"Are you laughing?" The leader of the motorcycle gang was not pleased, feeling underestimated. He preferred it when his subordinates trembled in fear in front of him, not daring to lift their heads. But what was going on with this young girl? She was laughing when he was displaying his power and dominance.
He rolled up his sleeves, revealing tattoos on both arms, along with chains wrapped around them. He menacingly approached her with his gang members.
"Are you laughing at me?"
"Laila!"
Without a second thought, Owen rushed out to stand in front of Laila, even though his somewhat frail frame didn't provide much reassurance. But it still surprised and moved Laila.
"Hey, buddy. I know why you're here. Please, don't harm her, okay? She's just a girl here to have some fun!"
His voice quivered with suppressed fear, but he stood tall, not wanting to appear weak in front of the girl he liked. He knew that by stepping forward like this, he might end up taking a beating, but he would rather it be him than her in danger.
"Owen, you don't have to—" Laila tried to stop him. Her bodyguards were right outside, and if they sensed any threat to her safety, they would immediately rush in to protect her. She didn't need him recklessly putting himself in harm's way.
"It's okay, Laila. With me here, they won't touch you!" Owen's determination was unwavering, and he felt like a true hero today. If it were one of his beloved superheroes facing the same situation, he would do the same. He admired those heroes in comics because he knew he could never be one.
However, his brief moment as a hero came to an end when a massive fist knocked him out cold, sending him flying a meter away.
"What have you done!" The previously quiet group of comic enthusiasts was now infuriated. Owen was their friend, and he had been knocked unconscious right in front of them! If they didn't do something about it, they would never be able to face their favorite superhero comics again.
And so, a melee erupted. Even Laila didn't expect these people to muster such courage and strength under these circumstances.
However, most of these comic enthusiasts were more inclined to be indoors, and there weren't many physically fit individuals among them. Coupled with their numerical disadvantage, they quickly found themselves at a disadvantage.
Seeing Laila about to be exposed to danger, her external bodyguards could no longer restrain themselves. Without waiting for her signal, they all rushed in.
Their combat abilities were far beyond those of the comic enthusiasts, and even the motorcycle gang members couldn't compare. In a matter of seconds, they had the situation under control.
But the story didn't end there. A comically absurd scene unfolded as a group of nervous and stern-looking police officers stormed into the shop, guns drawn, aiming at the tangled fighters inside. To make matters worse, they found a few guns on Laila's bodyguards. This left everyone inside bewildered, and the police officers, now facing both comic enthusiasts and Laila's bodyguards, were on high alert.
As the only clean and normally dressed woman amidst the chaos, Laila was taken to an interrogation room, where two detectives began questioning her.
"Your name."
"Laila Moran."
One of the detectives scrutinized her from head to toe. "Can you tell us why you were at the Hero's Haven today?"
Laila interlocked her fingers on the table, her eyes filled with interest as she looked back at them. "I sensed hostility from you, and your eyes made me feel offended. Why? Did someone pay a certain price to find something on me through you?"
She may not have been arrested before, but she had watched enough crime dramas to know how this worked. These officers were behaving as if they were certain that someone like her, who appeared in a small coffee shop, couldn't have any significant background. Maybe she was right.
The detectives seemed to share her thoughts. One of them pounded the table. "Don't think you can lighten your charges with baseless claims. Right now, you only have one way out, and that's to confess your involvement!"
It was a classic good cop, bad cop routine. While one detective shouted at Laila, the other used a softer tone to coax her.
"You're still young, and your family must be worried about your safety. Think about how anxious they'd be if they knew you were involved in a prison case. Do you want to see them crying for you?"
Laila chuckled, her amusement evident. "What do you want me to confess to?"
"Engaging in illegal activities in the coffee shop!" The "bad cop" slammed the table. "With so many motorcycle gang members showing up there, do you expect anyone to believe it was clean?"
"So what?" Laila calmly retorted. "Do you think we were trading illegal drugs in the coffee shop?"
"Who knows what else was going on?" The "bad cop" sneered at her. "How old are you this year? Your attire doesn't come cheap, does it?"
Laila squinted, her gaze turning colder, but her smile grew wider. "That's right." She raised her wrist. "My shoes cost ten thousand dollars, my clothes cost a hundred thousand dollars, and my diamond bracelet is worth two hundred thousand dollars. How do you think I earned this money?"
The two detectives were taken aback. While they could see that she was dressed extravagantly, they had no idea how to differentiate luxury items. If she were dressed in clothes worth a few thousand dollars, they could accuse her of dealing illegal drugs with the motorcycle gang or even suggest she was selling her body. But with an outfit totaling hundreds of thousands of dollars, how many times would she have to sell herself to afford that?
Sensing that something was amiss, the "good cop" quickly tried to defuse the situation. "We just want to clarify things so we can clear your name, okay? Can you tell us what you were doing at the coffee shop?"
At this point, they still hadn't treated her as someone with significant connections. They had seen plenty of people who wore their entire net worth on their bodies, and she might be one of them. As for her looking somewhat familiar, that could be explained easily. This was Hollywood, and which pretty girl didn't have dreams of becoming a star? Maybe she had appeared as an extra in some TV show or movie, flashing by in a corner somewhere?