"No, no—I don't think that's it," Louise shook her head. "Think about it: yes, doing something like this could tarnish your reputation, maybe even sink your company. But ask yourself—why hasn't anyone in Hollywood pulled this trick before?"
If one company framed another like this, then a third would do the same to a fourth, and so on. It would never end. The entire film industry would be mired in daily scandals. There would never be peace.
As fierce as the competition was, there were still certain lines that everyone tacitly agreed not to cross.
That's why Louise didn't believe this was some malicious competitor trying to frame them. Ironically, she believed the most likely culprit… was someone from the Moran family.
Laila thought for a moment, then called Old Master Moran.
It wasn't that she was underestimating her mother—no, wait, she absolutely was. Her naïve and good-natured mother would never do something like this. If anyone in the family had the capability and the mindset for such a thing, it would be the old man.
The moment he picked up and Laila explained the situation, he gave her a simple response: "I understand."
And then he hung up.
Louise could hear their conversation clearly. But oddly enough, even though she'd heard every word, she still had no idea what had actually been said. Most of it had been Laila explaining, and the old man had barely spoken—so how had Laila managed to extract a clear answer from that?
"What did Mr. Moran mean?" she asked, baffled. "He said he understood, but… what exactly did he understand?"
Laila set her phone down calmly. "He meant it wasn't him—but he's going to investigate."
"..."
Louise suddenly began to doubt her own intelligence. She hadn't caught any of that in the call. They'd barely exchanged a few words, and yet somehow Laila had gotten her answer.
"Don't worry about this anymore," Laila told her. "But I need you to contact your friend again—get a clear ID on who approached that theater owner. I need to find that person."
"Of course. That shouldn't be too hard."
Every cinema had surveillance systems. It wasn't like they were looking for a random fan in a crowd. And since they knew the approximate time of the meeting, narrowing it down wouldn't take long.
Sure enough, not long after Louise made the call, she received a screenshot via email. The image wasn't crystal clear, but it was good enough to identify the person.
"Does this guy look familiar to you?" Laila stared at the screen, frowning. She swore she'd seen him before.
But Louise had already recognized him.
"Isn't this—"
"You know him?" Laila asked quickly.
"Of course I do. He's one of our employees."
Laila's eyelid twitched. "You're saying he's from our company? Who is he?"
"To be precise, he's from Phoenix," Louise replied, then rattled off his full résumé—his job title, his position within the company, even the names of his wife and children. She didn't even pause for breath. It was clear how deeply she knew the company's personnel.
In truth, if it had been someone from Dragon Soul, she might not have been able to recall every detail. The studio had grown rapidly, with far more new hires than old hands.
But Phoenix was a different story. Many of the original staff from Reynolds' era still worked there. Louise had been colleagues—and friends—with them for decades. There was no way she wouldn't know who they were.
When the company had nearly gone bankrupt, anyone with real skill had already jumped ship. A few had stayed out of loyalty or lack of options and later followed Laila to Dragon Soul.
The ones who remained behind at Phoenix were mostly coasting along. Laila hadn't fired them, mostly because they had years of service behind them. Maybe they weren't highly technical, but they could still handle basic tasks. And so they stayed—dozens of them—still drawing decent salaries and enjoying good benefits.
Of course, their pay wasn't anywhere near Dragon Soul standards, but compared to others at their level, they were well-compensated. Laila couldn't fathom what would motivate one of them to pull something like this.
Had someone paid him enough that he was willing to risk losing his job? But who would pay that much just to cause her trouble?
"Could it have been his own idea?" Louise said uncertainly. Seeing his face, she was starting to believe this really wasn't Laila's doing. After all, if Laila had wanted to do something like this, she had plenty of people she could've used. Why this guy?
Laila let out a cold laugh. "His own idea? You think he has the money to pull something like that off?"
Buying off a theater owner to fake box office numbers? That wasn't cheap. That was like trying to micromanage global cinema performance on a temp worker's salary.
Louise fell silent. She'd known the guy for years. He was a drunk. He had three good-for-nothing sons. Maybe it was because they'd grown up without a mother—whatever the reason, all three were lazy and irresponsible, even though they had children of their own. They were still freeloading off their dad.
Forget bribing anyone—this man could barely keep up with his credit card payments. If he ever managed to pay them off, it'd be a miracle.
Sure, Laila's company had great benefits. He made enough to support a family. Maybe not in luxury, but certainly without going hungry. If he were frugal, he could even save some money.
But the guy was a drunk. A good chunk of his paycheck went straight into bottles. The rest had to stretch to feed his whole family. There was no way he had the kind of money needed to bribe a theater owner.
That left only one explanation:
He had been bought by someone.
And now, he had done something that could very well drag the entire company into hell.
Louise knew the moment she saw that face—this had nothing to do with Laila.
But what would outsiders think?
The fact that he was an employee of Phoenix would be all the proof most people needed.
The media—and the public—always preferred the narrative they wanted to believe. If this went public, it wouldn't matter what Laila said in her defense. No one would care. No one would listen.
"Should I report it to the police?" Louise asked, eyes wide with alarm.
The scariest part wasn't just one employee going rogue and betraying the company—it was how many more like him might be out there.
If there was one, there might be two. If there were two, there might be three.
What if more had already been bribed? What if more theaters were being approached in secret?
And what if a few of those theaters refused and decided to tell the media—or worse, the police?