Goodbye, Mr. Ex: I've Remarried Mr. Right

Standing before Drake, Kale kept his head down.

"Boss, this was all Debra's setup. You have to believe me."

"You said she was faking. Then go ahead and cut her. Let's see if she wakes up."

"Okay."

Without hesitation, Kale drew a knife from his belt, bringing it to Debra's throat.

Yet, as the blade hovered dangerously close, Debra remained utterly still.

Kale's expression shifted to grim realization. Drake placed his empty glass down on the table with a sharp clink.

"In our line of work, if you can't even tell when someone's genuinely unconscious or just pretending, then you're doing it wrong."

The doctor's earlier examination had left no room for doubt. Drake knew Kale had just lost his judgment in the heat of the moment.

"I understand you're worried about me," Drake continued. "But she's just a woman. No matter how clever she might think she is, she can't outsmart me here in Orkgate." "Yes, sir," Kale replied, his voice reluctant but obedient.

Drake waved him off. "It's late. Go get some sleep."

"What about tomorrow?"© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

"Don't worry about it. I'll take her to see the casino."

Kale was concerned, but he had to comply. "Yes, boss."

Once Kale left, Drake approached the bed and patted Debra's cheek. "Wake up."

She didn't stir, and he frowned, clutching her jaw to feed her.

But the oatmeal just dribbled down her chin. She lacked the awareness to swallow.

Frustrated, he stood up and paced to the door. He yanked it open, startling Lara, who had been guarding outside.

"Boss? Is there something you need?"

"I said I wanted her awake in an hour."

"The doctor said she needed rest. It's only been twenty minutes, sir. She'll wake up soon."

"Twenty minutes?" Drake glanced at Ock on the wall, realizing she

the

had

y been unconscious for that

brief period. Content belong

Sighing, he closed the door and returned to the chair beside the bed. From time to time, he glanced at Debra, struggling against fatigue white sipping his whiskey.

Suddenly, a soft cough broke the silence.

As Debra began to stir, he instinctively wanted to get up from the sofa but quickly caught himself.

He wasn't supposed to get excited about her waking up.

"Water..." Debra muttered, her throat feeling parched.

Drake scanned the room for

resembling water but

and only various bottles of alcohol

lining the shelves.

Frustrated, he opened the door once more and called out, "Lara, get me a glass of water."

"Right away, boss," Lara said, scurrying off to fetch it.

When Drake turned back to the bed, he found Debra sitting up, her face still pallid and wan. She clutched her head, groggy and disoriented. "Where am I?"