After the premiere ended, people left the theater with different thoughts swirling in their minds. Some rushed home to pour out their excitement online, others were already thinking about how to write their next review, and a few were pondering how they could land another opportunity to work with Laila.
But just as enthusiastic fans got home, fired up to write about the amazing premiere experience, they were suddenly met with a flood of online posts—all about the alleged ticket fraud scandal involving Laila.
Buy ticket sales?
She just wrapped up the premiere, and people are already accusing her of buying box office numbers?
Bewildered fans followed the links back to the source—the news site that had broken the story. And after reading it, many of them were outraged.
"Laila needs to buy ticket sales? I just got back from the premiere—that was the best superhero movie I've ever seen! It was more exciting than Avatar! She doesn't need shady tricks—this thing is gonna break records on its own!"
That was one of the more passionate responses. Some fans, more level-headed, offered calmer takes:
"Let's put the ticket numbers aside for a sec. Avengers really is an incredible movie. Anyone who's seen it will agree. Personally, I don't think Laila would stoop to buying ticket sales."
As more and more people swarmed to the news site, the traffic load exploded.
And then… the website crashed.
It was a relatively small outlet—completely unprepared for the flood of attention. With thousands of people trying to access the same article, the site buckled under the pressure and went offline.
Eventually, the page came back up. But when users tried to reload the article…
It was gone.
No more scandalous headline. No more "proof." No more "interview."
Naturally, Laila's haters seized on this and went wild online:
"The filthy-rich Moran family must've hired hackers to take it down!"
"Classic cover-up! First buy ticket sales, now delete the truth!"
—
Meanwhile, Laila and Roy had already returned home.
After the usual routine of kissing, hugging, and lifting their son in the air like a rocket, the couple sat down at their computer to check out feedback from the premiere.
But instead, what they saw was the internet on fire with the ticket fraud scandal.
Roy almost smashed the laptop in anger.
"They're saying you bought your ticket sales? Are you kidding me? You don't need to! That movie was amazing! You're more than capable of smashing the box office record on merit alone!"
Roy had caught the frenzy at its peak—when the blacklashers were the loudest. The article had mysteriously vanished, and rumors of "a hacker cover-up" were trending. The trolls had completely overtaken the forums.
They didn't stop at this movie either. Now they were dragging up Laila's entire filmography, claiming:
"Her past hits must've been bought too."
"How else does a film with a budget of $100,000 rake in $300 million globally? That's not talent—it's fraud."
"Hollywood said pirate films were dead. Laila made one, and it went viral? You're telling me only she could pull that off? Is she a magician or what?"
Plenty of people were pushing these theories, but anyone with a brain could see right through them.
Yes—Laila was that good. She did earn massive profits from low-cost productions. And she did revive genres others had declared dead.
But success doesn't equal guilt.
And if she had really been buying ticket sales all these years, where was that money coming from?
Even if she owned a gold mine, it wouldn't cover that kind of expense.
We're talking billions.
—
Laila stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered and makeup-free, and found Roy furiously typing on the keyboard.
She walked over, wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, and glanced at the screen.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
Still typing, Roy replied, "There's a swarm of people online accusing you of buying box office sales. I'm furious! You've worked too hard for this. You don't need to cheat. This movie deserves to be number one!"
But Laila gently stopped him, guiding the mouse instead to scroll through the comments herself.
"Don't read that stuff," Roy warned, worried. "You won't sleep tonight."
He tried to grab the mouse away, but she just smiled.
"It's fine. If you don't let me look, that's when I won't sleep well."
Thanks to the trolls, the scandal was spreading even faster than before. With the article now mysteriously gone, people started leaning into the "cover-up" theory—and that only fueled the fire.
"Their imagination is really something else," Laila said with a dry chuckle as she read through the absurd claims.
Roy stared at her face, trying to read between the lines. Was she really unbothered? Or was she just putting on a calm face to avoid worrying him?
But the longer he looked, the more he realized—no, she genuinely wasn't upset. There wasn't even a hint of anger or anxiety on her expression.
"You're really not worried?" he asked hesitantly. "This kind of scandal… It's serious, especially in Hollywood."
"Of course I care," Laila replied softly.
But the mischievous smile on her lips and the twinkle in her eyes completely contradicted that statement. She looked like someone having fun, not someone under attack.
Roy couldn't understand it. Wasn't she supposed to be outraged? Even if she didn't want to let the trolls get to her, shouldn't there be some visible frustration?
"Let's sue them," Roy said suddenly. "Let's sue that damn website into bankruptcy!"
Laila almost sweatdropped.
Bankruptcy? That'd be terrible!
She had just bought that news site recently. If it tanked now, she'd be the one eating the loss.
Especially considering how much traffic the site had just gotten—it was gold.
"Don't worry," she said with a chuckle. "This thing's only just getting started. Watch what happens next."
That calm confidence finally made Roy stop and think. His eyes narrowed.
"So… you've already planned this out?"
Laila didn't hide it. She nodded.
"Yeah. Actually, I got wind that something was going to happen two days ago. So I've been preparing."
Now Roy's expression darkened.
"You didn't tell me. Is that because you think I'm no help? That I wouldn't understand?"
"No, no, no!" Laila waved her hands frantically. "It's not like that. It's just that—the fewer people who know, the better. Besides Xiao Ye, no one else in the company knows. Not even Louise."
Even Louise, her right hand, had been left in the dark.
But of all the names she could've dropped—why say Xiao Ye?!
Roy's face instantly turned stormy.
"Why does Xiao Ye get to know, and not me?"
"Why him?"