Chapter 761: Chapter 761: Two Sisters!
In the opulent suite at the Hilton Garden Inn in Boston, Alexandra Daddario gracefully fetched a bottle of wine and arranged three crystal glasses on the sleek bar.
Martin, taken aback, inquired, "Expecting someone else?"
Alexandra's icy gaze sparkled with mischief, akin to a playful husky awaiting a treat, as she quipped, "You know my tolerance for alcohol is not the greatest. I can barely handle a few sips. So, I thought I'd bring in some reinforcements to keep you company."
Martin, sensing her intentions, ventured, "You didn't call Catherine, did you?"
With a coy smile, Alexandra retorted, "Can't us sisters join you for a drink? Catherine and I share the same bloodline, you know."
Martin, ever the gentleman, replied, "It would be my pleasure."
Dialing a number, Alexandra summoned their guest with a swift command.
Moments later, a gentle knock echoed through the suite. Alexandra greeted the visitor at the door, ushering in Catherine Daddario, clad in an elegant white skirt.
The sisters, one in ebony and the other in ivory, bore an uncanny resemblance, leaving Martin intrigued by their presence.
Accepting the wine and glasses from Martin, Alexandra poured the crimson liquid into each vessel, initiating the evening's festivities. "Welcome to Boston, Catherine," Martin offered graciously.
Seated opposite Martin, Catherine raised her glass in a toast, reminiscing, "I recall our first meeting when I was just sixteen. Time truly flies; here I am, twenty already."
Aware of Martin's boundaries, Alexandra silently chided her sister, Bichi, while joining the toast, "Let's enjoy this moment together."
As Martin refilled his glass, Alexandra retrieved dried fruits from a concealed cupboard, arranging them delicately on a porcelain plate for Martin's enjoyment.
Meanwhile, Catherine nonchalantly displayed her iPhone, boasting about her recent Twitter post capturing their dinner. "People are positively envious," she giggled, scrolling through the flood of replies.
Martin, unimpressed, glanced at the screen, finding nothing noteworthy amidst the chatter.
Catherine, with a sly grin, accidentally swiped her finger, revealing a string of sultry selfies on her phone, strategically taken post-bath or wardrobe change, clearly designed to tantalize.
Seeming unfazed, Catherine smoothly redirected the screen, feigning innocence. Alexandra, observing the charade, marveled at her sister's adeptness in the art of seduction, a talent previously unnoticed.
With a note of caution, Alexandra interjected, "You should be wary, those photos could easily fall into the wrong hands if stored online."
Catherine shrugged off the concern, asserting confidently, "The Apple cloud is notoriously secure."
Suddenly, a flicker of realization crossed Martin's face as he interjected, "Actually, it's riskier to store sensitive material on the cloud. It's susceptible to hacking and leaks."
Catherine's expression shifted, and she hesitantly extended her phone towards Martin, admitting, "I'm not very tech-savvy. Could you delete them for me?"
The contents of the cloud held a trove of potentially scandalous photos and videos.
Before Martin could act, Alexandra swiftly intercepted the phone, declaring, "I'll take care of it."
Catherine lunged for the device, insisting, "I can handle it myself!"
Alexandra held her ground, refusing to relinquish control. With a decisive click, she opened a video showing Catherine consoling herself.
In that moment, Alexandra realized her sister was no ordinary troublemaker.
Sensing tension, Martin intervened, offering a diversion with a tightly sealed wine bottle for Catherine and a folding stool for Alexandra, humorously appointing himself as referee.
The threat of conflict diffused as the sisters shifted their focus to Martin, their expressions oscillating between anticipation and restraint.
Raising his glass, Martin proposed a toast, "Let's celebrate our newfound acquaintance and revel in this splendid evening together."
The clinking of glasses marked the beginning of a spirited night, as the trio shared laughter and emptied bottles.
In the midst of their revelry, Catherine produced a set of dice, initiating a risqué game where the loser shed a layer of clothing, reducing them to a primal state of fun and camaraderie.
As dawn broke, Martin departed for a morning shoot, leaving Alexandra to rest until her afternoon session.
Catherine, feeling sympathetic, leaned against her sister, acknowledging the complexities of their unconventional relationship.
Pushing her away gently, Alexandra retorted, "Don't be absurd. I relish this dynamic."
Catherine chuckled, "You're the one calling for mercy," before confiding, "For someone like Martin, even fidelity won't save his marriage."
