Their way of interaction, their language in communication, everything seemed destined by fate to align perfectly.
This disjointed yet dreamy experience made Clara Bennett feel both shy and excited.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains outside the window, bathing the bedroom in a soft golden glow.
Clara Bennett slowly opened her eyes, sat up from the bed, and hugged her knees, dazing there for a while.
Her mind still retained scenes from the dream, and an unconscious smile appeared on her face.
"William Foster, that clingy little demon; it’s all his fault for always lingering around."
She muttered softly, her voice gentle like the spring breeze brushing past the ears.
Indeed, it was because William Foster appeared around her every day, inseparably, that she thought of him day and night, even dreaming of him.
His presence had long been deeply embedded in her subconscious.
Meanwhile, across the city, in another part, the innocent William Foster couldn’t sleep all night due to worries.
He closed his eyes, trying hard to relax, but the persistent images in his mind prevented him from finding peace.
Especially some camera designs involved in an upcoming scene made him feel dissatisfied and angry.
Thinking about these, his brow furrowed tighter, the inner fire of anger grew more intense, preventing him from sleeping.
When breakfast time arrived, William Foster sat at the dining table with a stern face.
He commanded his assistant Sam Clarke in a deep voice, "You need to handle something for me."
After saying this, he didn’t immediately explain the details, just continued to drink a sip of coffee with a gloomy expression.
Sam Clarke quickly nodded respectfully, vaguely guessing it might be related to the film crew.
Sure enough, William Foster coldly said not long after, "This espionage film should focus on the espionage theme. Adding too many irrelevant emotional scenes will only drag down the overall quality of the film, even destroy its original artistry! As an investor, I hope everyone can create a classic work with their own abilities. You go tell them clearly, saying my opinion is clear: unnecessary emotional lines aren’t needed."
Listening to William Foster’s words, Sam Clarke suddenly felt her scalp tingling, and couldn’t help but silently criticize: Boss, you are too involved!
But due to work responsibilities, she dared not say much, only gritted her teeth and expressed that she would try her best to complete the task, then hurriedly took out her phone to convey the instructions to the relevant people.
Although her mind was filled with silent complaints, facing her powerful boss, who could truly dare to say "no"?
Elsewhere, Clara Bennett who also had important plans that day, got up early to prepare.
She tidied up her hair that was a bit messy due to dreaming last night, changed into simple and comfortable clothes, and swiftly walked down the stairs.
Just as she stepped into the living room, her big brother’s voice reached her ears.
Her brother was on the phone, his voice very loud, and she could vaguely hear the other side’s roar coming through the receiver.
It was from the director Ethan Smith’s call.
Ethan Smith had reached the peak of his anger at this moment, and his voice over the phone was practically thunderous.
"What kind of crap suggestion!"
Unreservedly expressing his irritable emotions, he shouted angrily, "Wasn’t it clearly emphasized before? You so-called ’investors’ have no right to interfere in the normal filming process! What does suddenly coming up with this bizarre regulation mean? Saying nothing specific can be involved? Even talking about improving the film’s depth...
Apparently, this sudden interference had completely sparked his fury.
"What does ’low level’ mean? Is it vulgar to add a few emotional scenes in an espionage film? Isn’t it to enrich character personas? Or to enhance the audience’s engagement with the plot? Who exactly gave you the right to arbitrarily judge me?"
Ethan Smith’s sharp questioning words pierced deeply, causing everyone nearby to feel anxious.
Even the usually vigorous big brother could barely cope under such a fierce bombardment, nodding occasionally to alleviate the tense atmosphere.
Edward Bennett sighed helplessly, fatigue and powerlessness evident in his voice.
He lifted his head, looking at Ethan Smith’s face twisted with excitement, and advised in a calm yet somewhat helpless tone, "Calm down first, really, people are just giving suggestions, not intentionally targeting you, there’s no need to be so angry."
Ethan Smith became even more agitated, as if Edward Bennett’s words ignited the fuse, completely sparking his fiery temper.
He abruptly stood up, his eyes reddening, nearly spewing fire, and growled through clenched teeth, "Not letting me shoot? Fine! Bringing me trouble, is it? Alright! I am going to see who can stop me! I’m not only going to shoot but add eighteen passion scenes for the female lead! How about that? Who cares who criticizes! Anyway, I, Ethan Smith, do things as I wish, no one can ever control!"
Clara Bennett was standing aside, innocently caught in the crossfire, her expression evolving from bewilderment to deep confusion.
She couldn’t help but mutter in her heart: What is this nonsense?
Why suddenly vent on me?
Is it just because I am a female actor?
Ethan Smith became increasingly angry, his face reddening, the veins on his forehead clearly visible.
He seemed completely overwhelmed by anger, blurting out those injurious words without any forethought.
These words precisely struck Edward Bennett, the brother fiercely protective of his sister, at his core pain.
Edward Bennett exploded instantly, his previously calm expression turning livid.
His eyes sharp as knives scanned Ethan Smith, nearly roaring out his voice.
"Are you insane! The investor is bothering you, so you vent at the female lead? Why take it out on her! Do you know how inappropriate this is?"
Ethan Smith hadn’t anticipated Edward Bennett’s fierce response; he furrowed his brows and stubbornly retorted.
"Am I venting? Not at all! I’m just filming according to my script! What’s wrong? Don’t you groundlessly accuse me!"
Edward Bennett, upon hearing this, nearly went crazy, his inner anger wholly ignited.
He slammed his hand on the table, the sound loud enough to shake the whole room.
Subsequently, he glared coldly at Ethan Smith, the warning in his tone already thick to the utmost degree: "Listen carefully, the female actor is family! Just signed not long ago! In the future, she’s going to be a top star! You think it’s okay to casually film so many intimate scenes? What kind of topics are you trying to create for her? I’ll tell you, Ethan Smith, if the publicity dares to take this issue to town, this movie will definitely not see a smooth release!"
Ethan Smith was utterly stunned, his eyes widened in disbelief.
He paused for a few seconds, then raised his voice and shouted back: "You have the problem! Why are you yelling this at me too! What’s wrong with sacrificing for art? Is there a problem? Joseph Grant once said, what the heart desires, the eye sees! My eyes only want pure artistic pursuits, but you people are filled with vile things!"
Upon hearing the word "vile," Edward Bennett’s eyes narrowed abruptly, his gaze sharp as a knife.