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Ethan stayed in his office while Judy reported from Israel.
“You met her?”
“I met her, her agent, and enough family to understand why this is not as easy as putting an offer on a desk,” Judy said.
“I found the contact the same day you gave me the assignment.
Flew to Tel Aviv.
Got the meeting.
The girl listened.”
“But?”
“But she is seventeen.
Her parents are not stupid, and they are not impressed by Hollywood magic words.
From their point of view, a strange American studio executive sent another strange American to offer their daughter a movie career.
They want proof.
They want to know who you are.
And they want to know this is not some glossy trap.”
Ethan smiled faintly despite himself.
“Reasonable.”
“Very.
Annoyingly reasonable.
Also, I am not interested in becoming the woman who smuggled a minor across the world because some young studio prince saw a face in a magazine.”
“No one is smuggling anyone.”
“Good.
Then say that loudly when the lawyers are listening.”
Ethan leaned back.
“Where is the resistance coming from?
Gal or her parents?”
“Mostly her parents.
Gal is curious.
Careful, but curious.
The opportunity matters to her.
Her father is the harder wall.”
“Background?”
“Basic sweep only.
European Jewish roots.
Family history through wartime displacement and Israel.
Middle-class, stable.
Not rich enough to ignore opportunity, not desperate enough to swallow anything with an MGM logo on it.
Her grandfather is still alive.
I visited the family home.”
That detail mattered more than Judy probably knew.
A household with memory that old would not be bullied by glamour.
It would measure risk differently.
“Try again,” Ethan said.
“Make the offer cleaner.
No pressure, no theatrical promises.
Training, representation, guardian approval, a development path, and a specific role if she meets the requirements.”
“And the military service issue?”
“Tell them MGM’s lawyers can explore legal options.
Student deferment, overseas study, visa and residency pathways, whatever applies.
No guarantees, no shortcuts, no asking anyone to break Israeli law.”
“That is less dramatic than ‘I can solve it.'”
“It is also less likely to put us in prison.”
Judy laughed. Get faster updates on g.com.
“If they still do not believe it?”
“Come home.
MGM does not depend on one actor.
Especially not one who has not acted yet.”
“Cold.”
“Professional.”
“You are learning the difference too fast.”
“Keep me updated.”
He ended the call and spent the rest of the afternoon buried in production reports, legal memos, and the early architecture of a studio that needed to stop behaving like a wounded animal.
That night, Joshua Hawthorne came home.
Ethan heard him before he saw him: the front door, the thunder of athletic footsteps, Emily’s half-warning laugh from the foyer.
Then Joshua hit him with a bear hug that felt less like affection and more like a defensive lineman testing structural integrity.
“Are you trying to give me a concussion?”
Joshua released him and grinned.
He was bigger than Ethan remembered, all shoulders and loud confidence, with the sun-burned ease of someone who had spent more time on football fields than in conference rooms.
“No weak sons in the Hawthorne family,” Joshua said.
“You bought MGM and did not tell me?
Mom had to explain why my little brother was suddenly in the newspaper.”
“You tried to kill me so you could inherit the studio.”
“Would that work?”
They both laughed, and Emily called them to dinner before the joke grew teeth.
At the table, Joshua lasted almost seven minutes before curiosity won.
“How much did MGM cost?”
Ethan kept eating and lifted three fingers.
“Three hundred million?”
“Use your imagination.”
Joshua stared at him.
“No.
Three billion?”
“Close enough to hurt.”
“Oh my God.”
He pushed back from the table as if the number had physically shoved him.
“Why MGM?
Why not the 49ers?”
Charles put down his glass with the patience of a man who knew where this was going.
Joshua barreled ahead anyway.
“If we owned the team, I would be the owner’s brother.
I could play whatever position I wanted.
I could get Garrick cut tomorrow.
Do you know how long I have wanted that guy gone?”
“Buying a team is not a terrible idea,” Ethan said.
Joshua froze.
“Wait.
Really?”
“Sports franchises are going to become much more valuable.
Football, basketball, media rights, regional networks, merchandising.
The numbers will climb.”
Joshua pointed at him.
“See?
This is why you are the good brother.”
“I did not say now.
MGM has debt, projects, and a reputation problem.
After the studio starts making real money, maybe we discuss a team.
“Executive chair is not the important part.”
“That worries me.”
Joshua leaned closer, all innocent eyes and terrible intent.
“Since MGM belongs to the family now, what if I helped part-time?
Talent scouting.”
Ethan looked at him.
Emily looked at him.
Charles looked at him.
Joshua’s smile weakened under three different forms of family judgment.
“What?
I meet people.
I know athletes.
Dancers.
Cheerleaders.
Some of them actually want entertainment careers.”
“Joshua,” Emily said, her voice going soft in the dangerous way, “if you use your brother’s company to chase women, trade favors, or embarrass this family, I will make sure your coaches hear about it before breakfast.”
“Mom.”
“I am not finished.”
He sat back.
“You are young, famous enough in your own circles, and very convinced that consequences happen to other men.
They do not.
There are health risks, reputation risks, legal risks, and company risks.
Do not bring any of them to Ethan’s door.”
Charles added, “I do not want a woman arriving at this house with a lawyer and a child.
I especially do not want several women arriving with lawyers and children.”
Joshua groaned.
“I suggested scouting, not founding a scandal department.”
“The distinction matters,” Ethan said.
“So here is the rule.
If you know exceptional athletes, dancers, or performers who genuinely want to audition, send their names through proper channels.
No private promises.
No personal trades.
No telling anyone that sleeping with a Hawthorne gets them a role.”
“I would never say it like that.”
“Good.
Do not imply it either.”
Joshua stabbed a piece of food with theatrical misery.
“This family used to be fun.”
Emily smiled sweetly.
“This family used to have less liability.”
Joshua muttered into his plate, but he was smiling again by dessert.
Ethan watched him across the table and filed the conversation away.
Sports ownership was not a joke.
Not really.
Not yet.
But someday, the right team could become more than a trophy.
It could become content, leverage, community, media rights, and a gate into another enormous market.
Joshua had meant it as a complaint.
Ethan heard it as a future acquisition category.
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I hope this chapter drew you further into the story.
Stick around, because there’s still a lot waiting just ahead.