Made In Hollywood

After having lunch at a restaurant, Duke opened the back door and waited for Scarlett to get in the car. He then opened the front door, sat in the driver's seat, buckled his seatbelt, and glanced behind him.

"Do you want to go home?" Duke asked.

"I don't want to go back," Scarlett immediately shook her head and leaned over to the driver's seat, blinking her lively eyes. "Are you going to leave me behind again, Duke?"

Duke frowned. "I have to go to Malibu this afternoon."

"Aren't you going to look at a house?" The little girl remembered clearly. "Godmother said I should follow you today. You're alone anyway, so can I come with you?"

"Fine, but don't talk too much, Scar!"

After signaling for Scarlett to sit properly, Duke started the Bentley and slowly drove out of the parking lot. "Time's tight. We need to hurry."

"You're not planning to keep living in North Hollywood?" The little girl poked her head out from the back again. Duke had to slow down and remind her, "Scar, buckle up, or I'll take you home!"

"You're always bullying me!"

She grumbled as she sat back and fastened her seatbelt, then continued asking, "Are you planning to move out of North Hollywood?"

"Hmm…" Duke only nodded slightly.

His current apartment was rented, and ever since "Independence Day" broke $300 million at the North American box office, quite a few paparazzi had started targeting him. Though the North Hollywood community was well-managed, it couldn't keep out the relentless paparazzi. Plus, with his finances improving, it was time to buy a house of his own.

Moreover, property prices were relatively low at the moment. Even from an investment perspective, buying a luxury home was a wise decision.

Driving through the canyon along Highway 1 and into Malibu, Duke soon met up with a real estate agent. Under the agent's guidance, they headed toward the Malibu Beach area.

A few days ago, the agent had sent Duke pictures of several houses, and one of them had caught his eye. He was now heading straight to that one.

After about ten minutes, Duke was standing in front of a mansion with the real estate agent.

"This place is nice, quiet, and beautiful."

Holding onto Duke's sleeve, Scarlett looked out at the nearby ocean with a satisfied expression. "It's big enough too."

Duke glanced at her, and the little girl immediately closed her mouth.

This wasn't just a beach house; it was a seaside estate covering three acres, facing the Pacific Ocean with the Santa Monica Mountains behind it. A private driveway hidden among the trees led to Highway 1, making the location both private and accessible.

The estate occupied an entire cliff, with ample distance from the neighbors on both sides. The unique eye-shaped main house was flanked by two smaller buildings and stood on the edge of the cliff. There was even an elevator and a passage leading down to a private beach below.

Accompanied by the real estate agent, Duke toured the estate's woods, garden, outdoor pool, and tennis court. Overall, he was quite satisfied, especially with the trees that provided both greenery and privacy by shielding the estate from outside view.

"This estate was designed by the famous architect John Lautner," the real estate agent, eager to please, said, knowing Duke was a top-tier client. Seeing Duke's interest, he added more details. "It was built in 1962, and its previous owner was the famous musician Russ Garcia. It's known in Los Angeles as the 'house on stilts.'"

Nodding slightly, Duke gestured for the curious Scarlett to follow him as he walked into the large, eye-shaped mansion.

The agent, named Lynch, followed them in and continued his introduction. "There are a total of 11 bedrooms here, each with its own guest room and bathroom. Along with dining rooms, living rooms, and a grand banquet hall, the house has 53 rooms spread over three floors."

As the agent spoke, Duke walked into the living room, stepping over the spotless hardwood floor and approaching the floor-to-ceiling windows on the ocean-facing side. Through the windows, he could see a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean and the beach below. The entire estate seemed to be wrapped in fresh air and a gentle sea breeze, making it a perfect escape from the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles and a place to enjoy the tranquility of nature.

But aside from the house itself, Duke had other considerations.

The estate was close to the Santa Monica Mountains, and a half-hour drive along Highway 1 would take him to the private yacht harbor in Santa Monica, which was conveniently close—but not too close—to his mother's place.

Moreover, with the internet age on the horizon, privacy for celebrities would soon be even harder to maintain. The estate, perched on a cliff with high walls and tall evergreen trees shielding it on three sides, offered significant seclusion. Unless the paparazzi started using planes, it would be impossible to spy on the estate from outside.

