Cooper had been doing quite well lately.
Ever since Faisal vanished from Hollywood—and news of his death began circulating—Cooper's life entered a new chapter.
Well, not exactly "new."
He had simply returned to his roots as a professional film critic.
His popularity had admittedly dipped during his years spent relentlessly attacking Laila Moran, especially when he stepped away from reviewing films altogether.
But now that he'd made a comeback—writing critiques with a more "balanced and objective" tone—his public reputation began soaring once again.
In fact, it was starting to surpass the heights of his former glory.
After decades in Hollywood, Cooper's understanding of film was nearly unrivaled.
His sharp writing and encyclopedic knowledge of cinema had always been what fans loved most.
And even now, in an era when everyone with a smartphone calls themselves a "film critic," Cooper remained a giant in the industry—one of the few true professionals left.
Yes, he could be a little obsessive.
And yes, he always paid back his enemies in full.
But he also repaid kindness, to the best of his ability.
Take his feud with Laila, for example—once intensified by his hatred toward her father, Reynolds.
After being caught in Faisal's schemes and nearly losing his life, Cooper's perspective shifted.
He didn't forgive Reynolds.
But he stopped blaming Laila for her father's sins.
From then on, he saw her not as Reynolds' daughter, but as a Moran, a representative of the family that had once done him kindness.
And the only way he could repay her was through his pen—as a critic.
In the past, Cooper could make up a dozen "flaws" in Laila's films even if none existed.
Now, he used that same talent to praise her work, writing glowing reviews that even made casual viewers feel like they were watching high art.
Even a mediocre film could sound like a masterpiece in his hands.
But Laila's films? They were already classics.
So with her last two releases, Cooper gave his all, publishing dazzling critiques that were beloved by Laila's fans and brought him back into the spotlight.
He thought he was helping her.
He thought she would be grateful.
But at a film industry party, during a casual chat with Laila…
He learned he'd actually been doing the opposite.
A few years ago, Cooper would've fled the room just seeing Laila across it.
He would've glared at her from the shadows, cursing the fawning sycophants around her.
But now…
He found himself joining them—talking about cinema with her, finding they actually had a lot in common.
Then came the shocker:
"I hope you'll be harsher when critiquing my films."
Laila's words nearly made Cooper think he was hallucinating.
"How harsh are we talking?"
Countless studios paid him to soften his critiques.
And she was asking him to be harder on her?
What kind of artist would ask for that?
Despite being old enough to be her father, Cooper felt a wave of respect.
All these years, he'd been so focused on his personal vendetta that he failed to see her pure love for film.
He went home that night and wrote a scathing review.
Not out of spite—but out of dedication.
He detailed the flaws, offered a fresh interpretation, and challenged her artistic choices.
At first, fans were confused.
Hadn't he just been praising her films?
Had he lost his mind? Was he brainwashed? Was he bought off?
Now that he was back to "bashing" Laila, his old supporters cheered.
The Anti-Laila Squad was back in business!
Critique by critique, the media began countering his points, sparking buzz and debate online.
The result?
Laila's film gained attention.
And its box office surged—eventually becoming a commercial hit.
To celebrate, Laila hosted a wrap party.
Cooper, as one of the unexpected "contributors," received an invitation.
The party was warm and relaxed, full of laughter and toasts.
Laila found Cooper in a quiet corner and handed him a glass of champagne.
"Thank you for the review."
"Heh. Glad it helped."
Cooper had changed a lot.
The anger in him had faded.
Maybe it was the trauma of fleeing abroad…
Or maybe the joy of returning home, being with his wife and kids, made him finally content.
Laila looked at him thoughtfully.
She hesitated.
This was her chance.
A question that had haunted her for years was finally close to being answered.
"Mr. Cooper, may I ask you something? Of course, if it's too personal, you don't have to answer."
(She might choke if he refused, but still…)
"Depends on what you want to ask."
"Ahem… It's just…"
She faltered.
What if the answer was worse than she imagined?
What if it affected her mother's life?
What if—
Enough.
"I want to know… what really happened between you and Reynolds? Why did you leave Phoenix?"
She exhaled.
Her shoulders dropped.
A weight lifted.
But Cooper's reaction was very different.
"Ah…"
His expression turned complicated.
Anger. Nostalgia. Pain.
Even after decades, it still felt like yesterday.
He spoke slowly, his voice halting—but the story came out.
Forty to fifty years ago, there were four close friends:
Reynolds, Louise, Cooper, and Suzanna.
They'd grown up together, sharing a love for film.
Eventually, they founded a small B-movie production studio—Phoenix Films, the company Laila would one day inherit.
Their roles were clear:
Reynolds—writer and director, the visionary.
Louise—people person, casting genius.
Cooper—critic with a sixth sense for scripts.
Suzanna—the beautiful, radiant lead actress.
Together, they were a dream team—young, brilliant, and full of potential.
But their dream was shattered.
Why?
"Because Reynolds… started dating Suzanna."
Reynolds was handsome, passionate, charismatic—a man who chased dreams and romance with reckless abandon.
Suzanna had adored him since childhood.
She became his muse, his lover, and his everything.
Audiences loved her.
Her smile on-screen left hearts fluttering.
And soon, offers poured in—from major studios.
But she refused them all.
"I just want to stay by Reynolds' side," she had said.
Everything seemed perfect.
The company thrived.
Their friendship held.
Even Cooper—who loved Suzanna more than life itself—remained silent.
He watched as the woman he loved smiled only for Reynolds.
He accepted it.
Because they were happy.
Until the day it all collapsed.
Suzanna caught Reynolds in his new car, driving through Hollywood with another woman.
Heartbroken, she lost not only her trust in him but also the child she had been carrying.
The miscarriage broke her.
She fell into severe depression.
If Cooper hadn't sensed something was wrong…
If he hadn't kicked open her door…
She would've died from an overdose.
Cooper had never stopped loving her.
But seeing her shattered, because of the man she trusted most?
He snapped.
He beat Reynolds senseless.
Reynolds, guilt-ridden, didn't even fight back.
Cooper cut all ties.
He resigned from Phoenix Films and took Suzanna away.
It took over a year to heal her heart.
With patient, unwavering love, he brought light back into her life.
She wasn't ready to love him… yet.
But he waited.
He believed she would, in time.
Then news came:
Reynolds had married another woman.
"That woman… wouldn't happen to be my mother, Janet, would it?"
Laila asked.
Cooper gave an awkward nod.
"Yes."
"And Suzanna?"
"She's now my wife.
The mother of my children."
He smiled—softly, sweetly.
It was a smile that only someone who'd truly found love could wear.
Laila, happy in her own relationship, still found his smile blinding.
"You're a man worthy of respect."
All past grudges faded.
What mattered was the kind of man he was.
A man who healed a broken heart.
Who waited.
Who loved fiercely and faithfully.
She raised her glass.
"To your happiness."
"Thank you.
And I promise—we will be."
Cooper glanced at his wedding ring, smiled again, and downed his champagne.
He would live happily ever after—with the woman he loved most.
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Thank you for joining me on this journey. It's been a joy and an honor to bring this story from Chinese to English, and I hope the emotions, struggles, and triumphs of the characters resonated with you across the language barrier.
See you in the next story!— The Translator
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This project is a labor of love and free to read. If you'd like to support me in any way:
ko-fi.com/doyenro