"Your Highness, how come you have time to call me today?" When Laila saw the number, she actually hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to pick up.
If Roy found out that Al Nadeem had called her, he would start nagging her again, trying to brainwash her. He would say things like, "Just because someone rides a white horse doesn't mean he's a prince; he might be the monk Tang Sanzang,"—some phrase he'd learned from Chinese internet slang.
She didn't know what misunderstanding he had about that saying. It didn't mean what he thought at all, okay? She could sort of understand that he wanted her to treat Al Nadeem like the monk—respectful but distant—but prince or not, with or without a white horse, he was indeed a prince.
Laila thought he was calling to congratulate her, but instead, he said something completely different.
"Laila, did you hear about Dawud's bankruptcy?"
"Dawud?" Laila felt the name sounded familiar for a second. "Who's that?"
"..." Al Nadeem fell silent for a moment. "Faiza's father. Don't tell me you've forgotten Faiza, too."
"Oh! Him." Laila finally remembered.
If he hadn't mentioned Faiza, she would have long forgotten about that man she'd left behind. She hadn't felt any need to stay connected with him, so she never gave it another thought. "You called specifically to tell me about his bankruptcy?"
She was surprised. Why would he think she needed to know about the bankruptcy of someone completely irrelevant to her? What did his downfall have to do with her?
"You didn't know?"
"Should I have known?"
Al Nadeem heard the confusion in her voice, and the certainty in his heart began to waver. "It wasn't you?"
"Ha." Laila let out a dry laugh. "Why would you think I could do something like that? After he paid me compensation and supported my career financially, I had nothing more to do with him. As for bankrupting him—don't pin that on me!"
Just how powerful did His Highness think she was?
How could she possibly have the reach to interfere over there and bankrupt such a big business tycoon? And even if she could, what good would it do her? She didn't have any business interests over there, nor any financial stakes—so why would she waste her energy on that? If she had spare money and time, she would have long invested it in the East rather than becoming someone else's pawn.
Al Nadeem stared at the receiver suspiciously for a long time before finally saying, "I originally thought you were behind it. In recent years, his business has been going badly. Many in his family were against him, determined to pull him down from his leadership position. They succeeded—Dawud not only went bankrupt but also got sent to prison. I suspect he won't see the sky outside those prison walls ever again."
Laila replied with amusement, "It wasn't me. I don't have that kind of power! I'm just a filmmaker—what, if I make a movie about assassinating him, he'd get assassinated?"
"That's what's strange. Based on my investigation, in recent years, someone has been secretly funding his competitors. And it started right after that incident you had over here." If it hadn't been for this timing, Al Nadeem wouldn't have suspected her at all.
At first, he didn't believe it was Laila either. But the timing and the motive matched too perfectly—there was no one else who fit so well.
Laila was also curious. "With the kind of daughter he raised, I'm sure he had a difficult personality, too, right? Maybe he offended someone he shouldn't have?"
"I haven't received any such information yet." Al Nadeem shrugged, deciding he would keep investigating. "Anyway, with him bankrupt, things on your side should feel a bit easier now, right?"
"Why would I feel more at ease just because he went bankrupt?" Laila was bewildered by the question again.
Al Nadeem rolled his eyes, completely losing any semblance of princely elegance. "Please, don't tell me you didn't know Faaris has been working against you all this time."
"Oh, you mean him." Laila did know about him. "He's helped me quite a lot," she said with a sudden smile. Faaris's backer was Dawud; if the backer went bankrupt, could he stay around?
Al Nadeem almost thought he was hearing things. "Are you joking? That man, help you?"
He had seen Faaris at certain events. The strongest impression Faaris gave was like a desert scorpion—usually hiding in the shadows, but always delivering a lethal strike when he did appear. Vicious, venomous—none of his targets had ever escaped, and they all "died" miserably.
"He did help me," Laila laughed, her eyes curving into crescents. "He often paid to plant articles smearing me, so I didn't even have to fight with myself to create controversy and gain exposure. You know, in our entertainment industry, if you don't know how to stir hype, you'll be left to starve."
What else could Al Nadeem say? He could only give her a thumbs-up. "You're incredible."
Despite everything, the conversation was quite pleasant. Laila felt that if he didn't always speak to her in that overly tender, affectionate way, chatting with him was quite enjoyable. With his Western education, Al Nadeem had a Western sense of humor, but not to the extent that it made her Eastern soul feel uncomfortable.
However, the information he brought did leave her feeling a little unsettled.
He had so confidently stated that the timeline for Dawud's troubles started right after her incident over there, and some of the funding supporting his competitors had even come from the U.S. Given Al Nadeem's position in his country and family, he wouldn't have received false information. So his news should be reliable.
But Laila was sure it wasn't her doing. Even if she had wanted to do something, her influence didn't stretch that far.
Thinking and thinking, she suddenly sat up straight. If it wasn't her… could it have been Grandpa?
She put her hand on the phone, ready to call and ask directly. But the moment she touched the receiver, she pulled her hand back.
If she asked, and it turned out to be Grandpa, then what?
Scold him?
What a joke!
A grandpa who would bankrupt a billionaire halfway across the world just to avenge his granddaughter—who would scold such a grandpa?
If she posted about this online, the comments would line up neatly saying—"I want a dozen grandpas like that!"
But if she didn't clarify, it would always nag at her heart. Having something weighing on her mind didn't seem good for her mental or physical health...
So, after thinking it over and over again, she finally picked up the phone and dialed Grandpa's number.
"Grandpa, was Dawud's bankruptcy your doing?" As soon as the call connected, she asked directly.