Chapter 434 - You're Not Qualified to Speak to Me

Victor smiled satisfactorily and said, "That's right. I can take over your coffee shop, shoulder your troubles, and help you deal with the motorcycle gang's problem. In exchange, you only need to pay a few tens of thousands. You're still a child, and I don't expect you to have that much, but it's okay. I can help you with the rest. You can relax."

Laila chuckled playfully this time. "Oh, I'm really sorry, but not only do you want me to solve my troubles, but you also want me to pay you. How about this? I'll just keep the troubles so your family won't have to worry about the troubles you've caused for them."

Victor's face immediately turned cold. Her meaning was crystal clear; she wouldn't give him the coffee shop!

"Are you playing games with me?" He stood up and slapped the table with a furious expression.

Laila also stood up, her face equally cold, and she slapped the table too. "Who do you think you are?"

She was tired of this charade and didn't want to play this boring game anymore. Compared to shallow scams, she preferred the intricacies of strategy and counter-strategy. She had initially thought that a businessman like him could bring some fun, but now she realized he was just a greedy scavenger.

Victor was infuriated by her sudden change of attitude. "Very well! You're quite something!" She dared to slap the table in front of him. Who did she think she was? He would make her understand that youth wasn't an excuse for making mistakes, and she would learn who you could and couldn't mess with!

"Young lady, I'll ask you one question now. Will you sign this contract or not?" He tossed the transfer contract he had brought onto the table in front of her.

Laila glanced at the contents of the first page and recognized it was about the coffee shop's unconditional transfer. She didn't need to read the rest, so she tore it in half from the middle.

"You're not qualified to talk to me. Go fetch someone who is!"

Victor had never been treated like this before, let alone by a young girl in her early twenties. Early in his career, he had amassed wealth using unscrupulous means, and from his ability to command the motorcycle gang to cause trouble at the coffee shop, it was clear that he wasn't a saint.

After being "insulted" by Laila, his first thought was to use covert means to deal with her, to make her understand that being at the police station didn't mean she could disregard him!

"I'm not qualified?" He laughed loudly. "I wonder who you think has the qualifications if I don't? The President?"

Laila sneered, "This is a police station. What gives you, an outsider, the right to be here and present me with a fraudulent contract? Do you know how much money I spent to acquire the coffee shop? Do you actually expect me to transfer it to you for free and claim it's for resolving troubles? Just how delusional are you?"

"Bold!" Victor was getting angrier. "You're the first person who has dared to speak to me like this and is still alive. I hope you won't regret your words!"

He stood up, his temper flaring.

"Wait!" Laila called after him.

"What? Do you regret it now? You're scared?" Victor turned to look at her with arrogance.

Laila pointed at the microphone on the table. "You should know this is a police station, right? That means everything you just said has been faithfully recorded. Based on your words, I'm the only one alive among those who dared to speak to you like this. So, should I assume that everyone else is dead? Killed by you?"

She couldn't help but wonder if she looked particularly fierce, as she usually didn't mind being watched, but she wasn't used to someone staring at her so intently.

"Have you lost your mind?" Victor laughed scornfully. "So what if it's recorded? Little girl, remember one thing: money is all-powerful. It can make anything happen for you!"

Laila narrowed her eyes. "Are you implying that you've also bought the police here?"

"What if I did?" Victor sneered. "Once you become as wealthy as me, you'll understand that this world only favors the wealthy!"

With that, he didn't spare her another glance and turned to leave confidently. As for the contract, he no longer cared whether she would sign it. If he had initially just wanted to peacefully acquire the property, now he wanted to make that arrogant girl understand the true cruelty of society!

What he didn't know was that after he left, Laila took out her phone from her pocket, confirmed that their conversation had been recorded, and then turned off the recording function with a smug smile.

People in this era were far less reliant on their phones compared to her, a person from the future. So, Victor had never thought that she would use her phone to record their conversation, instead of relying on the two microphones on the table, which were disabled.

The two original policemen quickly entered. Laila put away her phone, preparing to have another "chat" with these two. However, to her surprise, they didn't slam the table, yell, or offer soft-spoken words of consolation. Instead, they stared dumbfounded at her face, remaining silent for a while.

Laila had developed the resilience to be unfazed by being watched by others, but it didn't mean she could completely ignore someone staring at her like this.

"Is there something wrong with my face?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No! Not at all! May I ask, what's your name?" The previously irate policeman, who had been blushing, asked cautiously.

Laila immediately understood. They must have learned her identity during the time they were outside. So she curved her lips into a smile and said, "I believe I mentioned it earlier. I am Laila, Laila Moran."

Clang! One policeman's legs gave way, and he fell to the ground. His colleague helped him up, apologizing as they both headed outside.

Laila instinctively touched her chin, wondering if she looked so intimidating.

In reality, she knew it wasn't about whether she looked fierce or not. They were just startled by her identity. What piqued her curiosity was what had happened outside to finally make them aware of her identity.

What she didn't know was that as soon as the two policemen left the interrogation room, they rushed to their immediate superior and, after reporting the situation, received a torrent of harsh scolding.

"Are you idiots? Huh? What kind of place is this?!" The police chief glared at the two dejected officers, almost wishing he could pull out his gun and shoot them. "This is Hollywood! You are Hollywood police officers, and you couldn't even recognize Laila Moran?"

He picked up a newspaper and opened the entertainment section, tossing it in front of them without even looking. "Look at this! Her name is in every newspaper. Her news was all over the place recently, either in the newspapers or magazines or in movies. And you couldn't even recognize her when she was standing right in front of you and introduced herself?"