Chapter 28: The Producer
The Mercedes S-Class glided silently into the parking lot of the Mahaa Enterprises office. It was 2:00 PM. The art gallery charm offensive was over.
Arjun stepped out of the car. He walked straight to the elevator, unbuttoning the polite polo shirt as the doors closed. By the time he reached the 30th floor, he had stripped it off.
Mallesh was waiting with the black blazer and a fresh white linen shirt. Arjun changed right there in the open office, sliding his arms into the crisp fabric. He buttoned the shirt halfway, rolled the sleeves, and threw the blazer on.
The innocent art lover was gone. The CEO was back.
"Report," Arjun said, walking to the window.
Nanda opened a ledger. "We found the target. Pothuraju. A veteran producer. He has a film titled 'Veta' (The Hunt) stuck in post-production. It stars a Tier-2 hero but has high buzz."
"Why is it stuck?"
"Money. Pothuraju owes Satya three crores. Satya has blocked the release. He wants to force Pothuraju to sign over the satellite rights to him for free."
"Where is Pothuraju now?"
"Filmnagar. At his production office. Satya's collection agents are there right now, creating a scene."
Arjun checked his platinum watch.
"Get the cash bags," Arjun ordered. "Three crores. In the boot."
"Bhai," Shiva asked. "We are paying Satya's debt?"
"We are buying Pothuraju's loyalty," Arjun corrected. "And we are buying a washing machine for our money."
Filmnagar, Jubilee Hills.
The production office of Vaishnavi Arts was a modest building covered in faded movie posters. Inside, the atmosphere was tense.
Pothuraju, a man in his fifties with a balding head and a gold chain buried in his neck fat, sat behind his desk. He was sweating profusely.
Standing over him were four men. Satya's collection agents. They weren't the street thugs Arjun had beaten in the alley. These were financial enforcers—men who broke fingers with calculators in their hands.
"Sign the papers, Pothuraju," the leader, a man named Reddy, slammed a document on the desk. "Satya Bhai is losing patience. Sign over the satellite rights, and we forget the interest."
"But the film cost fifteen crores!" Pothuraju pleaded, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. "If I give you satellite rights for free, I'm bankrupt. I'll be on the streets."
"Better the street than the morgue," Reddy sneered. "You have five minutes."
A loud commotion erupted outside. The sound of a heavy engine. Doors slamming.
Reddy turned toward the entrance just as the glass door swung open.
Arjun walked in.
He didn't look at the posters. He didn't look at the staff cowering in the cubicles. He walked straight into the main cabin, Shiva trailing him like a dark shadow.
Reddy frowned. "Who are you? We are in a meeting."
Arjun ignored him. He pulled a chair and sat down opposite the sweating producer. He crossed his legs, resting his ankle on his knee.
"Pothuraju?" Arjun asked.
"Y-Yes?"
"I heard you have a movie for sale."
Reddy stepped forward, his hand drifting to the knife tucked in his belt. "Hey! Are you deaf? This is Satya Bhai's territory. Get out."
Arjun turned his head slowly. He looked at Reddy with mild annoyance, like one looks at a buzzing mosquito.
"Shiva," Arjun said softly. "The noise."
Shiva moved.
He didn't punch. He grabbed Reddy by the throat, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him against the wall. The plaster cracked. Reddy choked, his feet dangling.
The other three enforcers reached for their weapons.
Arjun stood up. He walked to the desk, picked up a heavy glass paperweight, and weighed it in his hand.
"Sit down," Arjun said.
The command was quiet, but it carried the weight of a death sentence. The enforcers hesitated, looking at their leader gasping for air in Shiva's grip. They lowered their hands.
Arjun turned back to Pothuraju.
"Three crores," Arjun said. "That's what you owe, right?"
Pothuraju nodded, too terrified to speak.
"Mallesh."
Mallesh walked in carrying two large sports bags. He dropped them on the desk. Thud.
Arjun unzipped the first bag. Bundles of cash. Dirty, used notes from the prison racket.
"Three crores," Arjun said. "Count it."
Pothuraju stared at the money. "Who... who are you?"
"I am the distributor who is releasing your film," Arjun said. "I am clearing your debt. In exchange, I want the theatrical rights for the Nizam area. And I want my name on the poster as 'Presenter'."
"But... Satya..."
"Satya is a lender," Arjun leaned in, placing his hands on the desk. "I am a partner. With this money, you pay him off. He goes away. Your movie releases next week. The box office collection comes to me. I take my investment back, plus 30%. The rest is yours."
It was a lifeline. A dangerous one, but a lifeline nonetheless.
Pothuraju looked at the cash. Then he looked at Reddy, who was turning purple.
"Deal," Pothuraju whispered.
Arjun smiled. He zipped the bag back up and tossed it toward the enforcers.
"Shiva, drop him."
Shiva released his grip. Reddy crumpled to the floor, coughing violently.
"Take the money," Arjun said to Reddy. "Tell Satya his account is settled. And tell him..."
Arjun walked over to Reddy and crouched down.
"...tell him the Nizam territory now belongs to Mahaa Enterprises. If he rips down one of my posters, I'll rip down his office."
Reddy grabbed the bags, scrambling to his feet. He signaled his men, and they bolted out of the room, terrified.
Arjun stood up and adjusted his blazer.
"Get the paperwork ready, Pothuraju," Arjun said, walking to the door. "We have a premiere to plan. I want the biggest theater in the city. And I want the front row reserved."
"For whom, sir?" Pothuraju asked, finding his voice.
Arjun adjusted his wayfarers.
"For the Police Commissioner."
He walked out.
The movie was bought. The black money was about to enter the box office and come out white. And Satya had just lost his leverage in Tollywood.
The war had moved from the streets to the screens.