The press conference ended. Raphael and Ari walked out of the hall together.
Ari let out a long breath, grinning like he'd just won the lottery.
"Thirty million for two films back-to-back, plus the Step Up distribution deal — Raphael, you just played a monster hand."
Raphael smiled.
"Mainly because Universal was feeling generous."
Ari laughed. "Come on, let's get you home. Script meeting with Neal in a few days."
Raphael nodded and got in the car.
---
The very next day, Ari's call came in. His voice was wrong — not the usual loud, hyped-up energy, but low and squeezed through clenched teeth.
"Raphael, you free?"
Raphael was on the sofa, Jessica's head resting on his lap while she flipped through a magazine.
He heard the tone and sat up straight.
"What's wrong?"
Ari was quiet for a couple of seconds.
"Something's going down at WME."
"What?"
"Can't say it over the phone. Can you come in?"
Raphael checked the time.
"I'm on my way."
He hung up. Jessica looked up at him.
"Trouble?"
"Ari sounded off." Raphael stood and grabbed his jacket. "I'm heading to WME."
Jessica nodded.
---
An hour later Raphael pushed open the door to Ari's office.
Ari was behind his desk, ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. He almost never smoked. Now he was chain-smoking, looking exhausted and pissed.
"What happened?"
Ari looked up, pushed a document across the desk.
"Read this."
Raphael picked it up and scanned it.
Internal memo. Short and brutal.
WME senior management had decided to indefinitely postpone Ari's promotion to top partner and vice president.
At the same time, they planned to assign Raphael a new agent.
"They said you're at a level now that needs someone with more experience," Ari's voice was calm, but the anger underneath was raw. "Said it's for my own good — so I can focus on developing newer talent."
Raphael set the paper down and looked at him.
"What do you want to do?"
Ari gave a bitter laugh.
"Does what I want even matter? They're the bosses. I'm just an employee."
Raphael didn't speak.
He leaned back in the chair. The Force quietly unfolded.
Ari's heartbeat was racing, breathing short, blood thick with rage, hurt, and resentment.
This guy had been with him from day one — when Raphael was still a nobody. He'd blocked bullets, taken heat, fought for every deal.
Now that Raphael was hot, the company wanted to swap him out?
"Who's idea?"
Ari shook his head.
"Not one person. Whole leadership meeting."
He paused. "I heard Ari Emanuel signed off on it."
Ari Emanuel.
The founder and soul of WME. The emperor of Hollywood agents.
If he'd signed off, it was basically done.
Raphael stayed quiet for a few seconds.
Then he stood up.
"Let's go."
Ari blinked.
"Where?"
"To see Emanuel."
Ari's eyes widened.
"Are you insane? That's the owner of WME—"
"So what?"
Raphael looked at him. "You're my agent. They replace you, they replace me."
Ari opened his mouth but nothing came out.
Raphael was already at the door.
"What are you waiting for? Lead the way."
---
Top floor of WME headquarters. The biggest office.
Ari Emanuel sat behind an enormous desk — mid-fifties, silver hair, razor-sharp eyes.
When he saw Raphael and Ari walk in, a polished smile slid onto his face.
"Raphael! What brings you up here?"
Raphael didn't sit.
He stood right in front of the desk, looking down at the most powerful agent in Hollywood.
"Mr. Emanuel, I hear the company wants to replace my agent?"
Ari Emanuel's smile froze for half a second.
His gaze flicked from Raphael to the man behind him, then back.
"This is just an internal re—"
"I don't need reassigning."
Raphael cut him off, voice calm but every word hitting like a nail. "Ari has been my agent from day one. He stays my agent."
Ari Emanuel's eyes narrowed.
He'd been in this town thirty years. He'd seen every kind of star — arrogant, humble, smart, stupid.
But a twenty-year-old walking straight into his office and saying "no" to his face? First time.
"Raphael, you might not fully understand how this industry—"
"I understand perfectly."
Raphael cut him off again. "I understand everything Ari has done for me. Every deal he fought for, every bullet he took. I understand that the only reason you want to swap him out is because I got hot."
Ari Emanuel was silent for a few seconds.
"This isn't personal—"
"It is personal."
Raphael met his eyes.
The Force moved silently, invisible threads brushing against the older man — not controlling, just making him feel, clearly and sharply, that the young man in front of him was not someone to brush off.
"Where Ari goes, I go. He stays, I stay. He leaves, I leave."
