Innocent? Everyone claimed innocence, but the man in front of her couldn't possibly be innocent.
He knew her. He knew about her films and the fact that she had once served as the acting president of the Moran Group. That alone meant he understood what the Moran Group represented.
He knew her identity, her achievements, her status and influence in the United States—yet he never told his boss, Mr. Martin. How was she supposed to believe he had no ulterior motives?
That was where her suspicions had first begun. But the more she got to know him, the more she suspected that her identity might be exactly what he needed. She had once considered the possibility: if Martin's capture of her had been instigated or manipulated by someone else, that person must have a deep grudge against her.
"You and Martin—your relationship isn't nearly as close as you two pretend it is. You want his empire to fall apart… or perhaps, you just want to see him dig his own grave." Laila smiled faintly. "You're quite something—digging such a deep hole for someone and still managing to earn their trust."
If her hunch was right, then at certain moments, he had likely leaked carefully selected information—just enough for Martin to realize she was capable of earning vast profits, every one of her films pulling in astronomical box office numbers. Hundreds of millions, even billions—sums that someone like Martin could only dream of. That kind of money was enough to make anyone's heart stir.
Someone like Martin, immersed in the criminal underworld, was the type to easily get carried away. Sometimes, he would even directly challenge the authorities, not seeing it as a threat but as a badge of honor and pride.
It was far too easy for someone like Flanders to manipulate a person like Martin. He might have only needed to toss a newspaper in front of him detailing her life and achievements to set the whole thing in motion.
Just look at the setup leading to her capture—there was no way Martin could have come up with all that himself. Getting Roy to walk right into their trap willingly? Every link in the chain was perfectly connected. That kind of scheme required not just intelligence, but also a reckless boldness—a willingness to flirt with disaster.
Of course, it was reckless. Whether it was kidnapping her or luring Roy, their identities meant that the authorities back home wouldn't just turn a blind eye. The gravity of capturing them was something Martin couldn't begin to comprehend—but could this so-called strategist also be so clueless? The fact that he hadn't informed his boss meant, more likely than not, that the entire scheme had been orchestrated by him alone!
Flanders cast a glance toward the bedroom, silently calculating the consequences of pulling a gun and silencing her right then and there.
"What's wrong? Thinking about killing me?" Laila naturally caught the look in his eyes. And when she saw the shock and barely concealed fury in his gaze, she laughed outright. "Curious how I knew what you were thinking? Don't worry—I don't read minds. I'm just a director. Picking apart actors' performances is my day job. And someone like you, completely untrained? How could you possibly fool my eyes?"
Flanders gritted his teeth in silence. He couldn't respond—because he didn't know what to say. It was obvious that, when she laid out her deductions just now, she'd done so with complete confidence. Which meant, no matter what he said, there was no way she would dismiss her suspicions.
"You live up to your name as a top Hollywood director. You spin stories so well they almost sound believable." He sneered coldly. "I thought America was a civilized society—shouldn't all accusations be based on evidence?" The implication was clear: All that talk, but where's your proof?
"Ha." Laila chuckled, thoroughly amused. "Flanders, have you forgotten whose soil you're standing on? This isn't America. And…" She paused deliberately, then continued, "Do you think Martin needs evidence?"
Her words struck like a hammer, slamming straight into Flanders' heart. Does Martin need evidence? Of course not. As long as everything made sense on the surface, Martin would withdraw his trust, begin to scrutinize him, grow suspicious—and eventually, kill him.
"What do you want?" Flanders' mind raced, evaluating every angle, until he finally realized he had lost—lost to the woman in front of him, who had torn down his defenses and exposed his deepest vulnerability.
He desperately wanted to pull out a gun and kill her. But he couldn't—because then the trap he'd laid for Martin would end up burying himself. That wasn't fair. He had already sacrificed too much, and endured too much to realize his dream—there was no reason to give up now.
He wasn't afraid of death. He just didn't want to die before Martin did. He still wanted to watch that pyramid of power collapse under his own hands, to see Martin fall into the muck, stripped of everything. Until that moment came—even if the whole world spat on him—he would continue living with unyielding determination.
"Relax." Laila knew she had won. Step by step, she had dismantled the man's defenses and struck at his most fragile spot. "I just want to discuss our next collaboration."
"Collaboration? With you?" If it weren't for the seriousness of the situation, he would have laughed. "You know my biggest secret, and you want me to collaborate with you? Isn't this the perfect moment for you to tell Martin everything and let him and me turn on each other—then escape with your fiancé during the chaos? Don't tell me those Orientals have nothing to do with you. I've seen them show up on your film sets more than once."
Laila shrugged. "See? You know who they are, and yet you still haven't told your boss. Isn't that the beginning of our collaboration already?" She understood his warning—he was trying to use Dong-ge and the others' safety as leverage to pressure her.
If she told Martin the truth, Flanders would retaliate immediately against them.
Laila understood what he meant. He wanted to regain control. But whether in business or daily life, once she took the initiative, it was rare for anyone to take it back.
Not because she underestimated Flanders' intelligence, but because the kind of scheming and backstabbing she'd been through far outstripped anything he had ever experienced. In terms of psychological warfare, Flanders was at least several levels below her.
So when he threw that threat at her, she brushed it aside with a single sentence. Yes, those men had come to rescue her—but he knew that, and still hadn't told Martin. Wasn't that a huge problem?
Them trying to rescue her was understandable. But if he had concealed this information out of selfish intent, Martin would never forgive him.
Flanders' threat to Laila was like a blade hanging over his neck. Unless he had a death wish and was prepared to take everyone down with him, it was in both their best interests to keep this secret buried.
At this point, Flanders truly had no cards left to play. He hadn't expected Laila to react so quickly. In truth, he had known from the start that bringing up those men was a bad idea—it was a move that harmed both sides. But he had no other choice and could only hope she wouldn't see through the deeper implications right away.