"…"
Cooper didn't respond to her jab. If Laila was just fishing for information, then saying more would only increase the risk of slipping up. And if she really did have proof, then denying it wouldn't help him save face—it'd only make things worse.
Sometimes silence was the smartest option.
"Miss Moran," he said after a pause, "I actually called you today because I have something important to tell you."
Laila raised an eyebrow. "Please go ahead."
She was genuinely curious now. After all, this man had spent the past two years stirring up trouble for her all over the internet. What could he possibly want now?
"…Before I begin," Cooper said, drawing in a deep breath, "about the 'fake box office scandal'—you were the one who leaked that, weren't you?"
Laila smiled silently.
She couldn't help but question whether this was truly the same Cooper who used to go out of his way to sabotage her movies.
Even if it were true—did he really think she'd admit it over the phone?
What if he was recording? What if he uploaded it online?
What kind of idiot did he take her for?
"I'm not sure what you're referring to, Mr. Cooper."
He inwardly grimaced. It was a stupid question.
If their roles were reversed, he wouldn't have admitted anything either.
Still, he was certain that Laila was the one who'd orchestrated the whole mess.
Somehow, she had found out about their scheme—maybe through a leak or pure intuition—and she'd gone ahead and "exposed" it herself, intentionally making the entire setup so obvious that the public instantly saw it for the farce it was.
As a result, their carefully planned attack crumbled to dust.
"But even if you won't admit it, that's not what I really called to talk about," Cooper said. "What I wanted to ask is—don't you want to know who was really behind all this?"
Laila narrowed her eyes slightly, her mind racing.
She analyzed his tone and wording. What was he getting at?
"You mean… Faaris?"
Cooper was shocked. "You knew?!"
Laila shrugged.
I didn't before, she thought. But now I do.
Just from his reaction alone, she no longer had any doubts.
She had suspected for a long time that someone was pulling strings behind the scenes. But without proof, there wasn't much she could do.
Now, thanks to Cooper, she had confirmation.
Not long ago, Xiao Ye had casually mentioned that Faaris might be deliberately targeting her. At the time, she hadn't thought much of it—too busy with other pressing matters.
Besides, Faaris hadn't yet done anything she couldn't tolerate.
But now?
Now he had crossed her line.
If his attempt to frame her hadn't been uncovered in time, it could've destroyed her, her company, and her entire career in Hollywood.
She could put up with people smearing her name, but when it came to attacking the film industry—the thing she loved most—
That was unforgivable.
Faaris?
Fine. Let's settle this. Slowly. Thoroughly.
"If that's all, Mr. Cooper, I have other work to attend to. I'll be hanging up now."
"Wait!" Cooper blurted out.
But now that she'd stopped, he realized…
He didn't actually know what to say next.
He had made all kinds of preparations before this call, but Laila's cool, unpredictable responses had completely thrown him off.
She had left him totally passive.
And he was running out of time.
Every day he delayed, his wife and child overseas were in more danger.
He didn't know whether Faaris had already located them—but he did know that if he was found, the man would not hesitate to eliminate him.
"Miss Moran," Cooper said, forcing composure into his voice, "Faaris is ruthless. He's already lost a lot of money. His last few schemes failed—and next time, if he comes at you again, I can't guarantee he won't resort to something far more dangerous."
That line was something he had made up on the spot.
But the more he said it, the more he realized how true it was.
His failed investment in Green Lantern had already cost him over a hundred million. His latest attempt to sabotage Laila—bribing insiders, faking data—had drained even more of his finances.
Now, Faaris was not only broke but furious.
Combined with Cooper's own betrayal and escape, the man was very likely to resort to darker, more violent methods.
This was America, sure—but it was still a society where the rich could get away with anything.
If you had enough money, there were always people willing to do your dirty work.
"So?" Laila asked calmly.
She understood what he was trying to imply—but she also knew this call wasn't purely out of concern.
There was more.
Did Cooper really care about what happened to her?
Absolutely not.
He was just trying to protect himself.
It wasn't hard to guess:
Something must have happened to him, too—something that made him feel threatened. That's the only reason he would swallow his pride and come to her for help.
To him, Laila was the only one capable of going toe-to-toe with Faaris.
All that stuff he said earlier?
Just bait to get her on his side.
But why should she help him?
"Mr. Cooper," she said slowly, "I think you're mistaken about something.
If this is about money… I have more than Faaris ever did.
If it's about using money to play dirty, do you really think he can outspend me?"
Cooper was momentarily speechless.
She had a point.
Faaris's finances had taken serious hits.
Aside from the tail-end revenue from some previous investments, the man had no new sources of income. His entire business model revolved around film investments—no new projects meant no new money.
And without money, he couldn't invest.
Without investments, he had no return.
And without returns, he couldn't reinvest.
It was a dead-end loop.
Unless he found a way to raise fresh capital, he'd have to wait for outside revenue to trickle in before he could do anything else.
Even then, film investments were a long game.
You couldn't expect box office returns to pay out instantly.
Many films never even made it to theaters.
Others took years to earn back their budgets through DVD sales or streaming.
In other words:
Faaris was running out of time, money, and options.