Buddy felt this was probably the most nerve-wracking moment of his entire life. In front of him stood the most famous film director in Hollywood, a lineup of A-list stars, and a whole crew staring at him like he was some kind of rare national treasure. Who wouldn't be nervous, surrounded by this many big names?
"Uh…" He opened his mouth, but as soon as he met those eager gazes, he shrank back and swallowed his words.
Laila chuckled. "Relax, Buddy. We're going to be working together, and if you're too nervous to communicate properly, it'll hurt the film's quality. I'm sure you understand that, right?"
Buddy flushed with embarrassment, rubbing his hands together awkwardly. Ever since being brought here and realizing that Laila intended to film his screenplay, he'd been thinking over something he'd been hesitating about for days. He'd finally worked up a little courage—but under all those watchful eyes, it vanished again.
Seeing his discomfort, others tried to encourage him too.
"Don't worry. The vibe here is great, and everyone gets along well."
Buddy let out a couple of dry laughs but still didn't say what he'd originally wanted to. How could he ask something like, "Does the $1 million you promised for my script still stand?"
Come on—if it were any of his colleagues or friends back in South Africa, the moment they heard Laila Moran wanted to film their script, they'd be thrilled even if it meant giving it away for free. Just getting her attention meant a future full of possibilities. Most importantly, it was a ticket out of South Africa—and straight to the U.S.!
The U.S.. The place countless people dreamed of going. As beautiful as South Africa was, it simply didn't have the same allure.
Laila understood this too. People from any country were the same—those from less developed places would always long for more developed ones.
Take her homeland in the East, for example. At first, so many had tried to sneak or rush their way into the U.S. or other wealthy nations. But once her country caught up in strength, plenty of them started wanting to return home to build their futures there.
So Buddy felt too awkward to bring up money. After all, Laila had already promised to bring him to the U.S.—that alone was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that no amount of money could replace. What was there to hesitate about?
With that thought, he found some peace of mind.
Seeing that he still didn't speak, Laila assumed he just wasn't quite used to things yet, so she smoothly changed the topic. "Once we're back in the U.S., we'll sign an official script acquisition contract. If you're interested, we could also bring you into my company. If you come up with any new scripts in the future, you can give them to us first, and we'll help recommend them to other studios. Of course, if you'd rather go elsewhere, that's fine too."
She kept it flexible. Writing one great script didn't mean someone could keep producing hits. What she saw in him was specific creative strength in certain areas—skills she might need in future projects with similar themes.
So she didn't mind spending a little extra to "keep" him in her company. After all, just this one script was likely to earn her enough to fund ten lifetimes of his salary.
A contract? That meant she was still willing to buy his script? A million dollars? Buddy's breath caught.
He wasn't exactly familiar with how things worked in the industry, but he believed she wouldn't cheat him. Besides, she already had his script in hand—if she'd wanted to take it and run, who could stop her? But from her words, he could sense that she held expectations for him, and that gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.
Just the thought that in one week he'd be on a plane, heading to the legendary Hollywood with the rest of the crew—it was enough to leave him speechless from excitement.
Sure enough, the next morning, Laila showed up on set right on time.
There, the crew and their assigned security were already gathered and waiting.
"I'll skip the speech," Laila said, scanning the crowd with a cheerful smile. "Once we get back to Hollywood, food, drinks, fun, and a full-blown vacation—on me!"
"Wow! Boss, I freaking love you!"
The team broke into cheers.
They needed a break. This film shoot had drained not just their bodies and minds, but also their emotions—especially with how much they'd worried about their boss. From top to bottom, everyone was exhausted. And since Laila had always been generous, when she said she'd treat them, they knew it wasn't going to be anything basic. They were already looking forward to it!
Laila was pleased to see morale spike with just a few words—but they weren't done yet. Getting too excited now would be premature.
"We've got one week! During this time, I want to see your best. How you perform will directly determine the quality of that vacation!"
Everyone instantly understood her meaning. Want a five-star vacation? Then put in a five-star effort. Slack off, and don't expect much.
Who were they? They were Hollywood's so-called "Dream Team" production crew—a top-tier lineup of seasoned professionals. Do you think that challenge from Laila would scare them?
"Don't worry, BOSS! You're gonna be blown away!"
"Boss, you might wanna prep your wallet—we're about to bankrupt you!"
Laila grinned. "If you can bankrupt me, go ahead. Do your worst!"
"Now that's what I'm talking about!"
"Finally, we get to live the kind of luxurious life you do!"
The crew laughed and bantered freely. Of course, they were joking—there was no way they could bankrupt her. Everyone knew she had a legendary credit card—the kind with no limit.
All jokes aside, the clowning around was fine before filming. But once the cameras rolled, if they couldn't rein it in, they'd be hearing the director's wrath.
Still, this crew was Laila's handpicked team of all-stars—many had worked with her for years. They understood each other well and could get into the right headspace quickly. Even Leonardo, who used to get scolded for repeated takes early on, was now performing flawlessly.
A week is long or short, depending on how you look at it.
Back in the U.S., people were eagerly awaiting Laila's return. But here in South Africa, plenty were also hoping she'd leave sooner rather than later.
Some officials had originally wanted to use her presence to boost the country's international image. But thanks to the Martin fiasco, not only had they failed to impress—they'd embarrassed themselves on a global scale.
The newly assigned officers under Fusca had already brought it up multiple times.
"Thank God it's just a week. Hopefully, she doesn't come back again," one of the officers muttered. He'd been assigned after Roy had gone missing.
His first thought when receiving the assignment? What a joke. Guarding a foreign film director? Did it take him—and his elite unit—for this?