Date: June 1995
Location: Private Screening Room, Beverly Hills – tucked below a luxury estate in Trousdale, rumored to be one of Kaine's "silent bunkers."
Actress: Jodie Foster
Alexander's Status:
Finalizing deal to pull Universal IP out from under oldguard execs
Targeting Cartoon Network buyout in the fall
Quietly vetting directors for AEG Prestige, a new prestige label
Actress's Status:
Emotionally and professionally exhausted after directing _Home for the Holidays_
Protective of her image, wary of moguls
Craving meaningful artistic control—but unsure if that's possible in the current system
---
The screen goes black. Silence clings to the walls like smoke. The only sound is the gentle exhale of the projector winding down.
Jodie Foster sits in the middle of the screening room, legs crossed tightly, fingers laced in her lap. She hasn't turned around yet. She knows he's behind her. Watching.
"You produced that under 'Jane Elliott'?"
Alexander's voice cuts clean through the dark, low and crisp, like a scalpel across silk.
She finally turns, rising slowly, arms still crossed. "Is this where you tell me it's too small, too quiet, too... feminine?"
Alexander steps into the recessed light by the bar. White hair slicked back. Green eyes glinting. He wears a dark gray doublebreasted suit, no tie. Casual, but precisioncut.
"No," he says. "It's where I tell you I want to fund three more just like it. And distribute them globally."
He pours her a glass of bourbon before she even nods. Neat. Of course.
Jodie doesn't move to take the glass yet. She's wary. Everyone in Hollywood wants something—but this man feels like he _already has_ it.
"You don't strike me as the kind of guy who watches movies without explosions."
He chuckles. It's dry. Amused. "That's why I built an empire. So I could afford the quiet ones."
That lands.
Jodie walks toward him, finally accepting the glass. Their fingers don't touch, but the energy says they did.
"Who told you about Jane Elliott?" she asks, sipping.
"Scorsese. And the second unit DP. I have a tendency to find things before they surface."
He leans back against the bar, posture immaculate but relaxed. "I like people who work in shadows. Especially when they shine in them."
She tilts her head, studying him. "That's a very pretty line."
"I only use them when they're true."
A beat passes.
The silence isn't awkward. It's charged.
"Tell me," she says, setting the drink down, "what do you really want from me?"
He smiles, just a sliver.
"Direction," he says simply. "Not just behind the camera. I'm building something big. A new label—AEG Prestige. No capes. No CGI. Just vision. Stories that win Oscars and leave bruises."
She raises an eyebrow. "And you want a bruised woman to kick it off?"
"I want a woman who never lost her fight," he says.
That quiets her.
For a moment, she sees it. A studio without gatekeepers. A label where she can make the films _she_ wants. Where her instincts matter.
"You scare me, Kaine."
He steps closer. Not aggressive—just present. "Everyone's scared of the future. I just happen to be from it."
She exhales a laugh despite herself. "You talk like a Bond villain."
He grins. "I own half the rights now. I might as well practice."
Jodie takes another sip. "And if I say no?"
"I'll fund someone else. But I'd prefer it to be you."
Another beat. Her eyes linger on his—intense, unreadable. Then she glances back at the projector.
"Can I show you something else? A rougher piece. Just rushes, but I think it matters."
Alexander nods. "Only if we watch it upstairs."
She smirks. "Why upstairs?"
"Better couch. Better wine. Better company."
And there it is—the flicker of warmth behind her armor.
She finishes the bourbon in one pull. Sets the glass down. "Then lead the way, Bond villain."
They disappear up the private staircase, her hand brushing his arm—not needing to be held, just… acknowledged.
The upstairs lounge is dimly lit, the air thick with anticipation. Alexander leads her to a plush couch, the kind that swallows you whole. He pours them each a glass of wine, a deep red that catches the light.
"To new beginnings," he says, raising his glass, his voice a low, seductive purr.
She clinks hers against it, a soft smile playing on her lips. "To taking control," she replies, her eyes never leaving his. "I'm tired of others dictating my path. I want to be the one calling the shots."
He takes a sip, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "And what shots do you want to call first?" he asks, leaning in, his elbow resting on the back of the couch, his body language casual yet intense.
She sets her glass down on the coffee table, the clink of glass on wood cutting through the thick air. "I want to direct something that matters. Something that leaves an impact. No more safe choices, Alexander. I want to take risks."
He mirrors her, setting his own glass down, his eyes never leaving hers. "And what risks are you willing to take?" he asks, his voice a low rumble, a challenge in his eyes.
She leans in, her voice a whisper. "All of them. With the right partner."
He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "And who might that partner be?" he asks, his thumb tracing her jawline.
She turns her head, kissing his palm, her eyes never leaving his. "Someone who understands me. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just what I can do for them."
He leans in, his forehead resting against hers, his voice a soft murmur. "I see you, Jodie. All of you. The strength, the vulnerability, the passion. You're incredible."
She pulls back, a soft smile on her lips. "Show me," she whispers.
He doesn't need to be told twice. His lips meet hers, firm and demanding. She responds in kind, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, becoming a dance of tongues and teeth, a battle for dominance that neither is willing to lose.
He breaks away, his breath ragged. "Tell me what you want, Jodie. I want to hear you say it," he says, his voice hoarse with need.
She looks him in the eye, her voice steady and sure. "I want you to take control. Show me what you're made of, Alexander. Don't hold back."
A growl escapes his throat, and he's on her in an instant, his body pressing hers into the couch. His hands roam, exploring every curve, every line. She arches into him, her body begging for more.
