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

The voice sent chills down Debra's spine. Instinctively, she took a step back, but before she could retreat further, her wrists were gripped tightly.

Drake stood just inches away from her, his pale eyes glinting with sinister amusement that made her skin crawl.

"Scared of me?"

"Screw you!"

Her strength took Drake by surprise as she tore her hands free. Without hesitation, she swung her arm and slapped him across the face with all the force she could muster. The sharp sound of the slap echoed in the air, releasing the fury, frustration, and hatred that had built up inside her.

This bastard had treated her like prey, dragging her into a sick, twisted game.

"Mr. Lowe!" Peter freaked out.

Drake's face reddened from the impact of Debra's slap, and a trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth. But instead of reacting with anger, he casually wiped the blood away, inspecting it with a cold, detached expression.

"In all these years, you're the first to make me bleed," he muttered.

"Is that so?" Debra mocked, eyes blazing with defiance. "I can make you bleed a second time. Want to try me?"

Drake stood up, staring down at her with unsettling interest. He waved his hand, and two of his men came up to grab her.

"Shame... Such pretty hands," he mused, pulling a knife from his belt. "Imagine I chop off your hands, sending each to Marion and Juan. Do you think they'd lose their minds?"

His smile was hellish, his eyes radiating a bone-chilling coldness There was no humanity in him just the sick enjoyment of someone who took pleasure in playing withdife and death.

Debra shot back, "Why don't you try? Let's see who loses their mind first."

She didn't show even a flicker of fear. If anything, her eyes seemed to taunt him.

Drake's smirk faltered, the

amusement in his eyes fading as he bent down, bringing the blade dangerously close to her hand. He had hoped to see her crumble and beg for mercy, but instead, she remained undaunted.

With a frustrated sigh, he slammed the knife into the deck beside her hand.

"I like your nerve," he muttered, standing up. "Take her inside."

"Yes, sir," replied the two men, dragging Debra away.

Behind Drake, she heaved a sigh of relief. Her back was soaked in cold sweat.

She'd been bluffing, and it had worked.

She had figured out what kind of man Drake was after just two encounters. He thrived on power and control, feeding off fear and submission.

If she had shown the slightest bit of weakness, he would have enjoyed breaking her. But by challenging him, she'd piqued his interest.

"Get in!"Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

They shoved her into a dark, cramped room, the only light coming from a large, mirrored wall that covered one side.

Exhausted, Debra sank to the floor

leaning against the cold, hard wall

Fel

She closed her eyes, her body aching with fatigue. For now all she wanted was sleep.