The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 169: The Business Strategy Plan of a Heiress]

As May rolled in, Hawke Osment issued the order to release the video edited by the Savior, which quickly appeared on Twitter's news section. The newly promoted Operations Director, Miss Caroline Jones, immediately placed it at the top of the headlines, marking it with a red tag.

Hawke was a person of taste, and knowing that Twitter was a formal social media platform, the video contained pixelation over the key areas of the male and female leads. However, this did not dampen the enthusiasm of the online LSPs (lewd social peeps or Stans), as even with the censorship, it was still easy to decipher what the two leads were doing.

Its clarity and explosive content far surpassed that of Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Within an hour of the news video going live, it was shared wildly across Twitter, with many users reposting it in their own groups.

"Billionaire heiress video, that's insane."

"The rich really know how to have fun."

"Paris Hilton is so bold."

"Sure enough, gossip media is too conservative -- Paris Hilton is crazier than even the most risque news."

...

In the morning, A Night in Paris was only circulating crazily on Twitter. By afternoon, it was already a hot topic across the internet. Whenever celebrity scandals or such videos surfaced, the excitement from the LSPs could practically dry up the Pacific Ocean.

Paris wasn't just a socialite; she was the daughter of a billionaire family, and she was not hard on the eyes -- many media outlets referred to her as the real-life Barbie. The general public often harbored resentment towards the wealthy. Paris Hilton was one of those fortunate individuals, born into a world that the other 99.9% could only strive for but might never even catch a glimpse of.

With such a wealthy, beautiful woman standing at the top of society involved in a scandal, the curiosity and excitement from the onlookers were understandable. No matter how rich she was, they relished watching her messy situations unfold. A Night in Paris would become a memorable highlight for the LSPs of an era.

The influx of users far surpassed Hawke's expectations. He thought it would at most match the buzz of Mr. and Mrs. Smith's Red Table Talk, but for the first time since its launch, Twitter had gone down. The internet buzz didn't just stop in the U.S.; it spread to Canada, the UK, and even some parts of mainland Europe, all eager and ready to consume the juicy gossip.

Much like Hollywood movies, whatever became a hit in America often received a strong response in Canada and Europe. Although the service returned to normal within three minutes, it certainly caught Hawke's attention.

He soon discovered the reason: the blonde beauty and her super-rich heiress status meant that her scandalous video was far more enticing than anything two middle-aged people could muster.

Celebrity gossip held a deadly allure for the masses, but even the LSPs would make discerning choices. If Oprah or Whoopi Goldberg were to be involved in a similar video, many might be curious at first, but actually watching closely would be too difficult.

That would be a nightmare scenario. However, A Night in Paris was set to become a cherished memory for a generation. The pixelated video left people longing for more, and hot tweets began pouring in.

"Release the unedited video!"

"We don't want it pixelated!"

"Protest Twitter, the video is censored!"

"If Twitter doesn't release the unedited video, I'm going to protest outside!"

Countless tweets like these were fervently shared. Hawke saw them all.

He immediately called Edward. "Find a group of people to protest at the company entrance -- let it last a few days."

The Savior wasn't new to organizing such events. He had some experience and asked, "Should I also call the media to make some money on news tips?"

Hawke waved him off. "You handle it."

Edward hurried off to contact people; Los Angeles had a wealth of professionals in this line of work, and he had worked with them before during scandals like the selfie debacle.

...

The next morning, over a hundred people appeared at Twitter's office to protest. With Venice Beach's parking lot right across the street, they had plenty of space to make their voices heard.

One by one, they raised posters of Paris Hilton, waving signs reading -- release the unedited video, no pixelation!

Edward stood by the office window, rummaging through his contact book, about to make a call. Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind and snatched it away.

Frank took the contact book, sat down in Edward's chair, grabbed his phone, and began making calls to various media outlets. Then, he hurried downstairs to claim Edward's news tip money.

Edward followed him down, furious. "That's my money!"

"You're a millionaire now!" Frank replied earnestly. "Meanwhile, I'm a broke guy without enough to eat."

Edward stared at him in disbelief. "I always sense you have a scheme in mind."

Frank clapped him on the shoulder. "A guy like you, with your head stuck in the sand, focuses too much on immediate gains. I'm helping you break conventional thinking, so you can see further and align better with your current status."

Edward frowned. "What current status?"

"A shareholder of Twitter," Frank replied. "A future billionaire."

...

Not long after he made the calls, seven or eight media outlets gradually tshowetd up. Although the pay for news tips was limited, getting $20 cash from each was enough for Frank to whistle happily back to his trailer.

...

Meanwhile, in the office above, Hawke stood at the window, watching the crowd of protestors outside. Besides the ones he had paid to come, some LSPs had joined in voluntarily.

They could tolerate not having the full video, but they couldn't stand the pixelation!

A knock on the door broke Hawke's thoughts as Caroline entered. "Boss, the number of new users who registered yesterday increased by 720,000 compared to the day before."

Hawke nodded, silent.

Caroline looked at her boss's silhouette, finding him tall and commanding, like a lion among sheep... No, more like a wolf king.

She continued, "With this wave of hype, we'll surely surpass twenty million users."

Hawke turned around to ask, "Did you receive any hot news?"

Caroline felt a twinge of guilt. "Just ordinary gossip, nothing that's gone viral yet."

"You've worked as Steve's PR manager -- reach out to him," Hawke declared, seeking to use every available resource. "Have Steve regularly update about his happy life with his black son."