He trails kisses down her neck, his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs circling her hardening nipples through the thin fabric of her dress. She moans, her head falling back, giving him better access. He takes advantage, his mouth moving lower, pushing the fabric aside to expose her cleavage.
He takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping, while his hand slips under her dress, pushing her thigh high to expose her panties. She grinds against his hand, already soaked and ready for him.
He pulls back, a wicked smile on his lips as he looks at her flushed face and heaving chest. "You're so fucking responsive, Jodie. It's intoxicating," he murmurs, his hand still between her legs, rubbing her through her wet panties.
She bucks against him, seeking more friction. He chuckles, a low, sexy sound. "Tell me what you want, Jodie. Be specific," he commands, his fingers hooking into her panties, pulling them aside to expose her glistening folds.
She looks at him, her eyes glazed with desire. "I want your fingers inside me, Alexander. I want you to fuck me with your hand while I suck your cock," she says, her voice breathless but confident.
A groan escapes him at her words. He stands up, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. His cock springs free, hard and ready.
He kicks off his pants and boxers, standing naked and proud before her. She licks her lips, her eyes fixed on his length, already imagining the taste of him.
He sits back down on the couch, pulling her onto his lap so she's straddling him, her back to his chest. He enters her from behind, his cock sliding into her wet pussy with ease.
She moans, her head falling back onto his shoulder as he begins to move, his hips thrusting up into her, his hands gripping her hips, setting a punishing pace.
She reaches back, her hands gripping his thighs for leverage as she rides him, meeting his thrusts with her own.
He leans forward, his chest pressing against her back, his mouth at her ear. "That's it, Jodie. Fuck me back. Show me how much you want it," he growls, his teeth nipping at her earlobe.
She turns her head, capturing his lips in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, her tongue invading his mouth, tasting him, devouring him.
He groans, his hands moving from her hips to her breasts, squeezing and kneading, his fingers pinching her nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her clit.
He breaks the kiss, his breath ragged. "I want to feel your mouth on me, Jodie. I want to watch you take my cock while I finger you," he says, his voice hoarse with need.
She smiles, a slow, sexy smile, and turns around, her back to the couch, her legs spread wide, giving him an unobstructed view of her glistening pussy.
She takes his cock in her hand, stroking it slowly, her eyes never leaving his. She leans down, her tongue flicking out, licking the pre-cum from the tip. He groans, his head falling back, his eyes closing in pleasure.
She takes him into her mouth, her head bobbing up and down, her hand working in tandem, her other hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently in her palm.
He moans, his hips bucking up, fucking her mouth. She takes him deeper, relaxing her throat, taking him to the back of her throat, her nose touching his pubic bone. He groans, his hands tangling in her hair, holding her there for a moment before letting her pull back, gasping for air
She smiles up at him, her eyes watering, and goes back down, her head bobbing faster, her hand working his shaft in time with her mouth.
He looks down at her, his eyes dark with desire, his chest heaving. "Fuck, Jodie. Your mouth feels so fucking good," he growls, his hips bucking up to meet her.
He pulls her up by her hair, his voice a low growl. "As much as I love your mouth, I need to fuck you proper, Jodie. I need to feel that tight pussy milking my cock."
He stands up, his cock glistening with her saliva, and pulls her to her feet. He spins her around, bending her over the arm of the couch, her ass presented to him, her back arched, her hair falling over her face. He takes a moment to admire the view, his cock throbbing with anticipation.
"You're a fucking vision, Jodie. So fucking sexy," he murmurs, his hands squeezing her ass cheeks, spreading them wide, exposing her glistening pussy and tight little asshole. He leans down, his tongue running from her clit to her ass, tasting her, devouring her. She moans, pushing back against his face, her body shuddering with pleasure.
He stands up, his cock pressing against her entrance, teasing her. "Is this what you want, Jodie? You want me to fuck you like this?" he asks, his voice a low rumble, his hands gripping her hips, his cock pressing into her, just an inch, then pulling back out, teasing her.
"Yes, Alexander. Please. Fuck me," she begs, her voice breathless, her body trembling with need.
He obliges, slamming into her, his cock filling her, stretching her, his balls slapping against her clit. He sets a punishing pace, his hips slapping against her ass, his cock pounding into her, his hands gripping her hips so tight, it's bordering on pain. But she loves it. She pushes back against him, meeting his thrusts, her body taking everything he's giving and begging for more.
"Harder, Alexander. Fuck me harder," she screams, her body slamming back against his, her hands gripping the couch cushion, her knuckles white.
He growls, his hands moving to her shoulders, holding her in place as he fucks her like an animal, his cock slamming into her, his balls tightening, his orgasm building. "You feel so fucking good, Jodie. Your pussy is so fucking tight," he grunts, his teeth gritted, his body coated in sweat, his muscles straining.
He reaches around, his hand finding her clit, his fingers rubbing it in tight circles, matching the pace of his thrusts. She screams, her body convulsing, her orgasm ripping through her, her pussy clenching his cock, milking it, drawing his own orgasm from him.
He roars, his cock pulsing, his hot seed spilling into her, filling her, his body shaking with the force of his release. He collapses on top of her, his body covering hers, his cock still embedded in her pussy, their bodies slick with sweat, their breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Fuck, Jodie. That was... fuck," he murmurs, his lips pressing soft kisses to her shoulder, her neck, her back.
She smiles, her body sated, her mind blissed out, her heart full. "Yes, it was," she agrees, her voice soft, her eyes closed, a small smile playing on her lips.