I am Hollywood

[Chapter 1098: Unforeseen Disaster]

Listening to Emma's innocent words, Carmen Kass couldn't help but chuckle -- it was the first genuine smile she had shared in days.

Emma giggled in response and then curiously asked, "Carmen, why are you sitting here all alone?"

"I," Carmen Kass hesitated, considering whether there was any need to hide the truth from such a little girl. Eventually, she confessed, "I've been bullied and lost my job."

"Oh," Emma nodded, offering a sympathetic look as she earnestly reassured her, "It's okay. If you lost your job, you can always find another one."

Seeing the little adult in front of her made Carmen want to nod in agreement, but she felt a surge of vulnerability that compelled her to shake her head instead. She set down her food and said glumly, "I can't find another job. The people who bullied me are too powerful, and they won't let me continue working."

Emma tilted her head, struggling to understand. However, in her limited understanding of the world, she believed that her dad was the strongest person around. The strongest person should be able to deal with even the toughest types, right? Surely, Dad could help this big sister who couldn't find a job.

However, Aunt Joan had often reminded her to be cautious about talking about Dad or bringing others to meet him. Yet, Aunt Joan also frequently taught her the importance of helping others.

After evaluating the priorities of these two pieces of advice in her small mind, Emma made a decision, pulling on Carmen's arm as she declared, "Carmen, come with me."

Still unsure, Carmen followed the little girl's lead and stood up. Since she hadn't eaten anything since morning, her legs felt somewhat weak. Being tugged along, she walked forward a few steps, gazing at the nearby horse racing track, and asked, "Emma, where are you taking me?"

"To get help from Dad," Emma replied. "He can definitely help you find another job."

Carmen abruptly stopped, glancing at the bodyguard quietly following them from a distance, and realized that this little girl, Emma, came from an extremely prominent family. After all, how many people in the world could stand up to Eric Williams?

Furthermore, deep down, she had always been a proud person who disliked receiving favors.

Emma noticed Carmen's hesitation. She tilted her little face up, puzzled by Carmen's reluctance, and pulled her hand firmly again.

Looking into the innocent eyes of this little girl, Carmen felt her defenses ease yet again, and she took a step forward.

This kind, good-natured, well-mannered little girl must have parents who were at least decent people, right?

Maybe.

There was a hint of expectation deep down; perhaps something like in a fairy tale where a kind little girl helps a downtrodden old man and receives a great reward in return.

Though she hadn't helped Emma, the girl was just sincerely trying to help her. Regardless, she had truly hit rock bottom.

With a scattered train of thoughts, Carmen found herself alongside Emma, crossing over the low fence of the racetrack.

...

The area inside the racetrack was vast, covering several hectares. In the distance, numerous horses roamed leisurely on the yellowing grass, while a barbecue party took place in front of some adjacent apartments, bustling with about ten or more people.

Upon entering the racetrack, Emma released Carmen's hand and began to hop ahead.

With the little girl no longer pulling her along, Carmen experienced a sudden wave of anxiety and considered fleeing. It was likely the unique sensitivity of children that made Emma stop and turn back, grabbing Carmen's hand once more.

When they arrived closer to the crowd, Emma again let go of her hand and ran over to a graceful woman nearby.

Carmen stood idly at the edge of the crowd, feeling the curious stares of strangers weighing down on her, utterly bewildered.

Suddenly, the door of an apartment on her right swung open, and two men stepped out, laughing and chatting.

Instinctively, she turned to look.

Her body tensed up, her instincts screaming like a small beast facing a predator.

It was Eric Williams.

It was really him.

A wave of intense fear coursed through her, tinged with anger.

Her body began to tremble slightly.

Now that Eric Williams was there, it was obvious that the girl's parents must have some deep connections with him.

What was she doing there? Was she walking right into a trap?

Because they were so close, the two men noticed her as well, and Eric Williams looked over with curiosity.

Their eyes met.

