The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 757: Justin Bieber

"This has nothing to do with you! Mind your own damn business!"

The boy snarled, clutching a bottle. "Get out of the way!"

Brown stood nearby, observing the situation. "Don't take it too far," he said, his tone deceptively casual.

At those words, everyone but Emma Watson looked displeased. Were they really just going to let themselves be bullied like this?

Alex Watson in particular. Though he'd never been in a fight, young men were prone to hot-headedness, especially in front of the opposite sex.

But before he could step in, Emma Watson gave a slight shake of her head, her gaze fixed on the three of them.

Alex Watson, Bonnie Wright, and Sophie didn't know Matthew, but since Emma wasn't doing anything, none of them spoke up.

Alex Watson, however, frowned at Matthew's back, wondering why a man who could face down terrorists would be so soft with a couple of punks.

Emma, however, was calm. Matthew had said he would handle it. A man who could deal with the UNHCR could certainly manage something like this.

She used to think that boys like Tom Felton were attractive: handsome, quick to jump to her defense, hot-tempered, and impulsive—a real man.But now that she was older and had met Matthew again, she understood what being a true man meant. Hot-headed impulsiveness often only made situations worse; calm composure was a rare and precious quality.

"I know who you are." The young man's face flushed as he pointed at Matthew. "What do you want? Butt out."

Matthew noted the unnatural flush on his face.

Most people would have assumed it was from drinking too much, but after so many years in Hollywood, he had seen plenty of people in similar situations. This clearly wasn't from alcohol.

Concluding that the probability was high, Matthew instantly formulated a plan and gave Brown a subtle wink. Understanding his meaning, Brown nodded slightly, remaining alert but taking no action.

"Emma is my friend."

"I don't give a damn. Tonight, she's..."

Matthew cut Justin Bieber off, his tone deceptively pleasant. "Be a good boy and go on back to your room."

Glancing from Bieber to Matthew Horner, the bartender was a little surprised. Horner was being very polite, but this wasn't the kind of problem you could solve with manners. What was he waiting for? Surely Matthew wasn't afraid of this Justin Bieber kid?

He silently gestured for a few security guards to stay put for now. The situation hadn't spun out of control, and Matthew Horner seemed to want to handle it peacefully. It was best to wait and see.

If they could avoid calling the police, all the better. Even if the media got wind of it later, it would be easier to manage.

Alex Watson and Sophie Sumner exchanged glances, a shared doubt in their eyes. But Matthew remained perfectly calm.

He wouldn't let Emma get hurt, would he?

Matthew maintained his composure. Agitation and impulsiveness wouldn't solve anything right now.

Justin Bieber was screaming these things in his face. Should he just take it?

If he did, and this got out, he'd likely become the laughingstock of Hollywood for a long time. But starting the fight himself wasn't an option either. The best outcome would be to provoke the kid into attacking first, then claim "self-defense." That way, even if the story leaked, no one could blame him.

"Get lost!" Seeing that Matthew was all talk and no action, Justin Bieber grew bold. "You want me to beat you up too?!"

"You'd better not cause any trouble." Matthew's tone began to change. "I don't know who you are, but you're going to apologize to my friends."

Justin Bieber screamed, "Go to hell!"

"You're just a boy." The contempt in Matthew's voice was audible to everyone. "Otherwise..."

Suddenly, the girl behind Justin Bieber intervened. "Bieber, stop making trouble, let's go. You saw the news, he can kill Mexican drug traffickers."

"Shut up!" Justin Bieber shot the girl a glare and turned back, tightening his grip on the bottle. "Damn it, so what? What are you gonna do to me, Matthew Horner?! Tonight, I'm going to take you out on behalf of all the Mexican drug traffickers!"

Before he had even finished speaking, Brown's hand was already drawing his pistol from its holster, but it remained hidden under the hem of his suit jacket, unnoticed by anyone.

It was no surprise he reacted that way; "Mexican drug traffickers" was a very sensitive phrase for them.

But Brown was well-trained and didn't reveal the weapon. Matthew hadn't given the code word for a threat, and besides, he recognized this internet celebrity named Justin Bieber.

The words had barely left Bieber's mouth when he swung the bottle at Matthew's head.

Sophie, standing behind them, let out a piercing scream.

Alex Watson instinctively squeezed his eyes shut and threw his hands up to cover his face.

Emma Watson's heart pounded in her chest. After all, she was the one who had dragged Matthew into this.

Fueled by alcohol and various other substances, Justin's brain gave him the illusion that he was agile and fast.

Brown couldn't help but shake his head. It was too slow, several times slower than a punch from one of the worst amateur fighters at the gym.

Justin watched the unresponsive Matthew, a smirk deepening at the corners of his mouth, his ears seemingly waiting in anticipation for the sound of the bottle cracking against a skull.

The next instant, a large hand clamped down on his wrist, and the bottle's downward swing stopped dead. Even using all his strength, he couldn't move it another millimeter.

In a single, fluid motion, Matthew had caught the wrist holding the bottle aimed at him.

Justin felt a large, rough palm grinding against his skin.

Now that Justin had made his move, Matthew wasn't about to stand on ceremony. He applied pressure to Bieber's slender wrist.

"Aah!" A weak cry escaped Justin's lips.

Crash!

The bottle fell to the floor.

The shattering sound reached the ears of the still-agitated Bieber.

"He's... amazing," Alex Watson heard Sophie mutter.

The corner of Emma's mouth curved into a smile.

All the while, Matthew kept his grip on Justin's arm. He didn't use much force, wary that the boy's wrist might snap. This wasn't out of compassion; he just needed Bieber to be able to speak. If he broke his wrist, all he would get was pathetic howls of pain, not words.

"So you want to kill me on behalf of the Mexican drug traffickers?" Matthew asked, his voice laced with cold anger.

The pain in his wrist was manageable. Justin glared at Matthew and said furiously, "I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!"

As he said it, he balled his other hand into a fist and tried to punch Matthew in the face.