The Tyrant Billionaire-Chapter 648 The Mafia’s Cuban Investment is Gone

At the same time.

Newspapers warned American citizens to exercise caution when traveling to Cuba, as the nation’s security level had dropped several notches.

Barzini was the first to receive a call from his subordinates about the incident. When he heard the news, he was utterly dumbfounded.

Hundreds of Cuban revolutionaries had stormed the casino, looted everything, and, to his dismay, blown it up before leaving.

"What?! You’re saying they blew up the casino?!"

"Yes, they blew it up."

"It’s not that serious, right?"

Barzini still harbored hope, imagining it might just be minor damage that could be repaired and reopened.

"Oh, Mr. Barzini, the entire casino has been completely destroyed, turned into rubble. It’s all over. After the explosion, a massive fire broke out, and now there’s nothing left but ashes," the casino manager reported.

Screech!

Barzini nearly fainted.

His $100 million investment, his two years of hard work, his dream of a future fortune—All of it was gone.

Those damned revolutionaries! Robbing was bad enough, but why blow up the casino? If they wanted to make a statement, why not blow up the presidential palace instead? He certainly wouldn’t have stopped them.

Barzini put down the phone, his chest heavy with anguish. Even if he had lost his wife, he wouldn’t have been this distraught.

Ring, ring, ring!

The phone on his desk rang again. Barzini reluctantly picked it up, and an anxious voice from the head of a Mafia family came through:

"Barzini, I heard our casino was blown up. Is it true?"

"I just got the report from the manager," Barzini replied.

"Ah, so it’s true. How could this happen? Why did they target our casino? This is a disaster. How will we do business now? Rebuilding will cost a fortune. Even if we can afford it, it’ll take two years to reopen. Our plans are ruined!"

Barzini thought to himself, You invested a fraction of what I did, and I’m the one taking the bigger hit here.

"Alright, I need to gather more details. I’ll hang up now," Barzini said curtly and ended the call.

But no sooner had he hung up than the phone rang again.

This time, it was another Mafia family leader. Barzini gave a perfunctory response and hung up shortly after.

"Damn it! Everyone’s calling me about this. What can I do?"

Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring!

The phone rang incessantly.

Barzini could already guess it was yet another call from one of the family heads. He was agitated and didn’t want to deal with them anymore.

Meanwhile, the Cuban Revolutionary Army wasn’t stopping there. Just days after attacking the casino, they launched an assault on the capital of Santiago, even occupying the government building and taking the mayor hostage.

Santiago, Cuba’s second-largest city, is more than 800 kilometers from Havana, situated at the opposite ends of the island. It’s also one of Cuba’s critical ports.

More importantly, the Cuban Revolutionary Army’s numbers had swelled to over 3,000 within a short period.

This news shocked many.

Several American newspapers reported on it, and many people began to remember the names of the Cuban Revolutionary Army and Castro.

Santiago, located within the Caribbean Sea, is hailed as the "Capital of the Caribbean" due to its proximity to the Cayman Islands.

That night, a cargo ship arrived at the port.

It unloaded more weapons and ammunition, and in exchange, a box of money was taken aboard.

The transaction was conducted on the spot, fair and square. With these weapons, the Cuban Revolutionary Army could recruit more people and stand up to the government forces.

From this point forward, Cuba would never return to its former peace. America’s backyard was gone.

There would no longer be Americans flocking to Cuba as tourists.

As for Barzini’s casino, it would never rise again. Even if he managed to rebuild it, who would dare visit a war-torn Cuba?

...

Hollywood

HD Studios’ Private Screening Room

Today, several industry heavyweights were in attendance, including Hardy. It was the screening day for Monroe’s new film,The Seven Year Itch.

Monroe had become a major sensation.

Naturally, her new film garnered immense anticipation.

Sitting beside Hardy, Monroe appeared slightly tense. Hardy placed a calming hand on her thigh, gently soothing her nerves.

"This is my first time watching the finished film. I’m not sure how it’ll turn out," Monroe admitted.

"Have confidence in yourself, and have confidence in me too," Hardy replied with a reassuring smile.

As the film began, the room fell silent.

The movie was a comedy, focusing on a middle-aged man’s daydreams about his alluring new tenant on the second floor.

The film was peppered with humorous moments.

One particularly iconic scene showed Monroe standing over a subway grate as a train passed, the gust of wind lifting her white dress. This moment not only became one of Hollywood’s most classic images but also solidified Monroe as a cultural icon.

When the film ended, the room erupted in applause.

"Bravo!"

The executives stood up, smiling at Monroe. One of them remarked, "Miss Monroe exudes an unparalleled charm in this film, leaving a deep impression. I have no doubt audiences will adore her."

Another studio head added, "Indeed. I can’t imagine a mature man who could resist Miss Monroe’s allure. She’s a guaranteed box office draw."

The group then discussed the film’s distribution.

Hardy planned to release it simultaneously in over a dozen countries, including the United States, the United Kingdom, France, Italy, Japan, Denmark, and Switzerland.

Everyone agreed with the plan.

The next step was to finalize the distribution details.

At the Marina

After leaving the studio, Hardy took Monroe to a yacht. Seeing the massive vessel, Monroe let out an excited gasp.

"This yacht is gorgeous!"

"Today’s a celebration," Hardy said. "Let’s sail out to congratulate you on the successful completion of your film."

Once out at sea, the yacht anchored amidst the vast blue waters. Monroe emerged in a pink bikini, her stunning figure on full display, holding a glass of chilled wine.

Hardy lounged on a deck chair.

Instead of lying on a chair beside him, Monroe squeezed in next to Hardy, sipping her wine before offering him the glass.

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Her fingers lightly trailed over Hardy as she leaned closer.

Their intimacy grew.

Monroe with a flushed face whispered, "I still remember our first time—on a yacht, just like this. It’s something I’ll never forget. How about we relive it tonight?"

"Of course."

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