“Bring them out.”

“Yes, Carlos.”

Two minutes later, three housemaids walked over to them, carrying boxes. Debbie opened one and looked inside. There was an evening dress, a pair of high heels, and a set of jewelry

Obviously, he intended for her to go, by force, if necessary. He made a gesture to indicate the boxes.

“Dress, shoes, accessories…they’re all here, all customized for you. Put on them and then I’ll take you to a salon.”

“No…”

Debbie wanted to turn him down but Miranda interrupted. She explained with a smile, “Barlow is well-respected. He holds traditional views on relationships between men and women. Every guest there will be family, or spouses. No lovers or friends allowed.”

Debbie still tried

we’re not—” She left her

what his mom meant, and he

the evening dress and handed it to the young mother, whispering, “Don’t be stupid. Now you can prove you’re his wife. I know you’re

could throw tantrums or yell at him. But if she wanted to be Mrs. Hilton,

reluctant, Debbie pursed her lips and glared at the silent

N G E L A ‘s L I B R

innocence. Then, she took the evening dress from

upstairs to get

son sat opposite each other on the sofa. Miranda poured two cups of

with Funk Hinchcliffe, assistant general manager

an eye on

the tea and replied calmly, “I

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