In a short while, still on the set at the fashion show, Carlos got a call from Tristan not long after he had sat down.

“Carlos, Debbie…”

“What’s wrong?” a panicky Carlos asked. Although he tried as much as he could to remain calm, the anxiety was detectable in his tone.

“Debbie smashed the TV.”

“Why? What happened?”

Regretting having come here, Tristan turned to Debbie, who had wrapped herself in the covers in bed. Disturbed, he tapped his middle finger at the side of his forehead, now sinking deeper into thoughts. Why did he have to walk into the ward just when Debbie was about to smash the TV?

Now he had to be the one telling his boss what she was up to. While he fumbled for words, Debbie shouted in the background, “Well, do you ever get tired of fooling around with all kinds of women? Aren’t you such an amorous wild flower that entertains anything and everything, from poisonous bees to deadly butterflies? You philandering, thoughtless scumbag!”

his anxiety only grew worse. Carlos said calmly, “Ask her if she had a good time smashing things. If one set is not enough, give her more sets to smash.” It had only been a short while since he had left, but she had already started creating

livid. He couldn’t even

“Yes, Carlos,”

Tristan answered respectfully.

couldn’t hear anything from the other end of the line, but she got every word

this “her”? Is she Carlos’

get her this opportunity to attend this fashion show as Carlos’ date. And since the chance was here, she had decided to use it to its fullest, making sure she left a favorable, Lasting impression on Carlos. The very best she

hung up the phone, she asked in affected confusion and

mood, Carlos simply put away the phone and responded coldly, without even the courtesy of looking at her,

into Debbie’s ward, just as Carlos had ordered. This

me, do you? What do you want me to do? Tear

as the last bottle of IV fluid ran out, Debbie immediately asked the nurses

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