All the feelings of grievance and anger that had accumulated within her over the past few days suddenly surged, merging with the intense fear that had settled deeply in her bones.

It felt as if she had been transported back to many years earlier.

That afternoon, staring down an approaching army and tanks, the sounds of vehicles, voices, and footsteps filled the air.

The horrifying cracks in the cement bridge loomed before her.

At that time, she could hide under the culvert of the bridge.

Now, there would be no hiding.

With a sudden resolve, all her emotions crystallized into a fierce determination, akin to that of a northern European girl cultivated by the cold, harsh air, striking down like a beast on the brink of death. She unleashed a low growl and lunged at the man without a second thought.

...

The transformation took everyone by surprise; no one had reacted when the girl, who had been so anxious moments before, had already flung herself at Eric Williams.

Eric stood there bewildered, not understanding why the girl who had suddenly appeared at the party would attack him. But instinctively, he reacted, swiftly catching her hand before it could strike his face, while his other hand came up to defend himself, shouting, "What the hell is going on?"

With Eric's shout, the previously frozen atmosphere shattered.

The women instinctively shielded the children beside them while the men rushed forward. Eric's bodyguards acted with lightning speed, swooping in swiftly.

...

The girl, fighting desperately against Eric, sensed the figures converging around her. Despair filled her eyes as she felt a grip on her shoulder. Summoning her last ounce of strength, she wrapped her petite hands around the man's arm defending himself, and without hesitation, she bit down hard on his wrist.

As several bodyguards finally closed in, they professionally restrained her, two large men gripping her arms, trying to separate her from their employer.

However, in her desperation, the girl unleashed a surprising amount of strength, her slender figure easily pinned down by the bodyguards, yet Eric was also unexpectedly yanked to the ground. She held on tight, her small mouth still firmly biting down on his arm, a drop of crimson seeping out from the corner of her mouth.

After struggling for a moment, a brutal punch landed on her abdomen, and her vision darkened -- she finally passed out.

...

Time stretched on for an indiscernible length.

When she finally regained consciousness, it was in a pitch-black dark room.

It felt as though she was tied to a chair, and the pain in her abdomen reminded her that she was indeed still alive.

But she must be on the brink of death.

She was finally, truly going to die.

Suddenly, she longed for her mother. Each time she returned home, her mother would prepare plenty of tasty food and fuss over why she kept getting thinner.

Pretty girls hardly ate anything.

It reminded her of the little girl's words. No, it was actually something the little girl's father had said.

Guilt washed over her as she wondered if she had scared them.

And deep down, she worried whether she'd put them in trouble. After all, she was brought there by the little girl, and then she had attacked Eric Williams.

What a useless person she was, unable to take care of herself and dragging others down with her.

Now, as she felt the tight ropes binding her wrists and ankles, it was clear she hadn't been handed over to the police.

However, the situation seemed even more dire.

She might end up shoved in a sack and tossed into the sea.

She couldn't even swim.

Being stuffed into a sack made any chances of swimming irrelevant.

An attempt at dry humor flickered through her mind; she tugged at her lips, tasting the salty tang of blood.

Instinctively, she extended her tongue to lick her lips.

She must have bitten that man's wrist open.

If only she were a zombie, like in those old horror films she used to watch. Being a vampire wouldn't be too bad either; she'd make sure that guy never had a moment's peace again.

The sound of a lock clicking and the creak of the door broke her thoughts, ushering in a beam of pure white light.

Anticipating what was about to unfold, she promptly shut her eyes, devoid of any false hopes.

She had heard countless stories of Eastern European girls leaving their homeland in search of dreams, only never to return.

She had long resisted acknowledging her roots. Geographically speaking, she might be Northern European; Estonians believed firmly that they belonged in the North, not the East.

The idea frightened her.

She simply did not intend to let any more tears fall, determined to keep her eyes squeezed shut even tighter.

