Chapter 813: A Masterpiece of the Times

A vibrant weekend unfolded at the Marriott Hotel in bustling Times Square, New York. While there wasn't a red carpet rolled out, a throng of entertainment paparazzi had converged outside. With each luxury car that cruised by, cameras flashed incessantly.

Tonight, New York's "Vogue" magazine hosted a pre-"Met Gala" reception within these very walls, setting the stage for next month's grand event.

An Escalade glided to a stop. Out stepped Nicholson, Leonardo, and Martin, gracefully navigating the sea of flashes before disappearing into the hotel's grand foyer.

Leonardo murmured, "Any sign of Bieber yet?"

Martin glanced at Bruce, who shook his head. "Not yet. He's playing the waiting game."

Nicholson interjected, "Stay cool, Leo. Anxiety clouds judgment."

Leonardo nodded thoughtfully.

As they approached the banquet hall, Martin double-checked, "Jack, the candidate's solid, right?"

Nicholson grinned, "Absolutely. Remember who you're talking to—I've been in this game for decades."

Scanning the room, he added, "It wasn't easy, but I pulled through. Met your exacting standards."

Leonardo hesitated, pondering Martin's plan. "Is this really foolproof?"

"Your ideas are rarely airtight," Martin teased in a hushed tone. "But trust me, Bieber will cause a stir this time."

Nicholson chuckled darkly, "Three good Samaritans helping him steal the spotlight."

The trio entered the banquet hall, leaving the matter behind them.

The party's organizer, Vogue's Anna Wintour, approached eagerly. "My prayers are answered! My three favorite troublemakers. Martin, Leo, Jack are we gracing the Met Gala once more?"

Since the '90s, Vogue had overseen the Met Gala, with Anna Wintour at the helm. "Your past appearances were legendary. What surprises do you have in store this time?"

Nicholson smirked inwardly. Creative? He shattered her illusions, stating bluntly, "Anna, I'm retired. Fashion parties take too much out of me. Charity balls, too, I lack the stamina."

Anna Wintour persisted with a playful smile, "Surely you can lure the latest Oscar Best Actress to grace us, Jack?"

Nicholson beamed confidently, "Absolutely. She'll be there."

Anna quipped, "We'll need a gentleman like you, Martin, to ensure she doesn't trip on the red carpet."

Martin shrugged nonchalantly, "I believe I was busy dancing with mummies and camels in the African desert at that time."

Facing these titans of the silver screen, Anna Wintour shed her rumored ice queen demeanor, revealing a woman with a sharp wit. "Let's hope those mummies were as stylish as your lady friends."

Martin couldn't help but laugh, teasing, "Anna, I'm starting to think 'The Devil Wears Prada' was just a smear campaign. A charming and humorous fashionista like you can't be a devil."

Anna chuckled warmly, then embraced Leonardo, linking her arm through his. "Leo here knows me well."

Leonardo nodded, adding with a grin, "A leader in fashion with a great sense of humor."

After a brief exchange, Anna gracefully excused herself to greet other VIPs. Meanwhile, Martin and his companions made their way into the bustling banquet hall, where familiar faces and strangers alike vied for their attention.

Martin caught up with Anne Hathaway for a private chat, while Nicholson found himself engrossed in conversation with Meryl Streep.

Despite the bevy of blonde, leggy models scattered throughout the party, Leonardo's attention was elsewhere. He wandered the hall, scanning the crowd in vain for his target until he found himself near the entrance.

Suddenly, Justin Bieber entered alone, just as Leonardo had anticipated.

Justin, aware of Leonardo's presence, approached confidently, extending a tattooed arm in a gesture of goodwill. "Hey, Leo, fancy meeting you here."

Leonardo ignored the outstretched hand, cutting straight to the point. "What do you want?"

Others might have been intimidated by Leonardo's presence, but Justin, buoyed by bravado, brushed it off with a grin. "Your actions that night made me question my feelings for Gisele. To set the record straight, after you left, I followed her back to her room at the Waldorf."

Halfway through his speech, Justin added, "And Gisele told me that you were her true love."

