Ever since the Hollywood giants officially launched their lawsuit against YouTube, Isabella had hardly kept in touch with "her own people" — and for two clear reasons.
First, given the situation at the time, they were essentially on opposing sides. Since their positions and camps differed, there was little point in talking.
Second, there was a direct conflict of interest between them. Barry Meyer, Robert Iger, and the others had their roots in Hollywood. When the interests of content capital aligned with their own, there was no way they would fully support Isabella simply because they had a decent personal relationship with her.
And truthfully — their personal relationship hadn't amounted to much to begin with. Their acquaintance, their communication, their friendliness — all of it had been built on mutual interest from the very start. If Isabella hadn't played Hermione Granger, she might never have met Barry Meyer. If she hadn't created The Voice, she probably wouldn't have had much interaction with Robert Iger either.
So when something strong enough to shake that foundation appeared, each side made choices they felt were acceptable — even if those choices harmed the other. Barry Meyer and Robert Iger had tried to persuade Isabella to make concessions in the lawsuit. She could understand their behavior. She could even say that if their positions were reversed, she might have made the same choice. But when it actually happened — when she was the one being asked to sacrifice — she found that kind of persuasion quietly disgusting. So as the conflict grew, the two sides cut off contact.
Time passed. The person who had disrupted their relationship ended up in Azkaban. And reconciliation — well — even if things could never go back to how they were, in the adult world, reconciliation tends to happen naturally.
What does "reconciliation" mean in the adult world? It means acting as if nothing happened. Maintaining a relationship that glosses over the past. Because no matter what Barry Meyer and Robert Iger truly thought, they would never openly admit that asking Isabella to prioritize the bigger picture had been wrong. No one willingly excludes themselves from the bigger picture. So after everything concluded, they would never take the initiative to apologize. The most they would do was reach out as if the past had simply been forgotten.
And a new relationship needs a new platform to begin on.
For example — the current premiere of The Devil Wears Prada.
Here, no one was gathering over business interests, and no one was discussing the headache-inducing lawsuit between Hollywood and YouTube. They were here for the film. Meeting because of the film. Making connections through the film.
So —
"Oh — Isa — you look absolutely stunning today —"
As Isabella walked the red carpet in a Prada evening gown, LV heels, and a Chanel handbag — this was a fashion film premiere, after all — Barry Meyer immediately greeted her with a knightly bow.
Despite his perfect-gentleman act, Isabella frowned slightly, looking mock-wounded. "Oh — Barry — are you saying I wasn't beautiful before?"
"Wow — this is my territory. Do you realize how much trouble that sentence could cause you? If you don't explain yourself clearly, I'm not sure my fans will let you off."
As she threw out the question, she winked at the cheering crowd gathered along the carpet.
Her playful, mock-serious expression sent the fans into a frenzy.
"Yeah —"
The rowdy response made Barry Meyer shake his head dramatically. He shrank his neck and spoke at rapid speed:
"How could that be! Oh — Isa — what I mean is, you look especially beautiful today. The moment you stepped out of the car, the instant you set foot on the red carpet, I felt a powerful aura burst from you — spreading outward in all directions with you at the center. The presence you carry feels like confidence. Like you have everything in the world under your control. It's something I've never felt from you before."
"I'm not saying you weren't confident before — just that, in my memory, you were always beautiful, but in a fresh, luminous way. Like a princess stepping out of a fairy tale. But today, that beauty is grand. Commanding. Like a queen who has just ascended the throne."
He deliberately dragged out his words, as if searching for the right phrase — then turned to the crowd.
"I'm sure you all feel the same. The princess has finally grown up, hasn't she?"
"Yeah —"
Thunderous cheers erupted — this time in clear agreement.
Those heartfelt words made Isabella nod in satisfaction. Like a true queen, she smiled. "Okay, Barry. Your answer pleases me greatly. I hereby grant you a pardon."
With royal mercy bestowed, Barry Meyer responded with exaggerated gratitude. Their playful exchange sent the fans into laughter.
"Oh my God — Isabella is so cute!"
"I want Isabella's blessing too!!!"
"I don't even want a blessing — Your Majesty, punish me instead! Please!!!"
The bizarre shouts turned the red carpet into a gleeful riot. Isabella held her composure for a moment — then laughed. After completing her formal interview with Barry Meyer, she waved grandly and entered the venue.
Since Isabella was the final cast member to arrive, many people were already inside. And since she was the night's undisputed center of gravity —
"Oh, Isa — we haven't seen each other in half a year. I've missed you."
Robert Iger, Disney's powerful second-in-command, was the first to approach, opening his arms. After a brief hug, he said with genuine feeling, "It's only been six months, but the change in you is remarkable. You've gone from princess to queen. It's astonishing."
