“We're one team. Of course we should go together.”
With that, Weston and the rest of the group followed suit.
When Donald arrived at Violet Pavilion, Mario was sitting on the director's chair, discussing with the
assistant director how they were going to shoot the next scene.
“Hey, who are you? Who let you in here?”
While Mario was instructing two actors, Donald barged through the attempts of the staff to hold him
back as he confronted the former.
“Mr. Mario Cousteau?”
“I am he. Who are you?”
Mario was around thirty years old. The fact that he became a famous director at such a young age was
a testament to his skills.
“I'm from Dragon Fide Entertainment, and we have reserved Violet Pavilion for filming beforehand. Can
you tell me why you didn't seek our permission before you took over the set?”
Donald's words instantly sparked laughter among Mario's crew.
“Who the hell do you think you are to come here spouting nonsense? Since when does Mr. Cousteau
need your permission for using this place?”
With Roman Riquelme speaking on behalf of Mario, the latter maintained his silence and allowed his
subordinate to deal with the problem.
As a famous director, Mario was naturally not a fool.
As a famous director, Mario was naturally not a fool.
He would definitely not get into open conflict with Donald until he was certain of the latter's background.
Otherwise, if pictures of him striking Donald were to be taken by the paparazzi, it would damage his
movie's reputation.
Faced with Roman's brazen tone, Donald sniggered. “Are you claiming that permission to use the set
isn't needed?”
“That's right. That's exactly what I meant. If you're upset, you should take this up with the management
of Violet Pavilion. Let's see if they'll side with you.”
No soon had Roman spoken than Gina, the person in charge of Violet Pavilion, ran over from afar.
Gina didn't recognize Donald but knew who Weston was.
She first approached Mario and apologized obsequiously, “I'm really sorry, Mr. Cousteau. I didn't expect
the matter to escalate to this extent. This is my mistake. I'll fix it at once.”
Mario simply gestured for her to resolve the matter quickly.
Turning around, Gina recovered the haughty expression on her face and scolded, “Mr. Tanner, what's
the meaning of this? You might be a new director, but it's still no excuse to be not aware of the industry
rules.”
“Gina, my crew has a very tight schedule. If we can't complete shooting our scenes here this week, we
won't have time to do so the next week.”
Oblivious to Gina's condescending tone, Weston began to share his difficulties with her, thinking that
the latter would be gracious enough to empathize with his situation.
Little did he expect her to snort in response. “How can you, a new director, not know that you need to
show your seniors any respect? Instead, you keep harping on the fact that you have a tight schedule.
There's no way someone like you can produce a good movie. You're nothing but a piece of thrash.”
Arms folded, Gina continued, “At this very moment, Dynasty Studios officially annuls our contract with
you. Now, get lost and stop interrupting Mr. Cousteau's filming.”
Weston flew into a fit of rage at Gina's words.
“How can you indiscriminately cancel a contract that we have signed?”
“What's the big deal? We'll just pay the stated penalty. It's not like we can't afford it.”
At Gina's cue, a staff member brought over a box.
Gina subsequently opened it and poured all the money inside at Weston's feet.
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