Puzzled, Alexandra inquired, "Why's that?"
Catherine shrugged, "Who could endure it alone?"
With a sigh, Alexandra changed the subject, "Let's grab breakfast and hit the shops."
After freshening up, the sisters headed to the restaurant for breakfast before embarking on a stroll through Boston's bustling central business district.
Their dynamic, typically punctuated by banter and bickering, seemed to undergo a subtle shift, as if the walls of sibling rivalry had crumbled, fostering a newfound closeness between them.
---
In the studio, transformed into a cozy home setting, Martin lounged on the sofa clad in slippers and a casual shirt, a can of beer in hand, lost in contemplation.
It was a scene reminiscent of bygone days, steeped in nostalgia.
The character he portrayed was once a promising athlete, now drawn into a life of crime, a tale of familial legacy and circumstance.
"Cut! That's a wrap," Villeneuve called out.
Martin, abandoning his beer, approached the director's monitor, reviewing footage alongside Villeneuve.
Scrutinizing each shot, Villeneuve highlighted nuances and deviations, engaging Martin in thoughtful discourse.
Upon concluding their analysis, Villeneuve outlined the upcoming sequence, the protagonist's fondest memories unfolding in a series of vignettes.
"I'm familiar with the concept," Martin remarked.
Though personally estranged from such substances, Hollywood's pervasive culture ensured their omnipresence.
Villeneuve clarified, "We'll be using powdered vitamin B for the props."
Martin nodded in acknowledgment.
"Ten minutes until we roll," Villeneuve announced.
Retreating to the actors' lounge, Martin was intercepted by Bruce, who handed him his phone.
Blake Lively's message awaited him, expressing concern for his filming commitments.
"I'll be joining the shoot next week," she relayed.
"Welcome aboard," Martin replied warmly.
Within the crew, two leading ladies held prominence. Having secured the rights to "Prince of Thieves" during "John Wick" production, Martin had extended an invitation to Alexandra for the role of the heroine, a proposition she successfully seized.
As for Blake, her delayed realization dawned upon the dwindling opportunities for roles mirroring her teenage allure. With only a supporting role available in "The Bitch," she faced a pivotal juncture in her career transition, her time as a teen idol drawing to a close.
Blake's circumstances had improved considerably since her infamous role in "Green Lantern."
In a swift exchange of messages, Blake proposed, "Is your room vacant? I'd rather not have a separate one. I'll crash at yours directly."
Considering the logistics, Martin replied, "If you don't mind the tight quarters, you're welcome."
Expressing her dismay, Blake lamented, "I'm feeling really down. I was looking forward to some solitude, but now I have to share the space..."
Deciding to defer the conversation, Martin concluded, "I'm on set. We'll catch up later."
With that, he stowed away his phone, entrusting Bruce with any further correspondence.
---
At the set, a flurry of activity ensued as crew members meticulously transformed the room to its former setting.
Background walls were dismantled, furnishings swapped out from glass to wood, and the modern LCD TV replaced with a vintage model.
Two prop masters meticulously prepared essential items for the upcoming scene.
Taking charge of the wine props, Payne placed them carefully on the low wooden table before turning to his colleague, Brandon, inquiring, "Are the vitamins ready?"
Brandon, a cigarette between his lips, nodded affirmatively, "Ground them into powder this morning."
A note of caution from Payne, "Be sure not to mix up the items for the lead actor; it could cause complications."
Reassuringly, Brandon retrieved the prop bag, retorting, "No worries, I've got it under control."
A subtle warning from Payne followed, "Remember, those aren't for personal use."
Brandon's reaction was telling, yet Payne refrained from further commentary, knowing all too well the prevalence of addiction in Hollywood.
As Brandon delved into the prop bag, his demeanor shifted dramatically. Eyes reddened, hands trembled, and his senses seemed overwhelmed.
Snatching up a packet, Brandon's furtive glances betrayed his inner turmoil, acutely aware of the taboo surrounding on-set incidents.
An urgent call from outside broke the tension, prompting Brandon to hastily return to his duties, offering a flimsy excuse for his disheveled state.
As he deposited the contents into the designated box on the table, the assistant director eyed him curiously, prompting Brandon to deflect with a simple explanation of rhinitis.
Exiting the set, Brandon's confusion lingered, his discomfort akin to a persistent itch he couldn't quite scratch.
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