Chapter 900: The Meeting

"You're back."

Roy beamed at Laila, his smile so bright it was like a hidden light had switched on behind him, illuminating the entire balcony.

Damn it, Laila thought. How is it that after all these years, I still get momentarily blinded by that face?

"You seem… in a really good mood?" she asked cautiously.

It wasn't every day she saw him sitting on the balcony, clutching a beer bottle—especially not in January, right after New Year's.

Did he even realize how cold it was outside?!

If he caught a cold, what then?

Normally, she'd march over, grab his ear, and give him a stern lecture about taking care of his voice and health.

But for some reason, looking at that ridiculously radiant smile, all her words got stuck in her throat.

"Fine. I'll let him be free just this once."

Roy had had a few drinks—his face was flushed, making his already absurdly handsome features look a little soft and endearing.

Laila couldn't help but smile at the sight.

When she asked why he was in such a good mood, Roy tilted his head, thinking seriously.

Then, he answered simply, "Very happy."

"Something good happened?"

She grabbed his hand and started leading him inside—no way was she letting him freeze out here, no matter how warm he felt from the alcohol.

Roy suddenly pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Yeah, really happy," he murmured. "But also… not happy."

What kind of half-assed answer was that?

Laila sighed. Great. Now I have to decode drunk Roy's riddles.

"Okay," she played along. "What made you happy? And what's making you unhappy?"

Roy covered his mouth with one hand, muffling a giggle.

"Not telling you!"

Laila burst out laughing. He looked like a mischievous child, playful and teasing.

"Fine, fine," she said, humoring him. "Then will you tell me later?"

"Mmmhmm! Very soon!" he nodded enthusiastically—only to lose his balance and nearly fall over.

Luckily, Laila was right there, catching him before he could crash onto the floor.

At this point, his koala-style clinginess was too much for her to handle alone. She had no choice but to call for help.

With some effort, she and the staff carried him upstairs, placed him on the bed, and removed his shoes and outer layers to make him more comfortable.

When she glanced at him again, he was already asleep.

But… his brows were slightly furrowed as if he were dreaming of something troubling.

Laila reached out, smoothing her fingers across his forehead, trying to iron out the small crease.

Before she could press down—

Smack!

Roy slapped her hand away, flipped onto his side, and mumbled groggily, "Mosquito…"

Laila stared for a second before laughing in disbelief.

After tucking him in, she left the room.

"Is Roy okay?" Abel asked as soon as she stepped out.

"He's fine. Just had a bit too much to drink." Laila patted his shoulder. "Let's let him sleep it off and go have dinner."

Abel nodded, following her downstairs.

As they ate, Laila casually asked, "Abel, did Roy seem troubled about anything lately?"

Abel paused, thinking. "Not that I know of. When I got home, he was already drinking, but he wouldn't say why. He was pacing around, smiling one minute and brooding the next… seemed like something was on his mind."

So it's not just about being drunk. Something's up.

"Alright," Laila said lightly, not wanting to worry him. "Maybe he got a new script and is just studying his role too hard."

She smoothly changed the subject.

"Speaking of which, how's the trip planning going?"

"We're just about ready," Abel said, his eyes lighting up. "We're planning to go this weekend. I heard the Lantern Festival is going to be spectacular."

"Yes, it's worth seeing." Laila smiled. "Too bad you missed Chinese New Year, though. That's when you get to experience the full cultural richness. But I'll make some calls to ensure you get the most authentic experience possible."

Promoting Chinese culture internationally was something she was always happy to do.

Abel grinned. "Yeah, a little disappointing, but there's always another time. China is huge—no way we could see everything in one trip anyway."

What he didn't mention was that he and his friends weren't just drawn to China's culture—they were completely mesmerized by the landscapes shown in The Lord of the Rings.

They wanted to see those majestic sceneries with their own eyes.

If Laila knew? She'd be thrilled—because that was exactly what she had hoped for when she filmed there.

The Next Day

Roy was still dead to the world when Laila left for work.

She left him in the care of the house staff, giving a few instructions before heading out.

But she couldn't shake her unease.

The moment she arrived at her office, she called home to check on him.

Only after confirming that he was awake and doing fine did she finally relax.

If it weren't for her scheduled meeting, she wouldn't have come to work at all.

But unfortunately, today's guest was too important—she couldn't let personal matters interfere.

The meeting was with Andrew, the screenwriter of Blood Diamond, and Leonardo DiCaprio, who was both producer and lead actor.

They were here to discuss the film's production.

As soon as Andrew saw Laila, he froze.

Then he started sweating.

"...Director Moran," he stammered, his tongue barely cooperating.

"I—I'm a huge fan! I admire you so much!"

The man looked like a nervous wreck—as if he were a commoner meeting the emperor.

Even though he was a decade older than her, in Hollywood's hierarchy, their status gap was immeasurable.

Power. Wealth. Influence.

She had all three in overwhelming amounts.

But what truly intimidated him was her storytelling genius.

If she didn't win Best Adapted Screenplay at the Oscars, then Andrew might just start questioning the Academy's integrity.

Laila, amused by his reaction, smiled.

"Relax. Have a seat."

Once they were settled in the conference room and the assistant brought drinks, a heavy silence fell over the room.

Laila glanced at Andrew, who looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

She hesitated to speak first, afraid she might accidentally shock him into unconsciousness.

Because let's be honest—

If he passed out from nerves, and they had to call an ambulance, the media would have a field day.

"Screenwriter of Blood Diamond Faints During Meeting with Laila Moran!"

Yeah… not the kind of headlines she wanted to make.