This wasn't even the worst of it. Normal interview requests could be easily rejected by the secretaries—they didn't bother Laila at all.
But some media outlets had direct access to her, like The Entertainer under the Moran Group, and NBC. Even the recently acquired New York Post wanted to jump on the bandwagon and ride the media wave. But before they could make a move, upper management shut it down immediately.
The explanation was simple:
"Think about your attitude before. You really think you'll get an interview now?"
Although the Post had been bought out, most of its leadership team remained intact. The only difference now was that they couldn't blatantly slander Laila anymore. Aside from that, their day-to-day didn't feel much different. So, they didn't bother forcing their way into this one. After all, if she really wanted to make a public spectacle of it, she would've already sent out press releases to every media outlet. Clearly, that wasn't the plan.
Even so, Laila didn't manage to dodge it entirely. Not long after arriving at work that day, she got pestered.
And the one pestering her? None other than Anthony—someone who'd been in contact with her for years, and who she'd tried (and failed) to poach multiple times.
"Boss, how can you have something this big going on and not let your own media cover it?"
"Why not?" Laila replied with a smile. "It's my wedding. I don't want a big scene—just a small gathering with close family and friends. Why would I want to broadcast it?"
Anthony sighed. "Boss, I know you want to keep things low-key. But with your identity, is that even possible?"
"I've always said I'm just a director. As long as I stay behind the camera, I don't need to be a public figure like a celebrity."
"Exactly! You're not a celebrity," Anthony rolled his eyes. "But are you any less famous than one? When you want to be low-profile, you're more private than anyone. But when you make headlines, even celebrities can't compete."
"And you seem to forget," he added, "Mr. Seasonstar is a celebrity. Shouldn't he be in the spotlight?"
Laila touched her chin thoughtfully—he had a point. But she honestly wasn't the type to turn her wedding into a public spectacle. That just wasn't her style, and she had no desire to change.
And besides, in her understanding, Roy wasn't the type to want a high-profile, media-covered wedding either.
"Well, nothing to be done then," she said with a "helpless" shrug. "He's the one marrying me, and just so happens to be a thoughtful, considerate man who understands his wife."
Anthony stared at her, eyes wide, utterly unable to believe such shameless words just came out of his boss's mouth. Here he was, trying to pitch a great media opportunity for the company, and instead he gets force-fed a public display of affection—drenched in icy-cold emotional dog food!
"Boss, you do realize that if this story came out through our own media, we'd sell an insane number of papers—and boost our viewership ratings, right?" he pressed. "All of that goes toward our company's profits. You're the heiress of the Moran Group! You're turning down a chance to make your own company more money?"
And it wasn't like she had to do anything drastic—just an interview or a TV appearance. It was basically like reaching out and grabbing free money! And yet she rejected it without a second thought. Anthony couldn't help but think of a popular Eastern meme:
"When you're rich, you really can do whatever you want."
"At least talk to Mr. Seasonstar about it," he suggested. "What if he wants to use this moment to connect with his global fanbase, get a little face time in?"
Laila gave him a sweet smile. "No need to worry—if he wanted to, he'd have said something by now. Since he hasn't, that means he doesn't."
Anthony nearly choked. He wanted to grab her by the collar and shout, "Do you even care about your company's profits?!"
This was her company, and part of those profits went straight into her pocket. How could she be so indifferent?
Of course, that violent outburst stayed in his head. He knew full well that in this lifetime, there was no chance he could ever act on that impulse.
But there was one thing he could do:
Pester her.
If his boss wouldn't support his work, he'd stick around and refuse to leave until he got results. He knew Laila would never have her loyal, company-minded employee physically dragged out by bodyguards.
He'd never tried such shameless tactics on anyone other than his wife before—but with his years of battle-hardened "pester power," maybe it would work here too.
It wasn't like he had any better ideas. Laila was the granddaughter of his superior and his future boss. What else could he do? And everything about her—every little detail—was a potential media goldmine. Even the tiniest tidbit could go viral. With higher newspaper sales and TV ratings, advertisers would come flooding in. Who wouldn't want that?
So, just when Laila thought she'd successfully talked him down, Anthony returned after a short break—carrying bags.
"What are you doing?" she asked, startled by all the stuff he'd brought with him.
"These are my spare clothes and a few personal items," Anthony replied cheerfully, pointing to the bags on the office couch. "Looks like I'll be living here for a while. But don't worry, boss—I won't interrupt your work. I promise to stay completely silent!"
Laila was dumbfounded. "You're saying… you're going to live here? In my office?"
"Yup. Your couch looks super comfy," he said as he casually made space and lay down on it.
He lay down.
Actually, lie down!
Laila didn't even know what expression to make—her inner voice screaming, "WTF?!"
Of course, she knew the couch was comfortable—she picked it out herself. But what was this man doing, just lying on it like it was his?
"Anthony, you can't do this! This kind of shameless behavior really damages the image I had of you, you know?"
"No problem," Anthony replied calmly. "Boss, if even you aren't interested in making money anymore, then the rest of us employees better start preparing early to find a place to crash."
Laila covered her face with one hand. So this was what he'd been planning all along.
"You're putting me in a really awkward spot."
"Don't worry—I promise not to make a sound."
"You lying there makes it impossible for me to focus!"
"Then I'll sit up when you're working," Anthony said as he sprang to his feet and struck the most perfect sitting posture.
…
Was this a sitting or lying down issue?
Laila genuinely didn't know what to do with this man—someone she'd been eyeing for so long but had never been able to recruit.