Carlos was hurt. 'I never said I didn't like it.' Debbie's career was booming. Sometimes, she was even
busier than Carlos. He barely saw her at all. And it had been too long since she last cooked for him.
Knowing that she was coming to see him, and bringing lunch, he dropped everything, putting off
meetings and appointments, and was waiting for her in his office.
He heard noises outside, so he rushed to the door to whip it open. She was hugging someone else. His
heart sank.
Although Debbie had said she was going to take the food to Dixon, she was sitting down. Carlos got up
from his chair and sat beside her. Stroking her hair, he said, "Be a good girl. Don't get too close to that
guy, or I'm moving him out of the city."
Debbie sensed his jealousy. "Hey, old man. Dixon and I are just buddies. You're the one I love. What
are you jealous of?"
'The one she loves.' Carlos was touched by those words. He felt that this was a chance to convince
Debbie to marry him. "So when are you going to marry the man you love?" Carlos couldn't wait
anymore. If she turned him down again, he would do it his own way. One way or another, he'd get her
to the Civil Affairs Bureau to sign that license.
Again, she said softly, "I need more time."
Carlos dropped it and continued to eat.
Debbie smiled and opened the latest issue of her favorite magazine. She flipped through it, looking for
the comics liberally sprinkled throughout its pages.
Carlos devoured his lunch and brushed his teeth in the lounge.
When he sat down on the couch again, he dragged Debbie over and sat her on his lap. "Don't I get a
reward?" he asked.
"What for?"
"I ate everything in the lunchbox. I think I deserve a reward. Even kids get a little sticker or something."
He lowered his head on her belly to smell her scent.
She wore a casual coat, a white cashmere shirt, and jeans. In that outfit, she looked like a college
student.
She had been turning him down when the lights were out. But if he wanted a reward... She pecked him
on the chin.
Carlos wasn't satisfied. He looked at her. Her rosy lips in lipstick were so tempting he leaned in and
gave her a long, passionate kiss.
He didn't let go of her until she felt like she was going to pass out from lack of air. She gasped, gulping
down deep lungfuls of oxygen. But the next thing she knew, he pressed her against the couch and
complained, "Honey, it's been almost two months."
"Okay. And?" she asked with a smile, grabbing his wandering hand.
Carlos was definitely annoyed. "So when are you going to give it up?"
"Let me see..." She pretended to be considering it seriously. "I can pencil you in next Thursday..." Then
she came up with an answer. "Never! Haha..."
Frustrated, Carlos buried his face in her neck. To punish her a little, he bit her there, under the jawline.
"Ouch! That hurts. Cut it out, asshole." Her hand flew to her neck. She checked her fingers, there was
no blood, but it still stung. Then slowly, the pain was replaced by the touch of his lips, the feel of
afternoon stubble nuzzling her neck lightly, gentle kisses.
So when Debbie stepped out of the CEO's office, there were a few hickeys on her neck, but she knew
nothing about it.
Dixon wanted to talk to her, but when he turned his head, he saw Carlos standing at the door glowering
at him. So he just waved and focused on his work.
After Debbie left the building, the office was abuzz with speculations about her relationship with Carlos.
"I bet bringing Mr. Huo lunch was only an excuse. Debbie must have been here for some action.
Looking at her neck, seems like she found some."
"What's going on between her and Mr. Huo? They're not married yet, right? Then why does Mr. Huo
ask us to call her Mrs. Huo?"
"Mr. Huo was mean to Debbie when he had amnesia. My guess is he's trying to make amends."
"Ooh, interesting."
Recently, Carlos warned Debbie about hanging around Decker. That he was mixed up with some bad
people
and she needed to watch her step. She forgot about that, largely because she was too busy. And he
was her brother, after all. But Carlos' warnings were like an omen. That night, while driving home,
Debbie's car was forced into an alley. If her driver hadn't been as skilled as he was, they would have
smashed straight into her. She hadn't recovered from the shock of it yet, when all of sudden thuggish
men emerged from the cars and surrounded her.
The alley was dim. One thug told the middle-aged guy beside him, "That's Eckerd's sister. She's a kick-
ass fighter, so I've brought in some of our specialists."
Debbie counted in her head. There were about thirty of them. Enough for a fight between rival gangs.
Only there was only one gang, or so it seemed. And she was their rival, with no gang to back her up.
Just the driver.
"Who's..." She was going to ask who Eckerd was. Then she remembered. 'Carlos said he wasn't who I
thought he was. That among others, he goes by a different name.'
She pieced it together. Decker...Eckerd... Eckerd must be an alias her brother used.
So these men were all there because of Decker. 'Awesome, dude! I'm going to get the crap beaten out
of me in some godforsaken alley because of your dumb ass.'
Debbie's driver was also her bodyguard. He already let Carlos know what was going on before he got
out as well.
"What did Eckerd do?" she asked the punks. "Is it a money thing, or did he take one of you out?"
The middle-aged man set his mouth in a grim frown. He didn't answer her. Instead, he glared at her for
a while and then ordered his men, "Get her in the car."
"Wait! Didn't you know that I wasn't close to Eckerd? I'm his sister, but I haven't seen him in forever."
That was true. Decker was secretive at best, and Debbie was too busy to waste energy or time on him.
"No biggie. Eckerd will come looking for you. We'll be waiting. And then, my saucy singer..." He left the
threat unspoken, but a guttural laugh escaped his lips.
"Haha! She is hot!"
"Delicious!"
The punks leered at Debbie.
Debbie was disgusted. She glanced at them, stretched her limbs, and dropped into a fighting stance.
"Think you can take me? Bring it!" she declared.
Her bodyguard used to be the principal of a martial arts school. He was a master of wing chun, having
even been instructed in how to wield the traditional weapons of the art. He'd also learned the
fundamentals of kickboxing, not to mention wrestling holds.
The sidekicks stepped back, allowing the henchmen to do their dirty work. They came at her, fists
raised.
Debbie dodged the first few swings. Then she sidestepped one man's punch, used the energy of his
punch against him, and threw him to the ground, using his momentum.
Seeing this, the middle-aged man took out his phone and said to someone on the other end of the line,
"She knows tae kwon do. Send some black belts."
As soon as Debbie and her bodyguard took care of those bulky men, around six men with daggers
rushed over at them.
"Delicious!"
The punks leered at Debbie.
Debbie was disgusted. She glanced at them, stretched her limbs, and dropped into a fighting stance.
"Think you can take me? Bring it!" she declared.
Her bodyguard used to be the principal of a martial arts school. He was a master of wing chun, having
even been instructed in how to wield the traditional weapons of the art. He'd also learned the
fundamentals of kickboxing, not to mention wrestling holds.
The sidekicks stepped back, allowing the henchmen to do their dirty work. They came at her, fists
raised.
Debbie dodged the first few swings. Then she sidestepped one man's punch, used the energy of his
punch against him, and threw him to the ground, using his momentum.
Seeing this, the middle-aged man took out his phone and said to someone on the other end of the line,
"She knows tae kwon do. Send some black belts."
As soon as Debbie and her bodyguard took care of those bulky men, around six men with daggers
rushed over at them.
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