Chapter 164: Chapter 164 Assassination Of The Godfather
March 13. The annual Academy Awards were held.
It was even more grand than the Golden Globes two months earlier, the hall was packed with countless fans and reporters. Every time a star appeared, the crowd erupted in cheers.
The actresses, dressed in stunning outfits, were the most beautiful scenery of the night.
"Wow, it's Ingrid Bergman, my holy goddess." As Ingrid Bergman stepped out of the car, the crowd roared.
"It's Vivien Leigh, Scarlett, Scarlett, we love you!"
Vivien Leigh smiled and waved to the fans.
"Wow, it's Rita Hayworth, my goddess of sensuality."
When it was Hardy's turn to enter, he stepped out first, performing a gentlemanly gesture to help Ava Gardner out of the car.
It wasn't over yet. Then another person stepped out, Elizabeth Taylor, who wore a beautiful princess dress today.
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Then came the third person, Hedy Lamarr, whose elegant attire still exuded charm.
Hardy walked the red carpet with three women.
As they walked, the crowd cheered for Ava Gardner, calling out her name. This year, Ava was undoubtedly one of the brightest stars, with both a successful movie and song. "Scarborough Fair" had become a classic, making her a strong contender for Best Original Song.
Hedy Lamarr also had a following, especially since her appearance in the first issue of Playboy brought her back into the public eye. Though she was over thirty, she remained a sensual icon for many.
In comparison, future Hollywood queen Elizabeth Taylor seemed less prominent. As a child star without recent notable works, she was almost forgotten.
Inside the hall, Taylor tugged at Hardy's sleeve and whispered, "Mr. Hardy, one day, I want everyone to cheer my name."
Hardy smiled and whispered back, "I believe you can, and I'll help you."
Taylor's slight disappointment vanished with Hardy's words, and she returned to being a joyful Elizabeth.
Thanks to Hardy, they had front row seats, a privilege not afforded to many actors.
The awards ceremony began.
This time, "The Wild Bunch" received seven nominations, including Best Actor, Best Picture, Best Screenplay, Best Original Song, Best Director, Best Cinematography, and Best Film Editing.
Unfortunately, Eastwood and Nolan both missed out on Best Actor and Best Director, but they were thrilled to have received Oscar nominations, which was a significant acknowledgment for them.
Best Picture went to "The Golden Age."
Best Cinematography and Best Film Editing also went to "The Golden Age."
However, "The Wild Bunch" did not go empty handed, winning Best Screenplay and Best Original Song.
Hardy went on stage to accept the award, receiving a warm round of applause. HD Films had become one of Hollywood's leading companies, and Hardy, who controlled many industries, had achieved all this in just two years, making him a legendary figure in Hollywood.
Next, Ava Gardner went on stage to accept her award.
Holding the Oscar, Ava was emotional. "The person I need to thank the most is Mr. Hardy. He discovered me and nurtured me. Without him, I wouldn't be standing here."
...
After the awards ceremony, there was a grand party.
With hundreds of stars attending, it was a lavish affair. Hardy met many stars he'd never encountered before, and many approached him, hoping to connect with the rising Hollywood giant.
On the way back, Hardy was slightly tipsy.
After dropping off Taylor and Hedy Lamarr, Hardy and Ava returned home, where she tenderly helped him change into his pajamas.
Before bed, the two Oscars were on the nightstand. Ava looked at the statuettes and smiled dreamily, her biggest life goal fulfilled.
In the morning,
Ava, in a slip dress, was making breakfast when the phone on the bedside table rang. Hardy groggily picked it up.
"This is Hardy."
"Hardy, it's Michael. I need your help." Michael Corleone's low voice came from the other end.
Hardy was instantly awake.
"Michael, what happened?"
"Yesterday, my father was assassinated. Two killers shot him over ten times. He took five bullets and, fortunately, survived, but is still unconscious. Last night, I went to the hospital and found someone still trying to harm him. I have no one I can trust. Can you help me, Hardy?"
Hardy was shocked. The Godfather was attacked. Could it be the Godfather story line unfolding?
"Michael, don't worry. I promise to be in New York tonight. Protect Mr. Corleone, and we'll discuss the rest when I arrive." Hardy assured.
"Thank you, Hardy."
"No need to thank me. We're best friends!"
After hanging up the phone, Hardy immediately called Andy, "Andy, contact the airline and charter two planes as quickly as possible. I need to take some people to New York."
"Got it."
He then called Lancer, "Lancer, I need the intelligence team, sniper team, and action team from the security company, and bring tools and weapons."
"Hardy, has something big happened?" Lancer asked.
"The major families of the New York underworld are in turmoil. I need to go to New York to protect some people, and maybe kill others. Have everyone wear the No. 3 outfit," Hardy said.
"I understand. I'll have everything ready in half an hour," Lancer responded.
Hardy hung up the phone and changed clothes. He walked to the dining room where Ava smiled at him, "Breakfast will be ready soon."
Hardy kissed her, "I have to go out right now, so I can't have breakfast."
Ava was a bit surprised, "So urgent that you can't even have breakfast?"
"Yes, it's very urgent."
Ava hugged Hardy, a bit regretfully, "I wanted to spend a day or two with you, but since you're leaving, I'll go back to the set. I might not see you for a few months."
His subordinates acted quickly. They found two planes, both passenger planes. When Hardy arrived at the airport, the special operations team from the security company was already there. These were mostly the people Hardy had originally recruited.
The team leaders were all Hardy's trusted subordinates.
Henry from the intelligence team, Richard from the sniper team, and Matthew, Neil, Leo, and Clay from the action team—all old brothers, along with their subordinates, totaling over 70 people, filled two planes.
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