Leonardo stood frozen, his entire body rigid as if he were a machine. He turned his thick neck slowly, the movement accompanied by a faint sound of bones creaking, and asked, "What are you talking about?"

Justin, with a tongue stud glinting, licked his lips teasingly. "It's so juicy and tastes amazing."

Leonardo had never cared much about Justin's conquests with other girls, but Gisele was different, completely different. He couldn't suppress the urge building inside him.

A hand suddenly gripped Leonardo's shoulder. It was Martin, intervening swiftly as Justin Bieber swaggered in. "Leo, we're civilized people," Martin asserted firmly.

Justin smirked broadly. This guy had the audacity to call himself civilized? Wasn't it Justin who had led a gang against him in Central Park two years ago?

Martin's intervention calmed Leonardo down. He glanced at Justin and turned away, Martin guiding him along.

Justin chuckled to himself as they departed.

As they walked, Martin muttered, "That guy's messed up in the head."

Leonardo nodded knowingly. "Probably popped too many pills before showing up, obvious as day."

Martin raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

"Absolutely," Leonardo affirmed confidently. "I used to idolize River Phoenix; I've seen plenty like him. I can spot 'em a mile away."

"Good to know," Martin said. "Let's stick to the plan."

Nicholson approached them then, whispering, "They're here, look left."

Martin and Leonardo turned, recognizing the girl in the red skirt instantly.

She bore a resemblance to Selena Gomez but had a more striking figure, a stronger version of Hailey Baldwin.

She was Martin's chosen one from the photos they'd reviewed, the one who would validate Taylor's companionship, denying Justin his long-desired Selena Gomez and pre-Hailey Bieber.

As for Hailey Baldwin, well, this girl would later change her name to Hailey Bieber in Martin's world.

Leonardo's gut churned with a mix of frustration and anticipation. "Think he'll take the bait?"

Nicholson offered a reminder, his voice low and cautious. "Remember what we've confirmed. He gets overly excited every time, especially in places like this, it's prime hunting ground for him."

As they strategized, Lana Sanders glided into view, a vision in a short red dress that accentuated her long, slender legs. Her small red bag swung casually from her hand, marking her approach toward Justin Bieber.

Tonight, he was her target.

Lana appeared to be in her early twenties, with a surgically enhanced yet artfully made-up face that highlighted her natural beauty. Standing over 1.7 meters tall, her figure was a marvel of curves and proportions that seemed almost too perfect to be real.

Unlike many who opt for plastic surgery, Lana spared no expense on her body enhancements, driven by a need for perfection and financial gain, even when it involved risks.

Her gaze fixed on Justin Bieber.

Justin, having struck out twice already that evening, raised his eyes after a sip of wine, only to be greeted by Lana's approach.

"You're Justin, right?" Her voice held a hint of surprise, her body swaying subtly to the rhythm of a familiar tune. "Baby, baby, baby, oh..."

Justin recognized the signs of a fan instantly. Over the years, he'd met countless admirers, but Lana stood out, not just for her beauty, but for her captivating presence.

Her features resembled Selena Gomez's but were more refined, with distinct edges that added to her allure. And her mixed-race heritage gave her a unique complexion, a healthy wheat hue with hints of Latin warmth.

Immediately sensing an opportunity, Justin tossed his hair casually. "Are you a fan? You've got a good voice, room for improvement, though."

"I adore your music and you as an artist," Lana replied, extending her hand confidently. "I'm Lana Sanders, a model."

Justin shook her hand warmly. "Lana, I've never met a model as stunning as you."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, drawing them closer with each exchange.

Meanwhile, across the room, the trio of schemers settled into a secluded spot.

Martin glanced around casually. "They've left the main hall."

Nicholson nodded knowingly. "Even with all the layers and potential subcontractors, their final choice is bound to be reliable."

Leonardo couldn't contain his excitement. "I wonder how shocked Justin will be when he learns the truth."

"This is a masterpiece of our time," Martin declared, raising his glass in a toast. "Here's to an era where cunning and charisma reign supreme."