The office went dead quiet.
Ari Emanuel stared at him, expression complex.
Then he suddenly laughed.
"Interesting."
He leaned back in his chair and looked at the younger Ari standing behind Raphael.
"Where did you find this kid?"
The younger Ari opened his mouth but no words came out.
Ari Emanuel turned back to Raphael.
"You know what you're saying? You have a contract with WME."
"I know. I don't care about the money."
"You don't care about money?"
"I care about who earns it for me."
Ari Emanuel paused.
Then he laughed harder.
"Fine."
He stood up, walked around the desk, and stopped in front of Raphael.
He extended his hand.
"Ari's promotion goes through at year-end. Vice president, top partner, everything. No changes."
Raphael looked at the hand, didn't shake it yet.
"Your word?"
Ari Emanuel raised an eyebrow.
"When have I ever gone back on my word?"
Raphael reached out and shook it.
"Good."
Ari Emanuel clapped him on the shoulder.
"Kid, keep doing what you're doing. You've got a long road ahead."
Raphael nodded and turned to leave.
The younger Ari followed, still in a daze.
In the elevator his legs almost gave out.
"Fuck… fuck…"
Raphael caught his arm.
"You okay?"
Ari stared at him like he was crazy.
"Okay? That was Ari Emanuel! The emperor of Hollywood agents! You just marched into his office and told him no—"
"I didn't point at his nose."
"I don't care if you pointed! You almost gave me a heart attack!"
Raphael laughed.
"Problem solved, right?"
Ari took a deep breath, then another, finally steadying himself.
"Raphael… I owe you one."
Raphael shook his head.
"You don't owe me anything. You've blocked enough shit for me these past two years. I remember."
The younger Ari's mouth moved, but nothing came out.
The elevator reached the ground floor. Doors opened.
Raphael walked out.
Ari watched his back and suddenly called out.
"Raphael!"
Raphael turned.
Ari stood there, eyes a little red.
"Thanks."
Raphael waved it off and walked out the front doors.
---
A few days later, Vin Diesel's camp started throwing punches.
Raphael was on the sofa, flipping through The Hollywood Reporter, brow slightly furrowed.
Page three, small spot, but the headline was loud enough:
"Vin Diesel's Team Speaks Out: A Fast Without Dominic Is Incomplete."
The article wasn't long, but the shade was thick.
The gist: the soul of the franchise is Dominic Toretto. Vin Diesel gave the character life.
Forcing the series forward without its core would never satisfy fans.
Raphael finished reading and tossed the paper onto the coffee table.
His phone rang.
Neal Moritz.
The producer was practically screaming.
"Did you see that?! That bastard! He still has the balls to say shit like this?!"
Raphael held the phone a little farther from his ear.
"I saw it."
"What the hell does 'a Fast without Dominic is incomplete' even mean?! He's the one who walked away! Turned down twenty-five million because the script 'lacked depth'! Now that we're moving forward he comes out swinging?!"
Neal was so mad he was almost incoherent.
Raphael waited until he finished venting.
"What's your plan?"
"Plan? I'm responding! I'm telling the whole world he's the one who abandoned the franchise first!"
Neal wasn't bluffing.
That same afternoon a sharply worded public statement dropped.
Neal laid it all out without mercy: He had fought for Vin to play Dom when Universal wanted Colin Farrell. He convinced Ron Meyer to give Vin the role. After the first film blew up, Universal offered Vin twenty-five million to return for the sequel — and Vin turned it down, claiming the script lacked depth.
"Some people call themselves the soul of the series, yet forget the soul should first be loyal to its own body."
Neal's statement ended with: "The Fast Saga will continue — and it will be better than ever."
Raphael read it while eating lunch with Jessica.
Jessica finished and looked up at him.
"You're not saying anything?"
Raphael chewed his steak slowly and swallowed.
"I will. But I want to say it right."
He had originally planned to bring Vin back for Fast 4. The bald guy had his flaws, but he really did own Dominic Toretto. The franchise needed him to go the distance.
But now Neal had burned the bridge.
If Raphael came out with "we welcome him back" now, he'd be slapping Neal — and the entire studio — in the face.
Jessica watched him.
"You don't seem worried."
"Why worry?"
Raphael took a sip of iced cola. "Someone's giving me free publicity. I should thank him."
That afternoon, Raphael's response — arranged through Philip's media contacts — hit the papers.