While Laila was busy with the makeup and costumes for the characters in her new movie, in a suite at another Hollywood hotel, something was happening that was both entertaining and, well, tragic.
Faiza furiously threw everything in sight onto the floor, and more newspaper fragments covered the room like a layer of snow. If someone unfamiliar with the situation were to enter, they might mistake it for a mental hospital, completely disconnected from the idea of a five-star hotel's luxurious suite.
"Why is her luck so good? Why is she not dead yet?" Faiza threw herself on the bed, crying uncontrollably.
Faaris, with an expressionless face, picked up the phone and did what he had done several times in the past few days: ordered another suite and compensated the hotel for the damages.
Was it the fourth or fifth suite? He had lost count. All he remembered was that when he informed the hotel that the presidential suite had been trashed and they were willing to compensate double the losses, the hotel staff became extremely "friendly," allowing them to continue trashing rooms until they were satisfied. If they were still dissatisfied, they could keep going, room by room.
The hotel, of course, was satisfied. Compensation didn't just cover the damaged items; it also made up for the loss of income when they couldn't accommodate guests. Now they not only have money but also free renovations. The hotel staff would be strange if they didn't love Faaris.
"Miss, I have reported what happened here to your father, and he hopes you can return home as soon as possible." Don't continue embarrassing our nation and family. Faaris refrained from saying the latter part.
"I'm not going back! Why should I go back now? So that I can be stared at with disgusting pity and then mocked behind my back? I won't go back until I defeat that woman!" Faiza screamed.
"Forgive me for being blunt, Miss. With your current emotional state, you won't be able to defeat her. Moreover, if you continue to confront Miss Moran like this, it will only alienate the prince from you further." If possible, Faaris would prefer to use more forceful means to bring her back.
However, for some inexplicable reason, her father, the wise and intelligent gentleman, always had a soft spot for her. He would rather watch her wantonly consume the goodwill of the Americans toward their country and the family's reputation than leave her to confront a prominent heiress with whom she should not be in conflict.
Faaris didn't understand his employer's intentions, but he knew that his orders had to be carried out. That's why he had been enduring the young lady's eccentric behavior.
"Faaris, you have to help me think of a way. There must be a way to defeat her!" Faiza couldn't think of any solutions herself. Whenever this happened, she deeply missed her own country. At least there, she could make someone disappear from the world with just a little money.
What did it matter to Americans? As long as they could blame it on a robber or a kidnapper, everything would be fine. With money and influence, what use were they at that point?
Unfortunately, all she could do now was stew in her anger and misery.
"Miss, I don't think you understand Miss Moran's position in Hollywood and America. If you want to harm her physically, the consequences could be something even your father wouldn't want to see."
Faaris couldn't be bothered to explain the severity of the situation to her any further. He knew that no matter how much he talked, she wouldn't listen. He had already done all he could by considering her father and keeping her locked up in this hotel.
This was not the answer Faiza wanted to hear. "There must be a way! Even if it's just making her uncomfortable for a bit, can't we do that? I just don't want to see her smugly on television, as if everyone must bow at her feet. Who does she think she is? Just because she made a few movies and wrote a couple of songs?"
Faaris furrowed his brow. "If it's just making her uncomfortable, I might have some ideas."
"Really?!" Faiza jumped off the bed. "Tell me, what's the plan? Can we make her really uncomfortable? Uncomfortable to the point of despair?"
Faaris's forehead pulsated slightly. He had to exert considerable effort to keep his anger from bursting out.
"It will make her uncomfortable to some extent, but it won't lead to her despair!" If it resulted in her death, that would be catastrophic.
"Never mind!" Faiza impatiently waved her hand. "Making her uncomfortable will do! Tell me, what's the plan?"
Faaris took a deep breath to calm himself. "Miss, do you remember the newly constructed area next to the theme park run by Miss Moran?"
"Yes, what about it?"
"The security there is very tight, suggesting that there might be something hidden inside. According to media speculation, it's likely a set for her upcoming movie."
Faiza suddenly realized, "So, we can expose the secrets hidden there to make her uncomfortable? That's a good plan! Whatever she wants to hide, we'll dig it out! Who knows what embarrassing things might be inside!"
Faaris started to say something but then stopped. If this was all she thought it took, then so be it.
Faiza couldn't have known that, inadvertently, she had just solved a major problem that could have caused a lot of trouble. Instead, she was gleefully plotting to make trouble for Laila.
"What journalists can't accomplish, we can. If $100,000 can't get us information, then $1 million will. I believe someone will be willing to talk."
Would anyone refuse such a temptation? The answer was obviously no.
Under the assault of the golden money, even those who considered themselves most loyal were seduced. Five million dollars for a piece of information? That was five million U.S. dollars! It could provide a comfortable life for their entire family. Who could resist such a windfall?
So, a few days later, headlines filled with sensational stories began to appear, featuring the shadow of a massive ship and captivating headlines like "Mysterious Ship: The Next Movie by a Genius Director?" "The Witch Casts Her Spell Again, This Time on the High Seas" "Is the Director Out of Ideas? Is This a Replica of the Titanic's Success Miracle?"
Laila looked at the newspapers in her hand, shaking her head in amusement. These media outlets were making a mountain out of a molehill. It was just a movie set and props. Did it really warrant such widespread attention? Although she did appreciate this free form of publicity.
"It's a shame; it would have been better to reveal it a bit later. We still have a few days before the shoot starts. Should we move up the timeline?" She sighed, caught in the dilemma of having too much publicity to handle.
Little did Faiza know that her attempt to make Laila uncomfortable had backfired, turning into free and massive publicity for Laila's upcoming movie.