Mr Carlos Huo, She's Your Wife

Debbie's heart was hammering while she anxiously stammered to explain herself, "That's not true. My apology is sincere. I'm really sorry for offending you..."

Ever since Carlos moved back into the villa, he was not the mean, old womanizer he used to be; he was a changed man. He acted like a responsible adult and paid full attention to Debbie's daily needs. Debbie reminded herself all the time to stop being so headstrong with him. Perhaps if she made more of an effort to get along with him, he would get off her back.

Carlos interrupted her impatiently. "Enough. Now go away. You are forbidden to go into the kitchen ever again." When he finished talking, he produced a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his mouth gracefully.

'But why?' Debbie wondered. By now, she already knew better than to anger him again. "Got it. I'm sorry for disturbing your work." Debbie expelled her curiosity and answered like a good girl.

After picking up the meal box, Debbie made her way to the door. Before stepping out of the office, she looked back and asked, "Um, Carlos Huo, could you sign the divorce papers?"

"So, that's what all this was about." Just as he had anticipated, she was up to something. 'I knew she wouldn't just turn into this friendly, polite girl for no reason, ' he sneered inwardly.

Now that Carlos had seen through her facade, Debbie decided to come out with the truth. "Yes, it is. I just want the divorce. Why else did you think I did all of this?" In truth, Debbie had been grateful to Carlos before they had a falling-out. After all, he had financially supported her for three years.

Unfortunately, their recent unpleasant encounters had left a terrible impression on her. All the gratitude she had for him had evaporated.

"I told you to ask my grandfather's permission, if you want a divorce. I'll sign the papers as long as he says it's okay."

Carlos' reply infuriated Debbie so much that she dashed towards his desk. But eventually, she clenched her fists to stop her temper from flaring. "How can a comatose patient give consent to anything?" she exclaimed.

"That's not my problem. Now get out!"

he warned with a stern look on his face. Rendered speechless, Debbie turned around and walked out of the room.

Carlos was filled with complex emotions even after she had closed the door behind her. Wisps of burning smell lingered the air and drifted into his nose.

Feeling restless, he got up and opened the windows to let the smell out. With a cigarette in one hand, he sent for Tristan. "I want a detailed report on Debbie Nian's background. Don't leave out anything," Carlos ordered.

Nian?" Tristan was puzzled.

him before he took out a marriage certificate from the

have a closer look. When he saw the photos and the names written on the side, all of a sudden, the puzzled expression on his face turned into an open mouthed gasp. 'So,

overwhelmed by

the backseat, unable to get a word out, looking dejected. Matan Wen, her driver, who was a veteran in his fifties, smiled at her

put the meal box aside

already eaten dinner before you came,"

recalled how Carlos had reacted after he had tasted her food. She turned her sights towards the meal box, pensively wondering what made him react like that. A few

her tongue, she spat it out into a tissue, almost immediately.

food, as he watched what the girl, who

really cook this?' Debbie couldn't believe how

stared at the burnt meat in the box and finally understood why Carlos had thought that she had gone to his

to poison him. Debbie thought about how excited and nervous she had been because it was the first time she had cooked a meal for someone. She remembered the pain she had felt when drops of sizzling oil sprinkled onto her hands. Now it seemed like it had been a total waste

was past

stressed temples to relax himself.

quiet voice suddenly came from the kitchen.

fright. When he saw who it was, Carlos knitted his eyebrows as if he had just received some bad news.

hour? Why aren't you asleep?" he scolded. Debbie sensed anger in his tone, but she didn't

with a glass of hot milk in her hand. Debbie had anticipated that Carlos would be back soon, so she had come downstairs to heat up a glass of milk for him. Coincidentally, he came back just as soon as

you." She handed him the glass of milk with an innocent look

glanced at her, feeling a dull ache in his head. "Why didn't you switch the lights on?" 'She came downstairs

before you walked in," she answered

enough to poison me." Then he

she suddenly

to the bin and spat the milk out. Debbie reached out and took