Caroline replied, "I've contacted him; Steve assured me he'd provide weekly updates on his son's growth."

She glanced at Hawke. "Steve is somewhat afraid of you."

Hawke chuckled, shaking his head. "It's not fear; we just know too many of his secrets, and he can't do a thing about it."

Caroline understood this as well. If Hawke decided to take action against Steve, the saintly image he had cultivated for himself would inevitably collapse.

...

In Beverly Hills, at the Hilton Hotel, in the presidential suite at the top floor, Paris Hilton sat at her computer, registering a Twitter account. After logging in, she quickly opened the trending news section and saw the video featuring her and her ex-boyfriend Rick Salomon.

Beside her, her assistant Kim Kardashian cast a glance at Paris, hesitant to speak much.

Surprisingly, Paris wasn't too angry; she had been quite wild in recent years, earning her the nickname "Drama Queen Princess."

The videos were undeniably inappropriate but they didn't reveal any critical parts. Kim had become accustomed to Paris's reckless lifestyle, especially her antics when she drank heavily -- there was hardly a wild act she hadn't pulled, like relieving herself in the car after a long night.

In Kim's eyes, a persona like Paris could easily keep eight paparazzi companies afloat.

Of course, Paris was also displeased; she'd already yelled at Rick Salomon on the phone that morning.

"Where's the PR manager I hired?" she asked Kim.

"I'll make a call," Kim responded, pulling out her phone to reach their PR manager.

Paris sat expressionless; in light of these events, her parents had only called to help her find a capable PR manager to manage the negative impact and help plan her future, that was it.

In recent years, her wild behavior had left the Hilton family with no delusions about her.

...

Before long, a fashionable middle-aged woman entered the suite, escorted by the butler.

It was Rooney Chasen, the director from BWR PR, who greeted Paris and sat across from her.

Paris immediately asked, "Do you understand my situation?"

Rooney replied, "I researched it in detail before coming; it's not too bad."

"What are you planning to do?" Paris asked, her tone chilly.

"Before deciding how to handle this, let me outline the background of the news outlet. You should have a basic understanding." Rooney checked Twitter and found a string of familiar names, making her cautious. "The CEO of Twitter is Hawke Osment, who is also the founder of West Coast Media Entertainment Studio."

Paris shook her head. "Never heard of him."

Rooney brushed off her comment, emphasizing, "This person is quite formidable; he knows how to destroy reputations and psychological states."

She remembered the deceased Wagenen and Redford, feeling alarmed. "His methods aren't superficial; he attacks from the least expected angles to deliver devastating blows..."

"You forgot one thing -- my last name is Hilton!" Paris asserted. "Just get to your point."

Rooney nodded slightly. "It's best to resolve this with money; buy back the video rights. The person who released the video clearly left some room, with key parts pixelated."

Paris inquired, "Can't we just sue Twitter?"

"It's better not to go that route. On one hand, Twitter hasn't used your video for direct profit, and you're a public figure; they've preserved your privacy as much as they could." This situation wasn't difficult to resolve, and Rooney didn't want to clash head-on with Hawke Osment over mere money.

She continued, "We're currently in a passive position. If we anger Twitter, they might directly leak the unedited video, and the situation won't be what it is now."

Paris thought it over and looked at Kim, who gave her a knowing glance. Then Paris addressed Rooney. "I'll consider it; you can go to another room for now."

Rooney gathered her things and left for another room.

...

Kim closed the door and said to Paris, "I think this is an opportunity, Paris. You could become even more famous and turn into a real superstar."

Paris furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

Kim reminded her, "Remember when we watched Josh Hartnett and Allison Faith's selfie scandal? After their video dropped, they blew up! Haven't you always wanted to be a big star? What Twitter's doing for you is basically free advertising. Once the videos come out on tape and DVD, you'll be even more famous than Josh Hartnett or Allison Faith!"

She added, "Since this news is already out, you've basically been seen -- the pixelation doesn't make a difference! Why not leverage this to your maximum benefit, buy back the video, and sell it in the San Fernando Valley?"

"Enough!" Paris snapped, not losing her sanity just yet. She pointed at the door. "Go get Rooney back in here."

...

When Rooney returned, she talked with Paris for a good half-hour, focusing heavily on Hawke. They discussed the selfie incident and Steve, among other topics.

Then, Rooney called Hawke, arranging for a face-to-face meeting.

...

An hour later, Hawke entered Twitter's reception room to meet Rooney, Paris, and Kim.

Paris stood out in a dazzling short skirt, literally eye-catching, with numerous rhinestones adorning it.

Rooney shook Hawke's hand and said, "Nice to see you again. This time I represent Paris and would like to discuss possible collaboration."

Hawke glanced at Paris Hilton and asked, "About the video?"

Paris replied straightforwardly, "I want to buy the video back. Name your price."

Rooney interjected, "Paris intends to invite you to help with strategic planning for her career."

"I'll sell you the video rights for $5 million," Hawke stated boldly. "As for the business strategy planning, that comes at a separate fee from my personal studio."

Paris, displaying the confidence of a wealthy heiress, pressed, "Just give me a number."

Hawke replied, "$1.5 million; I'll only handle the planning. All costs for implementation will be your responsibility."

He looked at Paris. "I'd like to know your precise goals."

Paris wasn't as mindless as she occasionally appeared; she stated bluntly, "I want to be a star. I want to have my own business."

*****

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