A very familiar voice soon reached her ears, albeit with a tone drastically different from usual -- markedly humble.

"Mr. Williams, I'm truly sorry. I didn't expect something like this to occur."

It was Paul Roland.

She felt her hands and legs being freed. Finally, mustering the courage, she opened her eyes once more.

She found herself flanked by two vigilant bodyguards.

Paul Roland remained outside, still conversing with someone just beyond the door. Moments later, that person stepped inside -- it was Eric Williams.

Oddly, Paul Roland stayed back.

Carmen gently bit her lip. With Paul Roland present, she began to understand that things were perhaps not as dire as she had imagined, so she refrained from leaping up to attack again.

She simply lacked the strength.

The food Emma had given her only allowed her a few bites, and she had no idea how much time had passed since.

...

Eric Williams waved his hand, and the two bodyguards retreated, the door sealed behind them.

Though she remained seated, her body tensed again involuntarily.

She caught a glance at the bandaged wrist of the man in front of her, noticing the wraps around it.

Seeing where her gaze fell, Eric raised his arm slightly, saying, "The doctor said I might have a scar now; I've got a circle of a lady's bite mark on my wrist. How am I supposed to explain this to anyone?"

Strangely enough, hearing these words made the tension within her ease slightly, akin to the comfort she had felt while spending time with Emma.

Perhaps these people could impart that feeling too.

She felt inexplicably guilty, but it was something she would absolutely never admit.

After all, she had been bullied to this extent; she had merely bitten him in retaliation.

So she stubbornly turned her face away.

A hand reached out and gently pinched her delicate face, turning her head back to meet his gaze again.

It was a rather cheeky gesture.

She thought to herself, Alright, we're even now.

Trying her hardest not to let her eyes dart away again, she steeled herself to hold his gaze.

But in the end, she couldn't last past five seconds -- maybe six -- before she succumbed to the urge to look away from the man's penetrating stare.

What a useless mess she was.

The man sitting across from her scrutinized her for a moment before speaking again, "Why aren't you saying anything?"

Her lips moved, and she finally murmured, "Emma?"

"The kids were frightened by you," he interpreted her hesitant tone. "They'll probably have a few nightmares and will never trust a big sister on the roadside again."

She sniffled slightly, a hint of embarrassment washing over her as she looked down.

...

Eric observed the girl before him and didn't pressure her to speak further.

Thinking back to the earlier events, it truly had been an unforeseen disaster.

After the bodyguards had subdued the girl, chaos still reigned; they swiftly ushered the women and children away from the scene. After tending to his own injury, Eric finally found the energy to handle the matter.

The girl had personal identification on her, making her identity easy to verify.

After some minor complications, he quickly understood the entire sequence of events.

It was both absurd and amusing.

Eric had never closely monitored the squabbles among women, yet he had not anticipated being caught in the crossfire this time.

This bite had truly been an uninvited surprise.

"Paul Roland is still outside; you'll go back with him soon," he paused before continuing, "I spoke to Gisele on the phone; she won't bully you anymore."

Carmen lifted her head once more.

Could it be that the man before her was so easily letting her off the hook?

Eric suddenly laughed. "Are you wondering why I'm letting you off?"

Feeling exposed, she instinctively turned her head away, wanting to avoid his gaze, only for that persistent hand to reach out again, forcing her face back toward him again.

That was just too much.

Did he really think she was easy to push around?

Ignited by a flare of defiance, she shot daggers at the man.

Eric raised his wrapped wrist again and said, "Don't worry, I never said I would let you off the hook."

"I," she paused, finally finding the courage to speak. "I will pay for your medical expenses."

"I'm not interested in the cost of your bite," Eric shook his head, sizing her up with a smirk, like a villain savoring the moment.

However, he didn't continue the conversation, instead rising to his feet, declaring, "Alright, let's head back."

As she stood and followed the man, her eyes darted nervously before she whispered, "I--I still need my money and my car."

*****

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