In Beverly Hills, residential properties generally fell into two categories.
The first type consisted of what future generations might casually refer to as townhouses—or, in Japanese terms, ikkodate (single-family homes).
These houses were built in neat, uniform rows lining both sides of the street.
While by no means cheap, their price tags completely paled in comparison to the massive, sprawling estates situated higher up in the hills.
Most of the residents living down here were corporate executives or small business owners.
They chose to buy property in this neighborhood primarily for its renowned safety.
In a city like this, living in such an exclusive community was the ultimate guarantee of personal security.
Los Angeles in 1991 was notoriously dangerous—not that the future would be much better, of course.
The Lincoln cruised smoothly along the pristine asphalt.
As Kevin and Jolie took in the lush scenery on either side, a refreshing sense of relaxation washed over them.
This was a type of leisure only the wealthy could truly experience.
Ordinary people, exhausted by the daily grind, simply didn’t have the time or energy to appreciate the view.
After twenty minutes of driving, the road began to incline.
Five minutes later, they arrived at the estate.
Before they could even approach the property, they were stopped at a massive iron gate by a security checkpoint.
The guard only granted them entry after Litt presented his specialized real estate credentials.
Clearly, this was the exclusive security perimeter for the ultra-high-end hillside mansions.
Anyone without proper clearance wouldn’t even be allowed within walking distance.
The estate was surrounded by a dense, immaculately trimmed hedge that stood nearly ten feet tall, guaranteeing absolute privacy from the outside world.
Following the hedge-lined driveway for about forty feet, they turned a corner, and the villa’s main entrance finally came into view.
Litt pulled out a heavy ring of keys, found the correct one, and unlocked the outer courtyard doors, gesturing for Kevin and Jolie to step inside.
The moment they entered, a pristine outdoor swimming pool came into view, prompting a delighted cheer from Jolie.
Owning a home with a private pool was the ultimate American dream, especially in a prime location like this.
After walking around the pool, Jolie followed the two men toward the main house.
The exterior walls were painted a warm, inviting off-white.
The entire wall facing the courtyard was made of massive, floor-to-ceiling glass panels, seamlessly blending the spacious living room with the outdoor patio.
Most of the high-end furniture was currently draped in white dust covers.
Overall, Kevin was extremely satisfied.
The only minor drawback was that an estate of this magnitude would require a live-in cleaning staff; otherwise, the sheer size of the place would gather dust faster than anyone could manage.
Besides, navigating Beverly Hills without a vehicle was impossible—he was going to have to buy a car anyway.
That thought immediately led him to another realization: he also needed to hire a professional bodyguard who could double as his personal driver.
For a man with his newly acquired wealth, robust personal security was an absolute necessity.
In this era, there was always the underlying risk of being targeted by kidnappers or extortionists.
But that was a problem for another day.
Right now, his priority was locking down this house.
Cutting off Litt’s enthusiastic sales pitch, Kevin said, “Alright, I’ll take it.
Contact the owner immediately and draw up the paperwork.
I want to move in as soon as possible.”
Litt snapped his mouth shut.
Breaking into a massive grin, the agent practically sprinted for the phone to call the seller.
Two days later, all the paperwork was finalized.
Kevin wired nearly seven million dollars to close the deal, officially making the Beverly Hills estate his own.
The actual purchasing process was incredibly smooth—a stark reminder that in America, having enough cash instantly eliminated any bureaucratic hurdles.
Money bought the best professionals, and Litt handled every single detail, leaving Kevin with nothing to do but show up with his luggage.
After a quick shopping trip to stock up on high-end toiletries and fresh bedding, Kevin and Jolie officially moved into the mansion.
After spending a few wildly uninhibited days breaking in the house with Jolie, Kevin finally sat down to tackle his main objective: drafting the project proposal for Get Out.
Time flew by, and soon it was mid-November.
Saw, after a massive initial peak and a steady, gradual decline, had finally reached the end of its theatrical run.
Its cumulative North American box office haul had reached a staggering $86.52 million.
At the time, it was second only to The Naked Gun 2½: The Smell of Fear, which had pulled in over $100 million domestically.
According to the internal projections of the major Hollywood studios, Saw had securely locked in the 11th spot on the 1991 North American box office rankings, just barely missing the top ten.
Despite this, none of the major studios dared to look down on the film.
It was worth noting that The Naked Gun 2½ was a highly anticipated sequel to a massive blockbuster, backed by a built-in fanbase and a hefty $23 million production budget. Read the latest chapters at NovelPing.
Once marketing and distribution costs were factored in, that comedy didn’t actually net a massive profit from its theatrical run alone.
It would have to rely heavily on subsequent home video sales, television licensing, and other ancillary copyright revenues to truly cash in.
Saw, on the other hand, was an indie horror flick shot on a microscopic budget of just $1.3 million.
Given its explosive North American performance, conservative estimates projected it would easily pull in at least another $80 million from the overseas box office.
That pushed its global box office projection to a staggering $160 million.
After deducting the theaters’ cut and distribution costs, New Line Cinema was poised to walk away with a net profit of at least $60 to $70 million.
And that didn’t even account for the massive wave of subsequent home video revenue, nor the long-term franchise value of the newly minted Saw IP.
New Line Cinema hadn’t just bought a movie; they had acquired an absolute gold mine.
Riding this massive wave of momentum, New Line Cinema’s stock price surged, sending CEO Robert Shaye’s personal net worth skyrocketing right alongside it.
As the North American theatrical run wrapped up, the “Big Five” Hollywood studios all dispatched executives to New Line Cinema to negotiate the overseas distribution rights, desperately clamoring for a piece of the action.
Naturally, Shaye ultimately chose to partner with Warner Bros., the studio with which he maintained the closest industry ties.
…
“Ugh…
finally done,” Kevin muttered, leaning back and stretching his arms as he stared at the completed proposal resting on the living room table.
Drafting the proposal shouldn’t have actually taken this long, but having a stunning, sexy, eager, beautiful woman like Jolie constantly lounging around the house had understandably undermined his focus and efficiency.
Jolie walked inside through the sliding glass doors.
The outdoor pool was equipped with a high-end heating system, allowing her to enjoy a comfortable swim despite the crisp November weather.
As she toweled the water off her skin, she noticed Kevin pushing his chair back and flashed him a sultry smile.
“Is the proposal done?
Did you finish the script, too?”
Kevin nodded.
“And what about the female lead…?” Jolie asked, a rare hint of embarrassment creeping into her voice.
Even though she had long since resolved to do whatever it took to become an A-list star, boldly asking for the role when the opportunity was sitting right in front of her still made her feel slightly bashful.
However, after getting a taste of this ultra-wealthy lifestyle, there was absolutely no way she could ever go back to her old life.
If Kevin decided to toss her aside now, her only option would be to start hunting for another rich benefactor…