When she was about to grab a taxi, a Bentley came out of the garage.The windows lowered. Franklin smiled. "A good husband must be agood driver too. Get in the car."

Sylvia was speechless. She wanted to say that she didn't care if hewas a good driver because they'd gotten divorced.

Sylvia, who had always been sharp-tongued, said nothing this time.She was going to meet someone.

Arriving at the destination, Franklin looked around and frowned."What are you doing here?"

It was a shabby neighborhood. Some buildings seemed to be fallingapart.

The air was smelly.

It was a disgusting place to stay in.

"To replace someone." Sylvia got out of the car and said curtly, “Thank you,go back."

In a broken room, a man in his thirties was drinking.

With a messy beard, he looked depressed.

Beside him squatted an eight-year-old boy. Seeing that the man wasdrinking unhappily, the boy couldn't help crying. He shouted, "Dad, stopdrinking."

He knew his dad had been in very bad health lately. But they had nomoney to go to the hospital.

The man spent all the money he earned on alcohol.

He didn't care about his health at all.

“Leave me alone.” The man shook the little boy away.

The boy was so young that he fell on the ground.

Suddenly, a woman's cold voice sounded at the door, "Brock Davila."Brock slowly opened his drunken eyes, looked at the beautiful womanat the door, and said gloomily, "Who are you?"

“I'm your savior."

Ten minutes later, Brock washed his face, tidied his clothes, and wentto Sylvia.

He looked nice.

The little boy also sat obediently beside him, staring at Sylvia with bigeyes.

“I haven't been filming for a long time." Brock still remembered howcruel Sylvia could be.

They were poor, so they had a well in the yard from where they fetchedwater.

There was a water tank next to the well.

He would never forget the fear and suffocation he felt when Sylviapressed him directly into the water tank.

She asked him, "Sober up?"

Brock was almost choked. Of course, he had sobered up.

So now he obediently cleaned himself and sat there, listening carefullyto this strange woman.

Did she want him, a loser director, to film for her?

That sounded naive and ridiculous!

Brock refused without even thinking about it.

“Don't jump to the conclusion. Keep the script, read it, think about it,and then contact me." Sylvia put the script in front of Brock, "Mr. Davila,you have to get up from wherever you fall. Do you want to end up withsuch a bad name? Your son is so cute. Do you want to ruin his life?"Brock's eyes reddened slightly.

He clenched the script in his hand and did not speak for a long time.He used to be the top student in the directing department of the dramaschool. When he just graduated, he wrote a script and made a movieout of it, which made him famous.

He would never think that he would be accused of plagiarism.

Roland Simon, his good friend, stole the script from his computer andmade it into a movie before him. His film was also being filmed at thattime.

His filming was forced to stop because Roland's film was releasedbefore he was finished.

And Roland accused him of plagiarism.

The investor withdrew the investment. The film cost a lot. The investorsued him and asked him for compensation.

His wife divorced him directly, and what made him even angrier wasthat after the divorce, his wife married Roland.

The script was stolen by his wife.

He spent all his money to pay off debts. But there was still a large debtthat he hadn't paid.

He was devastated. So, he drank every day after that.

Moreover, he was banned from the industry. The once genius directorbecame a shame.

He never imagined that someone would replace him and invite him to makea movie.

His first reaction was that this woman was a liar.

But she brought the script over.

His throat was dry, "Aren't you afraid that I will steal your script and sellit?"

"Oh, I have registered the copyright of this script, even if you want tosell it, no one would buy.” Sylvia said lightly, "Only you and Rolandknew the truth of what happened back then. Don't you want revenge?""I do, desperately.”

“I can help you." Sylvia smiled and looked at him with clear eyes. "Ihave the best production team, and I will invite the most popularactors."

"Why would you help me?" Brock looked at her, puzzled.

She wouldn't help him for no reason.

Nothing was free.

“I am just repaying a favor," Sylvia smiled.

The old man's kind face once again showed up in her head. Before hisdeath, he said to her, "Sylvia, please take care of them for me."

She promised the old man, and she had been working hard for thatpromise.

She was never an ungrateful person.

"Read the script first, and if you agree, contact me." Sylvia put herbusiness card on the table.

After she finished speaking, she turned around and left.

Out of the neighborhood, to her surprise, she found Franklin was stillthere.

People kept looking at the Bentley. No fancy cars stopped therenormally.

Sylvia was surprised, "Why didn't you leave?"

“I'm worried about you. I wanted to wait for you." Franklin opened thecar door and dragged her in. Sylvia, caught off guard, fell ontoFranklin's lap.

Her heart skipped a beat. Her cheeks were burning.

"Did you replace the person?”

"Yes." Sylvia nodded.

"Who is it? Does he or she live here? "Franklin now wanted to knoweverything about Sylvia.

Sylvia looked at him, feeling weird. Franklin wasn't such a nosy manbefore.

But she didn't intend to lie to him. Anyway, sooner or later he wouldknow it.

“I'm going to make a movie and have Eden starring in it."

"Eden?" Franklin gritted his teeth.

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