had a deal, right? You didn't forget?"
"That was private—you can't blab about it, especially not to Tom!" Nicole snapped, losing it.
"What's the difference?" Dunn shrugged. "You're already separated—divorce is just a formality."
"That's my business, not yours!"
"Nicole, you're breaking my heart here," Dunn said, pouting like a kicked puppy. "I stuck my neck out for you—gave him my guarantee!"
"That's your own scheme—it's got nothing to do with me!" she huffed.
"My scheme?" Dunn grinned wickedly. "What scheme?"
"Don't play dumb—you just want to—" Nicole stopped mid-sentence, glaring. "Dunn, is this fun for you?"
He laughed. "Yeah, kinda! Come on, let's head to my place!"
"No way!"
"What? We had a deal!"
"A deal?" Nicole smirked sarcastically. "Didn't you promise me an Oscar nom?"
"Duh, that's a done deal!"
"Then we'll talk when it happens!"
With that, she stormed out. This was Beverly Hills—she wasn't about to stroll out arm-in-arm with Dunn.
"Nicole, you can't escape me!" he yelled after her.
She glanced back, smirking. "Not yet, you can't catch me!"
belamy20