Just like Dunn had feared, things were spiraling into a mess he couldn't have predicted. The news that he was under FBI investigation and his company's assets were frozen spread like wildfire overnight. Papers like *The New York Times*, *The Washington Post*, and others splashed it across their front pages—not just the entertainment section, but the whole dang newspaper!
---
The media went nuts. Every outlet—newspapers, TV stations, you name it—was glued to this bombshell, the hottest story in the U.S. right now. Disney's AB Group and 20th Century Fox's Fox Network were especially relentless, hyping it up even more than last year's scandals about the president and that billionaire. Those were just moral slap-on-the-wrist stories; this was full-on crime territory!
Outside Dunn Films, reporters swarmed like bees. AB even rolled out a helicopter, swooping down for dramatic aerial shots of Dunn's "major crime investigation." It was a PR circus like nothing he'd ever seen. Sure, Dunn Walker's name had popped up in headlines over the years, but this? This was next-level fame.
Dunn was *the* topic on everyone's lips across America. Hollywood bigshot, famous director, $7 billion fortune, economic crimes, Natalie Portman's boyfriend, rumored fling of Nicole Kidman and Kate Winslet… every tidbit was dinner-table gossip gold.
Inside Dunn Films, morale was a wreck. Dunn sat in his office, his face dark as coal, like a lion bottling up a volcano of rage. Even his usually bubbly assistant, Ella Fisher, tiptoed around him, barely daring to breathe.
"Still no word from Brian?" Dunn growled, standing by the window. He glanced up, spotted a helicopter hovering overhead, and yanked the curtains shut in a huff.
Ella hesitated. "Mr. Lord's working hard to get in touch with the White House. Mr. Mechanic's got the legal team suing to lift the FBI's restrictions ASAP."
"Damn it, a 'law-abiding society,' my ass! No court order, and the FBI freezes my assets? What the hell?!" Dunn gritted his teeth, fuming.
Ella paused, then mumbled, "Um, Dunn, there's something else. Should I…?"
He waved a hand dismissively. "These past two days, I've had enough bad news. Go on, what now?"
Her face flashed with anger. "It's Jerry Bruckheimer—he's out of the project."
"What?!"
"He says his production company's got a first-look deal with Disney. They've got a new project called *Pearl Harbor*, so he's bailing."
"Bullshit!" Dunn slammed the desk. "That project's been in the works forever—they're already shooting! He's feeding me this crap now?"
Ella huffed. "Disney's gotta be behind it!"
Dunn's lips curled into a icy smirk. "No doubt Disney's pulling strings, but Jerry's big enough to ignore them. He's choosing to kick me while I'm down—plain and simple."
"What a jerk!" Ella stomped her foot. "We should've locked him into a contract with a fat penalty clause!"
Dunn shrugged coolly. "Nah, this is fine. Now we know who's a friend and who's a snake. Jerry Bruckheimer? Heh, noted!"
Just then, his other assistant, Reese Witherspoon, burst in, beaming. "Dunn, someone's sticking up for us!" She'd been filming a comedy with MGM but took leave to support the company through this mess, earning her major love from the team as the resident sweetheart.
"Oh? Who?" Dunn asked.
"Mel Gibson!"
Reese's cheeks flushed with excitement. "He just did an interview with B Network and backed Dunn Films 100%. Said you're a law-abiding guy who'd never break the rules, and all this irresponsible media chatter is straight-up slander!"
Ella, being Aussie like Mel, grinned proudly. "Mel's a real stand-up guy—I knew he'd come through!"
Dunn took a deep breath and nodded firmly. Mel Gibson's loyalty wasn't new to him. With the whole country laughing at Dunn Films' expense, Mel was the first to step up, even throwing out the "slander" card. That kind of support? Dunn wouldn't forget it. No matter what, he'd make sure Mel didn't suffer the tragic fate he'd faced in another life—he'd rewrite that story!
Right then, his private phone buzzed. Brian Lord calling.
"How's it going?" Dunn's voice was heavy.
Brian, though, sounded chill—almost amused. "Dunn, I've been around 40-something years, and today I finally got it: sometimes a loss is a blessing!"
Dunn snorted bitterly. "A blessing? I'd rather skip this kind of 'blessing' right now."
"No, no, I mean something else," Brian pivoted. "I'm talking about how those accounting firms screwed you over the past few years."
Dunn groaned. "Don't remind me! I just figured out those firms are cozy with the tax folks. The more taxes they file, the bigger the refunds they snag. It's a racket—screwing over clients for profit! No wonder the mega-rich and big companies hire their own tax teams. Too many shady tricks!"
"Ha! Exactly—sometimes a loss is a blessing!" Brian seemed to enjoy Dunn's rare meltdown. Usually, Dunn was all sunshine and cool-headedness—seeing him rattled was a treat.
Dunn frowned. "Alright, cut to it—what's up?"
Brian lowered his voice. "Just got back from the White House. The president saw your tax records from the last three years. He was floored!"
"Floored? Probably laughing at how dumb I was," Dunn quipped, then his eyes lit up. "Wait—Brian, you mean he was *shocked*?"
Brian chuckled. "Oh yeah. Anyone who sees your tax returns would be. Personal income tax? A clean 4%. Corporate tax? A whopping 43.84%. Dunn, an honest, tax-paying citizen like you? One in a million!"
"Ha!" Dunn burst out laughing, tears streaming down his face. Back then, he'd been clueless, bled dry by taxes thanks to those firms—it'd stung like hell. But now? That insane tax history was his golden ticket, proof he was a law-abiding patriot! No wonder Brian said a loss could be a blessing. If he hadn't overpaid back then, this mess would've been way tougher to dodge.
With the White House impressed by his squeaky-clean image, this farce might finally end. Dunn's mood brightened like the sun breaking through clouds. "Brian, when do they lift the asset freeze and travel ban?"
Brian got serious. "Dunn, you played the stock market hard. Wall Street's bleeding, and you—a movie guy—raked in billions. Any regulator would blink twice. But your tax record's got the White House on your side. If the investigation shows no shady backers and a clean slate, the ban's gone. They'll even give you a formal nod."
"How long?"
"Two, three days tops. The White House doesn't like this mess either."
Dunn exhaled, grinning. "Good. Thanks, Brian—you're a lifesaver."
"Psh, it's my job," Brian laughed, then whispered, "Time to move, though. Your public image can't take a hit."
"Got it!" Dunn hung up and thought for a sec, then shout, "Ella, tell Bill to jump on the Tarz TV deal—close it fast. Reese, get Warner Bros' Alan Horn on the line. I wanna chat."
Reese's eyes widened, puzzled.
Dunn smirked. "Tell him the *Blade* project hit a snag. Ask if he's up for teaming up with Dunn Films to develop the series together."
Right now, Fox's parent company News Corp and Disney's AB Network were the loudest hyping his downfall. Time Warner, though? They'd stayed cool-headed. Dunn didn't mind tossing them a slice of the *Blade* pie to seal an alliance and stage a killer comeback.
He'd rushed *Blade* into production to block Warner's "first-look" dibs anyway. This was just speeding up the plan a bit!