King of Hollywood

Chapter 120: Chapter 120: Playing a Role

“Damn it! This was your ultimate goal, wasn’t it!” Monica exclaimed angrily.

“You guessed right,” Adrian laughed as he turned around, hugged Monica from the side, and Monica grabbed his hand trying hard to push him away. The two of them struggled in the water, accompanied by splashing sounds.

Although Monica seemed to be struggling, she obviously wasn’t using much strength; otherwise, she wouldn’t have let Adrian have his way. Of course, it could also be because the previous swimming had used up her strength, but with her personality, she should have stopped resisting instead of this flirtatious struggling.

Such frolic would eventually lead to something else, especially since Monica wasn’t wearing a swimsuit, and her perfect full figure swayed back and forth. Adrian was no gentleman; naturally, they ended up pressed together.

Of course, another reason was that although they had avoided journalists and rented a private beach, it wasn’t guaranteed that someone wouldn’t bump into them and secretly take photos. Capturing intimate scenes was one thing, but capturing more advanced scenes wouldn’t be good.

Thus although Adrian and Monica were tightly embracing and kissing in the water, Adrian always maintained restraint, which made Monica, somewhat infatuated and disoriented, even more confused.

“Ed,” she gasped half-opening her eyes and clinging to Adrian’s head, “tell me, Ed, are you more interested in me or in my body?”

“Do you want the truth?” Adrian raised his head, smiled lightly, and caressed Monica’s cheek, “Both, equally.”

He paused before continuing to gaze into her eyes and spoke, “I’ve said it long ago, there isn’t a man who wouldn’t want to sleep with you, and I am no exception. But your personality attracts me just as much; at first, I thought you were very strong-willed, always wanting to prove yourself, but then I discovered how passionate and sensitive you are. All of these, they’re mesmerizing…”

Monica, likewise, stared back unblinkingly, and after a long while, she finally lowered her head, clenched her teeth, and sighed, “Damn it, why do I always believe what you say!”

Adrian said nothing but sealed her lips with his. Monica responded passionately in the water while wrapping her legs around his waist and began to move her hips.

“No no no, my dear, not now,” Adrian slightly pushed her away.

“What, suddenly getting cold feet?” Monica taunted, her curves dripping with water.

“Don’t forget, I promised you,” Adrian said with a smile as he gently scraped her alluring lips, “I always keep my promises; that’s my style.”

Then looking at the still bright sky and the rolling waves around, he didn’t wait for an answer and scooped her up, carrying her through the water toward the beach, “Okay, that’s enough surfing for today. Once we’ve changed, we can head to Fisher Avenue and stroll until evening. Didn’t you say the restaurants in Cannes are mostly too strong flavored, with too much seasoning in their dishes? There’s a light French restaurant there; we could dine there before heading back.”

As Monica was lifted up, she struggled a bit, but eventually, she just sighed and rested her head on Adrian’s shoulder, letting him carry her ashore.

“By the way,” Adrian then said with a sly smile, “Don’t think I’ll let you off tonight; I can’t wait to taste what’s there.”

Monica, who had always been uninhibited with Adrian and had explored countless things with him, tightened up upon hearing this, her expression becoming a bit lost. Feeling her reaction, Adrian couldn’t help but laugh heartily.

As evening fell and street lamps lit up one by one, Cannes under the not-yet-dark blue sky seemed especially warm. Dressed in casual wear and spruced up a bit, Adrian and Monica walked side by side on the streets, slowly moving forward while chatting. Due to the film festival, there were many pedestrians on the streets, mostly tourists; film stars and directors were mostly gathered on Seaside Avenue and rarely came this way.

This was precisely why Adrian chose to take Monica shopping here, and there were also many Middle Ages-style buildings around. Of course, there was no need to worry about safety, as Cannes always had good public order, and with the film festival, the government was strict about security, as indicated by the mounted police occasionally passing by.

“Here we are,” Adrian stopped in front of a rather small-looking restaurant that, despite its simple appearance, had an old-world charm that was quite attractive and clearly had a history.

Pushing open the door, they entered, and like all French restaurants, the interior was dimly lit with candles on the chandeliers, creating a very tranquil atmosphere. The waiter quickly came forward and led them to a window-side table for two.

“It seems you’re also here for the first time, right? How sure are you that the taste here will suit us?” Monica asked, raising her eyebrows in a flirtatious manner, having completely calmed down since coming from the beach.

