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Chapter 342 - Chapter 342 - Special Dinner Guests

Under the media's sensationalism, the situation spiraled out of control and quickly became the talk of the town. In broad daylight, a group of thugs launched a direct and brutal attack on Director Moran and the actors.

Is this still the safe America we know? Is this still the prosperous America we cherish? Is this still the America blessed by God?

Many more people saw that even someone like Laila Moran, with her bodyguards, could be attacked. What about ordinary citizens? Where has the taxpayer's money spent on the police gone?

As Laila had mentioned, this year was a presidential election year in the United States. All the candidates were busy preparing for their campaigns. With such a major incident happening, it couldn't simply be brushed aside.

Laila's status and influence meant that this incident would be scrutinized in a brighter spotlight. The Moran Group had immense media power, and anyone seeking their friendship needed to show some sincerity. What did this sincerity represent now? The candidates were likely well aware.

In America, people were highly passionate about politics. Families like the Morans, belonging to the upper class, already had their political leanings.

When Laila was summoned back to her family's New York home by her grandfather, she met one of this year's presidential candidates, George W. Bush.

"It's an honor to meet you, Governor," Laila welcomed him after a brief moment of surprise. She knew that this future U.S. president was currently the Governor of Texas and would participate in the upcoming presidential election, defeating the long-standing Al Gore.

"I'm delighted to meet you too, Director Moran," George W. Bush replied, giving her a friendly hug.

After some pleasantries, it was time for dinner.

When entertaining guests like this, Grandma would have the chef prepare dinner while she quietly accompanied the guests during the meal, hardly ever speaking. She had become more open-minded in her later years; otherwise, she wouldn't even sit at the same table as guests before.

Laila and her grandmother sat together, occasionally helping with the Western-style dishes while also eavesdropping on the conversation between her grandfather and George W. Bush. She understood that her grandfather had summoned her back for something more important than just a meal, so their conversation was what she needed to focus on.

In fact, even without listening, she could guess the topic of their discussion. This year's election was highly renowned in American history, as it was one of the most contentious.

Laila remembered that George W. Bush had a complicated race with someone named Gore, and he even faced disadvantages, but ultimately won in a very risky manner. She wasn't aware of all the details.

Like many people from the East, she had zero interest in politics. She couldn't even distinguish between the Republican and Democratic parties, let alone choose sides.

After George W. Bush left, Oswald wanted to test his granddaughter's political awareness but received only a puzzled look. So he explained to her in the simplest terms, "Bush is a Republican. Republicans mainly represent the interests of the wealthy and are more conservative. Democrats lean more towards the middle class, the poor, and minority groups."

With that explanation, Laila understood. It made sense that Bush, representing the wealthy, launched two wars in Afghanistan and Iraq when the big capitalists needed it. People from the Democratic Party wouldn't easily start wars because it didn't align with the interests of the middle class and common people.

"So, why did you summon me back? I thought our political stance wouldn't change," Laila asked. The Moran family was undoubtedly part of the wealthy elite, and her grandfather was a Republican supporter. Did he want her to return and brainwash her into becoming a Democrat?

Oswald tapped her forehead and said, "You've stirred up quite a mess this time. He came here hoping that you could make it even bigger and cause chaos in Los Angeles."

Laila furrowed her brows, "Replace the people in power with Republicans?"

"Exactly. You're in a crucial position now, and the Republicans don't have enough control over Los Angeles. If you can help secure Los Angeles for them, it will significantly improve their chances in the elections."

"Alright, I understand." Laila wasn't particularly fond of getting involved in politics. However, since her grandfather had asked, and George W. Bush was almost guaranteed to become the president, why not go along with it to gain some benefits?

Meanwhile, in a certain hotel in Hollywood, a heated conversation was taking place.

"What's wrong if I did it? I just didn't like that woman, so I decided to give her a hard time. What's the big deal?" Faiza justified her actions without hesitation when faced with Faaris's questioning.

"What's wrong? How could you say that?" Faaris wanted to pry open her brain and see what was inside. "You had someone write that Laila was behind the lesbian incident, which caused enough trouble for her. But you went even further and ordered an attack on her! Do you realize how important her identity is in the United States? Do you think you have the strength to confront her?"

Faiza sneered, "What's wrong with doing it? It hasn't implicated me in any way. She's wealthy, and I'm not a pauper either! I don't care how much money it takes to make her unhappy."

With a loud crash, Faaris slammed his fist onto a nearby table, sending teacups flying off the tray and onto the table. "Miss, do you think I found out about your involvement just like that?"

Faiza was taken aback, and then she seemed to realize something, her eyes widening. "Could it be you? The middleman?"

Faaris didn't directly respond to her question but glared at her with intensity. "I've already reported this to your father. He's given the order that from today onwards, any expenses exceeding a hundred thousand dollars require my approval!"

"How can that work? What can you buy with a hundred thousand dollars? Faaris, you've gone too far! You're just a dog raised by my father. You should obediently follow his orders. How dare you bark at the owner like this? Do you really think you're someone special?" Faiza cursed without restraint.

But she had no more words left when Faaris grabbed her by the chin.

His grip was incredibly strong, rendering her unable to turn her head away. No matter how she punched and kicked, it was like hitting a log, and she received no response. Watching his eyes fill with anger, Faiza finally felt fear. When a loyal dog no longer saw its owner as its master and showed its menacing fangs, it was truly terrifying.

"Listen, anything you do will require my approval. If it weren't for the fact that bringing you back now would attract too much attention, you would already be back in Saudi Arabia. Do you understand?" Faaris only released his grip when he saw fear in her eyes, along with tears of terror.

After the room's door closed, Faiza shivered and hurled the nearest object toward the door.

Damn, dog slave! Someday, I'll make you kneel beside that detestable woman at my feet!