"Bob — were you secretly listening to my conversation with Barry just now?"
Isabella laughed.
"Of course not!" Robert Iger shook his head decisively. "I genuinely think you've grown."
"Really?"
She didn't quite believe him.
"Absolutely."
"Then your etiquette is a bit off," Isabella raised an eyebrow.
The meaning was obvious — if Robert Iger truly saw her as a queen, how could he have casually pulled her into a hug?
Before she even finished speaking, he had already straightened up. Hand over chest, he bowed his head in apology.
The swiftness of his reaction made Isabella burst out laughing. "I was joking."
Robert Iger didn't mind. Lifting his head, he smiled and gestured to the man beside him. "Isa, it's a shame we haven't seen each other in so long — and it really isn't because I didn't want to. Things have simply been incredibly busy. Pixar has officially joined Disney, for instance. Let me introduce you — this is the head of Pixar Animation, John Lasseter."
"Hello."
At Iger's cue, a slightly balding man with small glasses extended his hand.
"Hello." Isabella shook it, smiling at the somewhat shy middle-aged man.
Disney's acquisition of Pixar had been completed earlier that year. At the time, Isabella had been too caught up in the YouTube lawsuit to pay it much attention. She only knew that despite the strong butterfly effect she had created — disrupting News Corp, reshaping North America's content landscape — Pixar's fate had still followed the same path she remembered from her previous life, folding into Disney.
With the deal complete, Steve Jobs became Disney's largest individual shareholder, holding roughly 5.5% of the company's shares. In her previous life, that figure had been 7%. The reason was straightforward: after acquiring The Voice IP, Disney's recent financial reports had been exceptionally strong, which pushed the stock price up. So when Disney acquired Pixar at a $60 billion valuation, the share percentage Jobs received was naturally smaller. The dollar value, however, was unchanged — around four billion. Which meant this man was, at this moment, technically less wealthy than Isabella.
After a brief exchange with Robert Iger and a confirmation of future cooperation, Iger tactfully stepped aside with his new colleague, making room for others. Next to approach were Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, both of whom had come to show their support.
George Lucas, in particular, never stopped smiling — and Isabella understood why. After thirty years, he had finally turned his IP into a complete, unified entity. With full control over Star Wars, the rewards were enormous — financially and emotionally.
"Isa, I don't know if Steven has ever told you our story," Lucas began. "When Star Wars became a massive hit in the late 1970s, Steven actually suggested I immediately acquire Fox. Only then, he said, would I truly control the franchise. He even offered to lend me money and bring in investors through his family to form a small consortium. We absolutely could have done it."
"But I didn't take his advice. I thought the film industry had already peaked, and there was no rush. I told Steven to wait — once I had enough, I'd acquire Fox outright in one clean move. And then I missed the best window entirely. Hollywood went global. Wealthy players started circling Fox from every direction, and it slipped out of reach."
"I thought I'd never see a complete Star Wars in my lifetime. But —" He shook his head with a laugh. "I'm talking too much. I'm just genuinely excited. Isa, Steven mentioned you love SW too — you just haven't had the time? I'll make you a promise right now: the next Star Wars trilogy is yours. Whenever you're ready, just call me."
"Hahaha — thank you, George." Isabella laughed. "Let's leave it there for now. I imagine a lot of people are waiting."
She genuinely wanted Star Wars, even if her interest in acting had faded. In the Western world, once your fame reaches a certain level, it can be exchanged for almost anything. Star Wars was to the previous generation what Harry Potter was to this one. The torch was ready to be passed.
After Spielberg and Lucas took their leave, Jon Feltheimer, CEO of Lionsgate, stepped forward. Beside him stood the widely acknowledged titan of the film industry — James Cameron.
Though it was their first meeting, the conversation didn't feel strained. After a few polite pleasantries, Feltheimer got to the point: Spielberg had already informed Lionsgate that Isabella was willing to purchase the Avatar project. Lionsgate was also willing to sell Lightstorm Entertainment — James Cameron's personal Hollywood production company, through which all his projects ran. However, Lionsgate didn't want to sell Avatar outright. They wanted distribution rights.
"We're not talking business today, Jon."
Isabella smiled and firmly closed the door.
Feltheimer nodded politely, though clearly disappointed. "Of course. Another time."
Beaver Entertainment didn't have a distribution operation, so on paper, Lionsgate's interest in securing Avatar's distribution rights made logical sense. But Isabella would never hand those rights to Lionsgate — not because she wanted to use Avatar to enter the distribution business herself. Distribution relies on scale; a company with only a handful of projects per year doing its own distribution is simply inefficient, forced to source external titles just to keep the network alive.