Finally, after taking the elevator down to the private beach, Duke was pleased to find it small but secluded, covering less than half an acre. The northernmost part of the beach was cut off by the cliff, where the previous owner had built a small passage and dock, suitable for mooring a small yacht.

After touring all the main features of the estate, Duke was generally satisfied—except for the price. Even though the dollar was stronger than it would be in the future, the asking price was still a steep $9.5 million.

"Mr. Rosenberg…" the real estate agent politely asked as they walked back to the parking lot, "Are you satisfied with the place?"

"It's alright," Duke replied casually.

Even with a large sum of money coming in soon, the price still felt a bit high to Duke. He wouldn't negotiate himself, though—Nancy Josephson's assistant would handle that. Based on the current market, there was definitely room to bring the price down.

"Do you like it, Duke?" Scarlett asked from the backseat as they drove back. "I think it's great. What do you think?"

"It's fine," Duke answered nonchalantly.

"Hey, I'm seriously asking you!" Scarlett raised her voice, clearly unsatisfied.

"I'm being serious too!"

Despite his words, Duke's tone didn't change at all.

Scarlett puffed out her cheeks in frustration. Realizing Duke was focused on driving and not paying attention to her, she let out a deliberately held breath, folded her arms, and stared at his tall figure in the driver's seat.

"I've figured it out," Scarlett said cheerfully. "You're definitely going to buy that house. Your eyes gave you away. That house…"

She was doing this on purpose. On the way back from Malibu to North Hollywood, Scarlett successfully transformed into a chatterbox, tormenting Duke's ears with the kind of talk he disliked the most.

The result was that as soon as they entered the North Hollywood area, Duke took a detour toward the outskirts of Burbank and, despite Scarlett's protests, dropped her off at her house.

"I'll remember this, Duke!"

The little girl looked genuinely upset as she got out of the car, as if she was about to cry at any moment. "I'll remember how you used your age to bully me when I was little! When I grow up, I'll get even with you, I swear! I swear I'll make you pay!"

The little girl stomped off toward her house, not looking back. But just as she was about to enter, she saw that Duke's familiar Bentley was still parked outside. Her lips curled into a slight smile.

Before she could fully show her delight, though, a loud crashing sound came from the kitchen, like ceramic shattering on the floor. This was followed by the sound of a man and woman arguing, with more objects being thrown in the background.

This scene had played out countless times over the past year. Scarlett stood frozen at the door, looking in that direction. Her smile slowly faded, her eyes filled with confusion and sadness, as if she'd been abandoned.

No one paid attention to her. No one cared about her. Even her brother, who had just opened the door for her, didn't look back as he headed upstairs. Not even a glance of comfort.

The little girl, who usually held her head high in pride, slowly lowered it. Her big eyes gradually filled with tears, though she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

After standing in the house for less than a minute, Scarlett turned and pushed the door open, leaving again. She walked toward the garden gate, her head down, like a little zombie wandering aimlessly.

Duke, who had just started the car, saw Scarlett coming out, her usual playful energy nowhere in sight.

Not knowing exactly what had happened, Duke got out of the car and walked over. The little girl seemed lost in thought and didn't even notice him.

"Scar, what's wrong?"

Hearing the familiar question, Scarlett looked up at Duke as if she had found a target. She bypassed him and headed straight for the Bentley. Duke quickly followed.

Seeing the little girl open the door and buckle her seatbelt without saying a word, Duke got into the driver's seat and asked, "Sweetheart, what happened?"

Scarlett looked at Duke for a moment before speaking softly. "They're fighting again. No one cares about me, and no one pays attention to me."

"Can I come with you, Duke?" She looked at him with hopeful eyes. "Even though you're mean and always bully me, and you get mad at me for no reason, I know you care about me."

The first part of her words almost made Duke lose his temper, but the second part made him sigh,From that phone call, it can be seen that Scarlett Johansson's current family environment is not good. It seems that the relationship between her parents is not good. There is a big problem in the relationship between them.

"Okay, let's go to Santa Monica." Duke started the car. "I'll call you home later."

"Can I stay at my godmother's place tonight?" she asked hopefully.

"As long as you want."

Anyway, he could just throw it to his mother when he got home, and he didn't have to worry about it. If possible, he could just leave her and go back to his apartment in North Hollywood.

.....

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