“How can you know without trying? Some things, you have to experience firsthand to understand,” Adrian said, smiling ambiguously.

Monica rolled her eyes in annoyance, about to say something, but then noticed Adrian’s gaze had shifted to the entrance. She followed his look and saw two middle-aged men walking into the restaurant one after another.

“This is the place, Jean. The onion soup here is the best I’ve ever had.” The first person, slightly shorter, had his short hair combed up, standing on his head like a stump, and his thick eyebrows and big eyes gave him a somewhat simple and honest look.

“Come on, last time in Lyon, you also said that was the best escargot you had tasted, but what was the result?” The taller one behind him, wearing round glasses and with thinning hair, had a stubble beard, giving a similarly simple impression. Despite his complaint, it was clear he was mostly joking, which made the pair quite interesting together.

“That just means our tastes differ, it doesn’t say anything about their cooking being bad.” The shorter man shrugged his shoulders and, led by the waiter, sat at another table by the window, right behind Adrian.

“It looks like we could get to know them.” After they had ordered, Adrian whispered to Monica, then smiled, winked, and stood up to approach the two men who were bickering.

“Hello, Luc Besson, it’s a pleasure to meet you here.” Adrian said in French, and after shaking hands with the surprised shorter man, he immediately turned to the tall one, “And you, Jean Reno.”

“You are?” Luc Besson looked at him curiously.

“I’m Adrian Cowell, maybe you’ve heard of my name…” Adrian hadn’t even finished introducing himself when Luc Besson burst out laughing: “I know you, you’re that American kid, what do they call you? The genius director! Indeed, I just saw your ‘Pulp Fiction’ today, it’s really interesting!”

Jean Reno looked at his old friend, a bit helplessly shaking his head, then apologized to Adrian, “Sorry, he’s always like this, gets a bit uncontrollable when he’s excited.”

“It’s okay, I understand, I can be like that sometimes too.” Adrian laughed and waved his hand, then pointed at their table, “If you don’t mind, maybe we could join tables.”

“Of course, no problem, please sit.” Besson gestured invitingly with a smile.

“Thank you, but…” Adrian said, returning to his original seat to take Monica’s arm, “Come join us.”

Monica stood up without saying anything and sat with Adrian at the table with Luc Besson and Jean Reno, then she greeted them with a light smile, “Hello Luc Besson, hello Jean Reno.”

Being European, she knew of their reputation.

“Oh, Monica Bellucci, you are quite beautiful, the dance you did in ‘Pulp Fiction’ was very enticing,” Luc Besson greeted her with a chuckle as he shook her hand.

“Thank you.” Monica appeared modest yet charming.

“Of course, Cowell really has a great handle on both dark humor and violence,” Besson then turned back to Adrian.

“Call me Adrian or Ed, that way, I can call you Luc and Jean too.” Adrian smiled, “Speaking of dark humor, I know a bit about it, but speaking of dark violence, no movie did it better than your ‘Nikita’ last year.”

“I just like to explore different themes, that movie came about quite unexpectedly, and many critics didn’t like it.” Despite saying this, Besson seemed quite proud.

“Critics liking it or not doesn’t matter, what’s important is if the audience likes it. I think the Best Actress Caesar Award and the Best Foreign Language Film Golden Globe nomination speak volumes,” Adrian said, shaking his head.

From there, the conversation opened up, and the two talked about each other’s movies, soon both were surprised because they were quite familiar with each other’s films. As such, they talked even more passionately like old friends reuniting, with Monica and Jean Reno barely chiming in—Monica because she couldn’t get a word in, and Reno because he wasn’t much for talking.

Eventually, Adrian and Besson knew to shift the topic, quickly bringing the conversation to film festivals.

“I think ‘Pulp Fiction’ definitely deserves the Palme d’Or, no one has ever…played with film quite like this!” Besson declared, “You did brilliantly, Ed.”

“Whether it wins the Palme d’Or or not, I prefer engaging with other directors and actors at the festival. Maybe I’ll suddenly get inspired while chatting,” Adrian said earnestly, “For instance, I just had a thought to invite Jean for a role.”

“Me? In a role?” Jean Reno was taken aback.

“Yes, a story about a hitman living in New York.” Adrian smiled slightly, the profound implication clear only to himself. (To be continued, for further information please log on to www.qidian.com. More chapters available, support the author, support genuine reading!)