Her path was simpler: develop more IPs, then negotiate acquisitions with existing Hollywood studios. Buy a major studio with established global distribution, and you inherit that capability overnight. If she could acquire Disney, she wouldn't need to build the entire chain from scratch. When there's a better shortcut, why grind?
More importantly, Lionsgate wasn't equipped to handle a project like Avatar. The essence of Avatar was that it opened the door to 3D cinema — it forced theaters worldwide to upgrade their equipment. But those conclusions only became obvious after its success. Before that, the world was largely resistant. Under those conditions, Lionsgate simply didn't have the institutional weight required. Only Warner Bros., Disney, Paramount, Universal, and Sony could carry a project like that.
So Lionsgate had to be declined.
Beyond Barry Meyer, Robert Iger, Spielberg, Lucas, Feltheimer, and Cameron, the Vice Chairman of Universal also appeared — the father-in-law of Peter Parker, as it happened. The Chairman of Columbia Music Group was there too — seemingly unrelated to film, but he was the younger brother of Sony's current chairman, Howard Stringer. Paramount's newly appointed chairman, Brad Grey, also made an appearance. His predecessor, Sherry Lansing, had been ousted earlier that year by Sumner Redstone — not over Viacom's failed YouTube lawsuit, but because Mission: Impossible 3 had flopped while Tom Cruise's earnings from the project still came out to 1.5 times Paramount's. That was something Redstone couldn't stomach.
Brad Grey, personally selected by Redstone, was a seasoned industry veteran who had entered the business in the 1970s. Before Paramount, he was a partner at Brillstein Entertainment — the same Brillstein where NBC president Kevin Reilly had once worked, the company behind Saturday Night Live, among other things. Impressive resume. But when meeting Isabella, he still hurried over with an obvious smile and obvious flattery.
The reason was simple: they weren't on the same level. Right now, if Isabella was even mildly displeased, he could disappear from Hollywood — and he knew it. The man who had brought him into the industry was Harvey Weinstein, who was currently serving time at San Quentin alongside his brother. Brad Grey had no illusions about where power actually sat.
Beyond industry figures, the chairmen, CEOs, and founders of the brands that had sponsored The Devil Wears Prada were also in attendance, and their interactions with Isabella were warm. Upon learning that North American content companies would be advertising on YouTube, they each expressed enthusiasm for embracing the internet — the new world. Isabella thanked them graciously and happily accepted their goodwill.
After brief exchanges with the sponsors, she chatted with Anna Wintour — the real-life inspiration behind Prada — smiled and greeted various non-industry guests, and then encountered the evening's most unexpected arrival: a man named Bernard Madoff.
Yes — that Madoff. Then chairman of NASDAQ. He had attended primarily to pitch his financial products to Isabella.
"Mr. Madoff, I'm sorry — but I'm not interested in projects with an annual return of only 15%. The total investment in Prada isn't even $50 million, and as of today — before it's even been released — the actual return has already exceeded 4,000%. If nothing unexpected happens, the total return on this project will exceed 5,000%. Fifteen percent annually is simply too low for me."
She smiled at the old man, then walked away — leaving him standing there, completely stunned.
There was no reason to be polite to Madoff. First, no matter how powerful he appeared, a man with dirty hands had no grounds to take offense at anything Isabella said. Second — it was already the summer of 2006. The subprime crisis had effectively already begun. As early as her vacation in the Cayman Islands, she had heard CNBC anchors report that the U.S. foreclosure rate had risen to 1.24 times that of the previous year. The global elite already knew something was about to detonate. And capitalism has always used economic crises to harvest global wealth — capital doesn't perish, only ordinary people do. Even so, someone still needs to take the blame. A "big fish" visible enough to draw public attention and absorb the backlash.
Bernard Madoff was nothing more than a dead man walking. Someone like that didn't even deserve a polite smile.
Under normal circumstances, over an hour of pre-premiere socializing would have exhausted Isabella. But tonight — being sought after by everyone, especially by those powerful figures whom ordinary people considered untouchable — she found herself genuinely enjoying it.
Honestly, even the most rational and humble person can't entirely resist being toasted and admired. When someone who could decide others' fates with a single word lowers their glass before you — that intoxicating feeling — even if you're not a narcissist — is difficult to refuse. Anyone who claims power is overrated has either never truly seen it or never had enough of it to know.
After making her rounds — or rather, standing still while everyone came to her — Isabella finally took her seat as the screening began. The lights dimmed. Warner's logo appeared. Beaver Entertainment's animation played. Then the screen went dark for a moment, and lit up again.
A hand wiped the fog from a mirror. A sleepy face appeared at the center of the frame.
The new version of The Devil Wears Prada, starring Isabella, had officially begun.