Burning Passion: Love Never Die

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!”
Tristan listened on without a word; 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 drama.
He was livid. He couldn’t even find the right words.
“Yes, Carlos,”
Tristan answered respectfully.
Sitting next to Carlos, Portia Listened carefully to the conversation on the phone.
She couldn't hear anything from the other end of the line, but she got every word
that Carlos had said.
“Who is this “her”? Is she Carlos’ wife?’
Behind the scenes, Portia's parents had pulled a lot of strings to 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 possibly could.
When Carlos hung up the phone, she asked in affected confusion and
thoughtfulness, “Carlos, is anything the matter?”
But in an unreadable mood, Carlos simply put away the phone and responded
coldly, without even the courtesy of looking at her, “Nothing happened.” In an
instant, it all began to sound as if he were talking to a stranger rather than his
date.
Meanwhile, in the hospital, Tristan moved another TV set into Debbie's ward, just
as Carlos had ordered. This infuriated Debbie.
“Carlos, what's this supposed to mean? You don't have time for me, do you?
What do you want me to do? Tear this hospital down?"
As soon as the last bottle of IV fluid ran out, Debbie immediately asked the
nurses to pull out the needle in her wrist.
“I can't stand this place any Longer. I want to be out there going about other
things.
Discharge me right now!” she demanded, on the verge of turning hysterical.
It took Tristan a long while to calm her down.
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“ 5 = :
Debbie, the gauze is still on your
head, and the stitches in your
),
forehead haven't been taken out yet.
Why not wait until the cut heals
: ”
before you start throwing tantrums?
he urged. The content is on
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chapter there!
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« ) .
I don’t give a damn about the
stitches. My husband is showing off
out there as a couple with another
woman! Do you want me to sit here
and wait? Get me an invitation to the
show! I have to get in there and
personally witness whatever mischief
: ” .
he is up to!" The content is on
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chapter there!
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Without waiting for an answer,
Debbie got out of bed and started
searching for clothes in the
cupboard. Looking at her, Tristan
began to regret his thoughtless
: ,
promise to Emmett that he'd take
care of Debbie for him. The content is
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chapter there!